The history of Polexander in five bookes / done into English by VVilliam Browne, Gent. ...

THE SECOND PART OF POLEXANDER. The fifth Booke.

OUR Heroe, over-joyed at his happy fullfilling of Alcidiana's com∣mand, sayl'd through the vast extention of the Germane sea, and driven by a winde, which Love seemed to fanne with his owne wings, forsook the unhappy climates of the North, to returne to the delicious countries of the South: and, seeing himselfe so much smil'd on by Fortune, he conceived no thing lesse then the infallible hope of quickly finding the inaccessible Island, and in his compla∣cency with himselfe, durst even promise to him the possession of Alcidiana. This contentment, though imaginary, too pleasingly deceiv'd him for not incensing the Demon which had resolved to crosse all his happiness. Hee was therefore troubled from the first daies of his navigation, for as he entred the Sleeve which separates France from England, hee was like to have been lost, by meeting with an adventure extreamly tragicall. A contrary winde stopping him right against Calice, he was forced to aleere up and down a whole night, to avoid his returning back againe: As hee was in this troublesome exercise, a ship, driven by the fury of the winde, strook against his, yet so fortunatly, as hee received no other hurt then the bruising the side of his ship. This shock, awaking the most sleepy, made all think on more then was betided: Polexander would needs know who 'twas that so secretly assayl'd him, and therefore commanded his Pilot to make after. At day-break they descryed the adverse ship, and presently came up and laid her aboard. Our Heroë was the first that leapt into her; but hee was amazed when he saw nought there but an horrible solitude. Never was there presented on the sea, though it be the theater of prodigies and novelties, any thing so strange as the spectacle which astonied him. When hee was come so far as the maine mast, hee saw a most faire Lady, richly clad, ty'd to it by the hands and the feet; before her were four posts, on which were nayled the heads of four men, so fresh, that it might easily be guess'd, they had not been long severed from their bodies. The miserable spe∣ctatresse on these dreadfull objects, pitifully turned her eyes now on one, and then on another of them; and though Polexander presented himselfe before her, shee interrupted not her mournfull exercise. The Prince, noting her admirable beauty, even through her afflictions and teares, was extreamly mov'd to see her in so deplorable an estate; and imagining, because of the neernesse to France, shee might understand him if hee spake French; told her in that tongue, that hee was come to offer her all his utmost ability, either for her consolation, or revenge. The poore distressed Lady made no shew of hearing him, but kept still her eyes fixed on the distruncked heads. This attention and fixednesse doubled Polexander's astonishment, and commanded some of his followers to goe into the Cabines and descend under hatches, to see if there were any that might un∣derstand him. Alcippus and Diceus searched every where, and neither finding any one dead or alive, returned, and assured the King their Master, hee should learne nothing of that adventure, if hee had it not from the mouth of the bound Lady. Hee therefore came againe to her, and employing the best words his desire to make her speake could

furnish him with; besought her to take heart, to think of avenging her on the cruelty of her enemies, to make use for that revenge of the assistance which heaven had sent her, and promise to her selfe from his arme a part of the satisfaction which the resentment of her griefs ought to make him wish for. He added many other considerations to these, and so pressed the miserable woman that shee cast her eyes on him, but in such a manner, that a man might say, shee saw him not: and after shee had often sighed, Why (said she sadly) come you againe to fore-slow the end of my miseries? Are you sent by that pernicious enemy, who hath brought me to the extremity I am in, to the end she may glut her malice in making me die often? Madam, (reply'd Polexander) I know not the monster of whom you speake; and would your griefe give you leave to heare mee, you should know, I come not hither for any other cause then to free you from all your torments. Your ge∣nerosity is great, (reply'd the Lady) but it can availe me nothing, unlesse you could give back againe the lives of those unfortunate wretches whose heads you see here. I wish them their lives, because I have been the cause of their deaths; and desire it, because they would disapprove my most cruell enemy, and justifie my innocence before a Prince too credulous and too easie to be deceiv'd. Polexander would faine have insensibly drawne her on, and engaged her to relate him her fortunes, had hee not been hindred by the approach of a tall ship, which streight denounc'd warre against him: Our Heroë therefore went back into his owne vessell, (but kept still the desolate Lady's grapled with his owne) and made answer to the enemies signes, by others, which stay'd the fury of those which would have assaulted him. Initantly they sent him one of theirs in a shalop, who coming up to them, asked who hee was, and for what end hee had stay'd the English ship. Polexander made reply by Alcippus, hee was a French man, and an enemy to those that would not joyne with him in the avenging a Lady whom some accursed miscreants had expos'd to the mer∣cy of the sea. When the Messenger heard that answer, hee reply'd with a great many in∣juries, and after divers threatnings, hee return'd towards his companions. No sooner was hee got on boord againe, but they fell on Polexander, and quickly repented them of their rashnesse; for our Heroë, giving them at two vollyes an hundred Cannon shot, brought them to implore his mercy. Polexander, promising their lives, commanded the conquered vessell to come neere, and entring her, found there so few souldiers, that hee was neere to put them to the sword, for daring to assayle him; but at last his clemen∣cy getting the upper hand of his resentment, he pardoned all; and seeing one of a better aspect and presence then the rest, called him aboord his owne ship: Hee asked him in particular, why hee would not accept of friendship when hee had offer'd it him, and what interest hee claimed in the barke that floted before them. The other humbly be∣sought, that, before hee reply'd, hee would doe him the honour to make known whether the Lady in the other ship were yet alive: our Heroë assured him shee was when hee left her. Try then (said hee) to get to her againe, that you may the second time preserve her life; for had you not broken the designe for which wee set to sea, shee had been, by this time, at the bottome of the Ocean. Goe then, goe (if you please) and finish what you have begun; and doe not think, in succouring that unfortunate Lady, you doe onely an act of Charity, for you execute likewise another of Justice. You will protect innocence against Calumny; and a wretched, and disarmed goodnesse, against a powerfull, and re∣doubtable villany. Polexander, unwilling to heare any more of that discourse, till hee had freed from danger the persecuted Lady, got her bark againe, which had but turned, and by consequence, was not gone farre off. As soone as hee had her, hee went aboord, and his prisoner with him, who presently ran to the Lady, and making himself knowne, Be of good heart, Madam, (said hee) your innocence is acknowledged; the accusations of your stepmother are found untrue, and the Prince, your husband, is even desperate for not knowing how fortune hath disposed of you. The Lady, by a modest smile, seeming to be pleased with what was spoken, lifted her eyes to heaven, since she could not her hands; and after shee had some time kept them fixedly open, sweetly let fall their lids, and droop'd her head on her incomparable breast. Polexander, thinking shee was swounded, cut the cords from her armes, whilst the Prisoner did the like to those on her legs; and wh•…•…n shee was unbound, laid her all along. Diceus presently came in, and looking on her, told his Master shee was dead. The King could hardly beleeve that ill newes, but being confirmed

by his owne sense, hee could not otherwise then bewaile the losse of that innocent Lady, and wish from heaven a just punishment on her persecutors, which instantly hapned; And thus Polexander's mariners, descrying an English ship bearing up to them, called out, they were like to be set on. Before our Heroë was disengaged from his pious and charitable endeavour, hee saw the English vessell fall fiercely on his. His Prisoner infallibly doubt∣ing the businesse, My Lord, (said hee to Polexander) let not the coming on of these men trouble you, they come for her assistance who is not now capable of it; and if heaven doe not av•…•…rt the sequele of begun mischiefes, I foresee yet more violent ensuing deaths then the former. Scarce had he spoken these words, but hee heard most fearfull and lamentable cries from the English ship; and presently after saw a man of a good aspect, and middle∣aged, who violently drawing an old woman by the arme, forced her to follow him. Come (said hee to her) cruell, and jealous mother; come and see the innocent Eolinda in those miserable torments which thy calumnies have inflicted on her. Excuse not thy self by the excesse of love. Eolinda's afflictions are the product of thy envy and ambition. The love thou feign'dst to beare me, is but a cunning and deceitfull vizard, under which thou hast alwaies hidden hatred to this innocent. Polexander, having some glimpse (of what had passed) amongst so much obscurity, thought that the English man who complained had need to be arm'd against those which the death of Eolinda, and despair were about to throw on him. Hee therefore, with his Prisoner, went to him, but before hee could speak a word to him, the English man perceiving the Prisoner, Altoph, said hee to him in fury, what have they done with Eolinda? My Lord, answer•…•…d the other, and then pointed to Polexander; hee whom you see there had sav'd her from the rage of her executioners; and you should have bin at the end of your afflictions, i•…•… heaven had not otherwise dispos'd o•…•… h•…•…r. How, cry'd hee, is Eolinda then dead? Ah barbarous mother! O inexorable hea∣ven▪ and, in saying so, would have gone into the vessell where the Lady was, for whom h•…•…e lamented. But the old woman, whom he drew alter him, resisting, hee was forced to give a strong pull to make her follow him, and when hee had his foot on the side of the vessell, his heart failing him, hee fell down, his head foremost, between the two ships, and dragg'd his mother a•…•…ter him. Every man did his best to save them, and to that end severed the vessells. Some of the mariners leapt into the sea, though it was not altogether calme, and search•…•…d so well, that one of them coming from under water, lighted on the English mans mother. Those that were gotten into the shalops, seeing him come up, made to him, and tooke him in with his booty. But the taking her out of the sea sav'd not her life, for whether she had hurt herselfe in falling, or that her age had not •…•…rength enough to resist the harmes shee had received: shee dy'd as soone as they had her into that Lady's ship, whom shee had so cruelly afflicted; for her son they saw him no more after his fall, he having the happinesse in his unfortunate end, not longer to survive his deare Eolinda. Polexander griev'd very much for his losse, because hee judged by his actions, (which hee saw) and by the words hee had spoken, that hee lov'd much and was very generous. This consideration giving him a desire to know his adventures, he called his Prisoner, and told him, hee should not returne into England till hee had pay'd him his ransome: But doe not imagine (said hee) that I will have an ordinary one; you must tell me the beginning of those things, of whose lamentable end I have been a spectator. After he had thus de∣clared his minde to the English man, and saw him ready to pay his ransome in the coine he demanded, he commanded his pilot to steere on his first course, and to all the English to follow him. This order being given and presently put in execution, Polexander shut himselfe into his cabin with his prisoner, and intimating his desire to heare him, obliged the other to begin thus: Henry the Seventh, that now reignes in England, is come to the crowne, by waies which some hold very honourable, and others very faulty. However, he was compell'd to make the body of his predecessor a staire to mount up by to his throne; and to ruine many great families, not onely to take from his enemies the power of ma∣king head against him, but likewise to conferre on his adherents such dignities and for∣tunes, as were proportionable to the services he had received. Hee, whom you lately saw buried in the sea, by these revolutions, being rais'd from an ordinary Gentle-man, to the degree of a Prince, and from a man much necessitated, to immense riches, thought of no∣thing more then of giving his curious and voluptuous senses, things fitting not onely to

satiate, but to keep them in a perpetuall appetite. Amongst all his passions, that of love was the most violent: this torrent, which had beforetimes been restrained by two power∣full damms, travell, and necessity; having at last broke through them both, by the assi∣stance of wealth and peace, so spread it selfe beyond his bounds, that it ran through all the English shires, and thence into France. For this Prince enquiring after some beauty, on whom hee might fixe all his affections, was so nice in his choice, that among the infinity of beauties which flourish in our Isle, he thought none worthy of his perseve∣rance. Hee therefore sent those, of whom hee made use in those plots of love, into Scot∣land, Germany, and France, to chuse him some beauty, not onely of capacity to vanquish him, but to continue also a long time victorious. They found not in Scotland, nor Ger∣many, any one from whom they could promise him that miracle. France was the place which in the opinion of these new Judges of beauty, had wherewithall to content the nicety of their Master. After they were come from the court into the Provinces, they met with this rare and to be lamented beauty, whom inconstant fortune, by an abhorred trea∣son, depriv'd of an heart whereof she should have been eternally victorious. But I speak not as I ought, Eolinda hath lost nothing of that glory which her charmes had acquir'd her. You have seen her depart the world with palmes in her hands, triumphing over all calum∣ny, cruelty, and jealousy, and, in a word, over all those enemies who had plotted her ruine. But I am too long in the relation of an adventure which cannot be too soon end∣ed. The English Prince's Negotiators sent him word, they had found the Phoenix he had been searching in so many severall countries. That how nice, nay how loathing soever hee were, hee would approve of their choice, and even find in it such rarities as his ima∣gination could not figure to him. That the beauty they had discover'd was of lustre, live∣ly, and full of majesty; of an age that had nothing of infancy, but the freshnesse, and sweet, and round fulnesse; of an admirable wit, but milde, and obsequious; of an illustrious birth, but by the mediocrity of her fortunes, ignorant of all pride and insolence. At the only recitall of these wonders, our Prince became passionately in love: he burnt, he grew impa∣tient, and would even have abandon'd the place he held neere his Soveraigne, to go testifie himselfe to that visible Angell, with what flames of love shee environed him without the seeing her. But those who had power over his inclination, and principally his mother, re∣strained his first agitations, and strove even to smother this growing passion. He grew an∣gry at their remonstrances, and without neglecting the respect which nature obliged him to preserve; he discreetly made knowne to his mother, that love was a thing more imperi∣ous, and of greater power then maternity. In briefe, he wrote to his Agents they should make all necessary overtures, but not engage themselves till they had sent, and he received her picture. He was obeyed in it, and so conformably to his intention, that he accus'd his Confidents of stupidity, or envy, for describing the faire French Lady far lesse attractive then hee found her. He presently sent them commission to treat with the Parents of that beauty, and the conditions he propos'd being infinitely beyond their hopes, he was recei∣ved with a great many thankes; and the faire and innocent Eolinda being delivered into the hands of the English, was soone after presented to her lover. I will not speak of his overjoyednesse, his transports, and extasies, at the sight of that beauty. I cannot better ex∣presse the greatnesse of it to you, then in telling you it cannot be done. Once the admirable Eolinda was brought to London, and receiv'd, not onely by private per∣sons, but by the King and Queen, with so many tokens of estimation, that she could conceive her happinesse to be but a dreame, or an enchantment: Oh, how happy had she been, had shee dy'd in those fortunate times! Truely, for her quiet sake 'tis to be wished it had hapned then, but it had not been so much for her glory: For the proofes of con∣stancy, and generousnesse she hath since made evident to the world, (if we consider well of things) is the most faire and noble part of her life. Within a little while of her arrivall, her marriage was celebrated, and that with such justs, turnies, maskes, and other gallan∣tries, as the Kings owne was not more magnificent. You may well imagine what the Prince's joy was for that day; 'twas incomparable, and followed by a satisfaction which had lasted till this day, if it had been possible, a man extreamly in love, and exceeding knowing in the worlds corruption, had been capable of possessing, without jealously, a Lady so wonderfully desired. Yet this poore Prince, (at least I will beleeve so) had

been free from that cruell fate in marriage, if even those, who were obliged to divert his suspicions, had not fomented them. He had not been married a yeer, I speak according to mine owne accompt; for according to his 'twas not a day, when his mother who was a Scottish woman, and who with her milk had suck'd in all that could be of hair-braind, savage, and cruell in Scotland, became jealous of the power of her daughter in Law, and enraged with the diminution of her authority. She kept it secret, or made it known but to her most particular Confidents: For to undertake any thing against Eolinda, was to put her self to the hazzard of her owne ruining; and in that this stepmother placed the height of her misfortune. But after she had a long time undergone it, she resolv'd to quit her self of it at what price soever; and falling into all those extremities whereto a wicked woman is incident, intended either to perish her self, or to ruinate the authority of her rivall. In the meane time, this young Princesse was admir'd of all; desired of many, and serv'd, but without her consent, by two young Lords, who flattered themselves with the hope of winning her, either by the profusion of their riches, or by the greatnes of their ser∣vices & constancy. They are now dead, and I may therefore speak of them without being accused of flattery. I will say then, take from their lives the fault of attempting against the honour of a married woman, there could be nought found in them but exceeding rare qualities and most eminent vertues. This unhappy love, which disturbes the most perfect harmony, and makes desolate the most flourishing families, with one selfe-same arrow pierced the hearts of these two young Lords. They sighed one griefe, they burnt in one desire, they attempted one designe, and yet concealed that from one another, and never spoke of the disease which they equally suffer'd. The youngest was an Earle of an high heart, daring spirit, and so free an humour, that hee, thought he committed an offence, not in affecting any faire subject, but to affect it and not make it knowne. The other, who was two yeeres elder then he, was no lesse free and generous; but he affected fame lesse then vertue, and so that he performed worthy actions, it imported him not whether it came to the knowledge of any man or no. Being of this humour, 'twas no hard matter for him to hide his passion, observe silence, and keep that respect whereto Eolinda's vertue, and the quality of her husband ought to oblige him. The one then by a prudent boldnesse, and the other by a generous timorousnesse advanced unperceive∣ably his designe; and let no day passe without trying to make knowne to Eolinda there was in their civilities something more then that which is spoken onely by way of dis∣course, and cometh from franknesse of humour. She no sooner doubted of their inten∣tion, but she dextrously avoided their converse, and behav'd her selfe more coldly to∣wards them, then the agreeablenesse of the Court permits. But when she saw these re∣medies were not strong enough to cure so great an ill; she feign'd she was sick her selfe, and was neere two moneths from visiting the Queen, that her long absence might heale those whom her presence had wounded. But 'tis bootlesse to pretend by resisting to have the upper hand of generous spirits. Those two young Lords perceiving that Eolinda's sicknesse was a disease that might prove mortall to their affection, had recourse alike to preservatives and speciall remedies. They prepar'd themselves to suffer for a long time, to dissemble much, and to grow obstinate against all difficulties. They even gave thanks to love, that in Eolinda they met with a vertue able for a long time to exercise their great courage. On the other side, Eolinda beleeving they thought no more on her, left her chamber, return'd to the Queen (who could not almost live without her) and came againe with a lustre which she had not before her feigned malady. If the ordinary gal∣lants did redouble their sighes at the sight of this new Sun, imagine what the two true Adorers did. Their quality gave them accesse every where where the King was, and their gentlenesse had acquired them so much familiarity amongst the Ladies, that the Queen her selfe missed them as often as they were not in her matches and associations. These priviledges were the cause why Eolinda could not avoid the occasions of seeing them. She must in spight of her selfe endure it, or make it knowne, (and by conse∣quence make a noise) and she found no lesse perill in the one, then in the other. For on the one side, she considered, that should she endure this research, without disclosing it to the Prince, and he should come to the knowledge of it by some other who might dis∣cover it, he would have just cause to beleeve she was very well contented with it. On the

other side, she represented to her selfe, that in making shew of her discontent, she should be the subject of all the Court talke, give a faire pretext to all detraction to invent what it lift for her destruction; and what more troubled her, she should engage the Prince her husband in those broyles, as could have none other then a dismall successe. On these considerations, she took a way, worthy a soule, high and faire as her owne. Shee re∣solv'd to endure all the extravagances, all the talke and prattle, and all plaints of those two lovers, as long as they could be interpreted to her advantage, and thought on but as the ordinary freedome of entertainment or gallantry of young men. But if ever they hapned to make known their love to her, or to search for occasions to see her in private, she resolv'd with her selfe to discover it to her husband. After this resolution for six moneths, was she forced to suffer the follies of those two lovers. She heard them every day sighing by her, she saw them blush, waxe pale, and muse in beholding her, and many times she was compell'd to shift place, that she might not heare the excessive praises which they gave her beauty. But heaven having denoted the fatall point, where the mis-fortunes of so many illustrious personages should have their beginning; the Earle broke his long observed silence, and, by mischance, seeing Eolinda as she was going in to the Queen, stay'd for her at the going forth of that chamber where she was to leave her squire and women. He intercepted her in the passage, and humbly besought her to accept of his attending to the Queens privy chamber. She trembled from head to foot, seeing her selfe in a straight which shee had so often, and so carefully avoided: and standing steadfast, was so some small time without walking and answering. The young Lover in∣terpreting this disquiet to his owne advantage, thought he was no indifferent man with the Princesse; and to oblige her by his discretion not to be frighted another time. I see well, Madam, (said he) I have committed an incivility, in thinking to tender you a small proofe of my most humble servitude. I will doe penance for it; and, to make it an∣swerable to what the greatnesse of my fault requires from me, I condemne my selfe to passe the rest of this day, without the being enlightned by those faire eies which onely give me sight and life. In saying so, he made her a great reverence, and so left the inter∣dicted Eolinda. The mother in law to the Princesse, at the same instant coming out of the Queens chamber, entred into that where our Lover took leave of his Mistresse: The dan∣gerous Scottish woman saw the last complement, perceiv'd her daughters confusednesse, noted she blusht at her seeing her; and when she came neere, she found her so troubled, shamefac'd, and confounded, that had she bin lesse wicked then she was, she would not have forborne to beleeve there were very particular intelligences between that Princesse and the young Earle. Presently she resolv'd to draw a great advantage out of that meeting; and in her malice causing in her some thoughts of the Divinity, which could not be o∣ther wise then as of a man as wicked as her self, she gave thanks to it for what she had seen, with a prayer to be assisted in what she went about to enterprise for the ruine of her daugh∣ter in law. The unfortunate Princesse being a little come to her selfe, would have made her some excuses, but the abominable hagge spoke thus: Doe not trouble your selfe to seeke for excuses, that's for me to doe, for coming so unseasonably to trouble you: and with that went her wayes directly to her son, to give him, under pretext of affection, the mortall blow which hath so tragically made him expire before you. He was not at home, and though the old woman sent on all sides to find him, and to effect his coming her as speedily as hee could: yet for that time her devilishnesse had no successe, and got not the Prince to swallow her poyson, till after Eolinda had strengthned him with an excellent Antidote. The Princesse seeing her selfe falne into that misfortune she so long feared, did nothing all the while she was with the Queen, but consult with her self in what manner shee might make that ill potion pleasing which she was to give to the Prince her husband. Presently shee turn'd her thoughts on heaven, implor'd assistance from thence, and its testimony in so tender a businesse; and petitioned to be from thence furnished with words which should be proper for the confirming the Prince in that opi∣nion he had continually held of her chastity. Shee had no sooner made this prayer, but her agitations and feares left her, her mind retook its former serenity, and as her face was sensible of the troubles of her soul, so did it also resent the recovery of her quiet. Shee was with the Queen all the evening, and was so pleasing in her conversation, that

her husband who came thither with the King, could not sufficiently admire her sweet humour. The King and the Queen being retir'd, the Prince and Eolinda did so too, and being come home, severed themselves for different businesses. The husband entred his withdrawing chamber to dispatch his most urgent affaires, and the wife into her Oratory to implore againe assistance from above; and petition for that powerfull and necessary art whereby truth may be beleeved by her greatest enemies. Whilst she was in this exercise, her husband came into the Oratory: I know not (said he) what my mother would have with mee, shee hath sent five or six times, man after man, and intreates mee to goe to her before I goe to bed, about something that concernes me more then my life. What doe you think it should be? Eolinda, who was risen as soone as shee heard her husband, My Lord, (said shee) I will tell you if you please; but since 'tis a thing which should not be knowne to any but your selfe, be pleased I may shut the doore, that I may the more freely speake to you. The Prince did it himselfe, and holding her between his armes, with as much joy as a covetous man fixeth his eyes on his treasure: Tell mee (said hee) this strange businesse, and falsifie it not, for feare you anger me: what bitternesse soever there be in it, I shall there finde sweetnesse, since I have it from thy faire lips. Eolinda considering the kind speeches of her hus∣band, as so many witnesses of that miraculous assistance shee was to receive from the goodnesse shee had implor'd: took a crosse which was on her deske, I desire (said shee to him) to lose that part of salvation which was wrought on that tree whereof this is the figure, if in the matter you command mee to relate, I either adde or diminish any thing for my justification. The Prince much astonished to see his wife at the end of so blithe a humour to fall into an act so serious: Is it in good earnest, or in jest (said hee) that you have put on such an austere countenance? Those things I make use of (repli'd Eolinda) are too sacred and venerable to be imploy'd for so profane an use. My Lord. I speak in earnest, and I humbly beseech you to beleeve, the businesse is the most serious and important that you ever had yet in handling. Without doubt (repli'd the Prince, smi∣ling) my honor is in question; my mother hath discover'd that Eolinda hath her gallants. Well, well, henceforward I shall take better heed to what concernes me. Ah! my Lord, (cry'd Eolinda) if it be true that I am dear to you, and that I hold of your heart by stronger bonds, then those of I know not what you call beauty; I beseech you not to jest with that which regards your honour, and to grant me at last the request I have so often made to you. What request, repli'd the Prince? 'Tis, my Lord, that you would take me from Court, and draw me by a most pleasing absence from thence out of a tor∣ment which every day renewes it selfe. The Prince laughing now with a better heart then he had done, I see then (said hee) that I have divin'd it; and thereupon embracing his wife againe, Tell me (said hee) who are your gallants and how many be there of them? I will waite on them, and bring them to thee. Eolinda, that could not un∣derstand this scoffing, got from her husband, and casting her selfe at his feet, Doe not make mee beleeve, my Lord, that we are no more the same we have been hitherto. Doe mee justice, examine my life and my offence, and throw me not headlong by your indifferency from the top of all felicities, where your onely goodnesse had rays'd mee. The Prince desirous to give his wife the content she desired, grew to be serious in spight of himselfe, and granted her all the audience she requested. Eolinda forgot not the least particularity of her meeting with her lover, and her mother in law; and having related all, would have falne on long justifications. But the Prince her husband stopping her, You are a foole (said he) and if respect could permit it, I would say that my mother is not very wise. You both vainly trouble your selves, the one for having too much experi∣ence, and the other for having too little. But I will take order this trouble go no further, and get not to mee. I confesse, my Lord, (repli'd Eolinda, sighing) I have but little ex∣perience; yet have I enough to know that of the like sparkles which have not been quenched in their births, there have proceeded such flames, that the least distrustfull have been the first involved in them. Never trouble your selfe about it (repli'd the Prince) I will so well smother these, that they shall neither fear nor hurt you. Do you so too, and suffer not a poor lover whom you burn so.—He could not make an end of his new gybe, for Eolinda put her hand on his mouth, and wept with so much violence, as if her hus∣band

had made her undergoe some cruell effects of a true jealousie. Hee so left her to comfort her self at leisure, and went to his mother, who after the long discourse to him of a cunning and scandalous old woman, ended it by this pernicious conclusion: That that man hath neither honour nor courage, who suffers his wife to take those freedomes which may be ill interpreted. Then shee filled his head with examples of fore-passed times, represented to him how much the present were perverted, how dangerous the Courtiers were, and what a hard thing it was to preserve a great deale of vertue, with a great deale of beauty. This discreet son gave his mother leave to speak as long as shee would; but when she was weary, and yet not satiated with depraving the innocent Eo∣linda, in these few words hee answered her: I must needs take a liberty to me, which at first will not seem respectfull enough to you. Yet could you retire into your selfe, and make your selfe mistris of that choler which hath as it were plucked you thence, you would acknowledge my freedome to be very just. Be pleased not to interrupt me and permit me to tell you, I never expected from a person, so filled with honour and vertue as you, a discourse so declining, and so much an enemy to them both. 'Tis the annotation, or signe of true goodnesse, to interpret all others actions to the best sense; and not to beleeve them ill, till a long time after there is no permission to doubt them so. But now, in lieu of calling to mind who you are, and of observing those lawes im∣posed on you by your owne vertue, you would become a slanderer, and insteed of judging my wife by your selfe, your judgement of her is no otherwise then if it had come from one of the pratling gossips of the Court. If through too much love of me you have so grosly erred, I beseech you to lessen some part of your affection, to the end you may not hazzard the making the like slips; and to beleeve, that Eolinda, having you for her domesticall example, will preserve alwaies an infinity of vertue, to accom∣pany an extremity of beauty. The old woman growing mad at her sons wise remon∣strances wonderfully upbrayded him, reviled him, and threatned him with her maledi∣ction, protesting shee would never take any more into her consideration either him∣selfe, or his affaires. The night will better advise you, (repli'd the discreet Prince) I en∣treat you to be led by it, and when your choler is over, to reflect on your self and me, that you may know who is most faulty. In the meane time I bid you goodnight, and so presently went away. The old woman, all enraged, being got to her bed, and unable to take any rest, by reason of her rage and malice, which equally deny'd it her, spent the best part of the night in devising new plots for Eolinda's destruction. When she laid the ground of her abominable devices, she rejoyced with her selfe at her good inventi∣on, and turning her thoughts on the small regard her sonne had to her advertisements▪ His father did the like, (said she) the first time my enemies would have made him jea∣lous. But a little while after he made me know well enough that he had swallowed the poyson which in all appearance he had utterly rejected. All manner of men, how ge∣nerous and wise soever they be, nay, though they have never so good an opinion of their wives, are apt to be caught in this trap, if they be brought to it by a dextrous and cun∣ning contriver. My sonne, who now laughes at my advice, and would for a need turne Knight errant, to maintain the honour of Ladies, shall not passe this night without think∣ing more then once on the young Earle. He will represent him to his owne thoughts, yet more faire and gallant then he is. He will say to himselfe, that man leanes on a weak prop, who trusts to the vertue of a woman; and I dare lose my life, if the first journey hee makes, he wake not in the night, to ponder on what may be done at Lon∣don; and going further on, My wife (will he say) may now doe somewhat else then be∣waile my absence. This accursed woman, having spent all the night in these execrable meditations, arose with the Sun, and resolv'd the same day to begin, and wholly betake her selfe to her 〈◊〉〈◊〉 designe. Scarce was shee drest, when the Prince, her sonne, sent to know 〈◊〉〈◊〉 she did, and to aske leave to visit her. She had resolv'd before in the night to come in to him againe, because, without that good correspondency, she saw no meanes to ruinate Eolinda. She therefore told her sonnes Gentleman, she should be glad to see him. As soon as she heard it, he came to her, and accosting her with all the excuses and submissions which a good sonne should make use of for the satisfaction of those who brought him into the world, kissed her oftentimes, and entreated her to for∣get

•…•…hat had passed, to pardon his quicknesse, and to live lovingly with his wife. She •…•…eigned she had no grudge at all at her, but that she loved the Princesse as if shee were her owne daughter. To perfect this reconciliation, shee went and dined with her son, and so cunningly forced her humour, that the innocent Eolinda overjoyed at the cheri∣shings of the old woman, thought her selfe at the height of her happinesse. She related to her with the sincerity of a pure soule, all the affliction she had suffered by her to Lo∣vers, besought her to be a meanes for their period by one way or other, and to take that businesse into more consideration then the Prince her son had done. The old woman seeing so good a beginning to her enterprise, doubted not of the successe; she therefore promised her daughter in law all her assistance, assured her of her affection, and then changing her minde and discourse, according as her malice prompted her, forgot what she had told her sonne the evening before, and read to her daughter lessons of far higher licentiousnesse, and Court gossiping. The innocent Lady blushed at the indiscretion of her stepmother, and to let her know, that she was not so simple as not to discerne what the befittingnesse of her condition permitted, from what it permitted not: I con∣fesse (said shee to her) it is impossible to live in the Court as in a cloyster; wee must be seen and talked withall whether we will or no. But 'tis not fitting, that by the affecta∣tion of some gesture or ornament which is not usuall, wee should draw on us the eyes of young men: For my owne part, I have ever been of opinion, that none can with∣out blame, (though it be not done of purpose) contribute any thing to the extravagan∣cy of so many fooles wherewithall the Court is composed. The old woman perceiving Eolinda's minde was not to be infected by the contagion of her maximes, sought for some spirits lesse strong to corrupt them. She had prefer'd to her Daughter in law a Gentleman-usher, and a Gentlewoman of her chamber, and thought those might be very fit instruments to set her engines on work which she could not agitate her selfe, without discovering her designe. She therefore spoke to those two whom she had got∣ten from the most savage of the highland Scots, that is, from among beasts lesse ratio∣nall then wilde bores or beares; and commanded them to have recourse to her as secret∣ly as they could, to heare of such things whereby they might in short time attaine to great fortunes. Pantaira, so was the Chamber-maide called, fail'd not the next day to be at the old womans uprising, and to make knowne her hopes solely depended on her, declaimed against the French pride, and the imperious severity of Eolinda. The old woman, delighted with these depravings, told Pantaira, that if she had been heark∣ned to, her son had never fetched a wife from the enemies of her nation. But (said she) why doe not you speak to me of your Mistris subtility, as well as of her pride. She doth not think her selfe meanly faire, nor is she of those who neglect their beauty to avoid the importunity of Lovers. Ah! Madam, (repli'd Pantaira) I have something to re∣late to you of good importance on that subject. What? hastily asked the old woman. 'Tis (answered Pantaira) a secret not yet vented. The Earle of Lettidur is desperately in love with my Lady: I cannot tell you whether she know it, but I may well say, hee doth his utmost to winne me for him, and solicites me by the best of my friends: hee promiseth me what I would aske, so he might have my service for him to my Lady, and deliver her his letters. Thou wouldst say, the Earle of Trinobant, repli'd the old wo∣man. Pardon me, Madam, (said Pantaira) 'tis the Earle of Lettidur, who, within this yeare and halfe, is returned from Italy. The old woman entertaining with all her heart this new occasion for Eolinda's ruine; And is that Earle (said she to the perfidious Pan∣taira) so enamoured on thy Mistris? He is so farre gone (repli'd Pantaira) as he would gladly winne her favour with all the meanes his father hath left him. He is continually prosecuting his intention; and when my Lady is where hee cannot see her, hee present∣ly comes to my friend; and never comes thither but to discourse of his love, and to ob∣lige her by his gifts to perswade me to serve him. That woman is become rich with his presents within two or three moneths; and but for the feare of disobeying you, I had had a good share in his liberalities. Thou hast done well (said the old woman) in not engaging thy selfe in that commerce without my knowledge. But now when 'tis be∣hoovefull for my sonnes satisfaction, that wee know all the Earle of Lettidur's intenti∣on, deale boldly with him, promise thy service, let him see what credit thou hast with

thy mistris; in a word, take all he will give thee, and make him hope he shall possesse all he can desire. After she had so well instructed the chamber maid, she dismissed her; and the very evening of the same day, finding a convenient time to speak with Eolinda's Usher, Lycambus, (said shee) I begin to complaine with thee, for the small benefit accrewes to thee from thy service: had I thought my daughter in law would have done no more for her servants, I had been more wary of taking thee from thy former place, to make thee loose thy time in serving so ill a mistris; but there is an occasion presents it self, wherein, without being beholding to her, thou mayst raise thy self an honest fortune. I will assist thee in what I can, and promise thee withall, the same from my son. Be then thine own friend, hazard thy self for thy advancement, and make use of the means I will shew thee. The Earle of Trinobant is extreamly in love with thy mistris, and hath an intent to imploy thee in his suit; my sonne knowes it from a good hand, and inas∣much as he is confident of thy fidelity, and that it much imports him to know all the Earles pretentions: he desires thou wouldst prevent him, and handsomly go offer him thy service. Fit thy selfe therefore to make good use of this occasion, obey punctu∣ally thy masters commands, and worke those furtherances which may be necessary for thee to screw thy self into the Earles trust, and confidence. Lycambus who had no more braines then a horse, ne're thought of asking time to give an answer to her propositions The first thing he took hold on was that of gain; he grew dazled with the lustre of his approaching fortune, and scarce being able to contain himself in his excesse of joy, was like to expresse the height of it by throwing his armes about the necke of the old wo∣man. She hindered that brutishnesse, and told Lycambus he should yet have more then he expected, provided, he were vigilant, ready, faithfull, and above all extreamly secret. Lycambus laugh'd at these conditions, as at things which were easy to be perform'd, and so returned to his mistris, with a firm resolution to bet ray her assoon as possibly he could. In the mean time the innocent Lady beleeving she had fully justified her selfe and shut up for ever those winds, which are wont to trouble the calmes of wedlocke, sail'd securely on an unfaithfull sea. And inlarging her self from her usuall severity, at the intreaty of her husband, and counsell of her false mother in law, tooke delight in tricking her self, and to make it appeare that the French beauties are not parallel'd but by themselves. She was the glory of the English court; and acquiring still new charmes by the quietnesse of her mind, and the extream love of the Prince her husband, made as many conquests, as there were sensible hearts. But amongst so many different passions, there were none like those of the two Earles, their desires increased every moment, and their impatiency made them have recourse to the most extraordinary remedies, to get them some little lessening of pain in so great a malady. Pantaira and Lycambus fol∣lowing the order prescrib'd, offered themselves to these sick men, and so highly ex∣toll'd the goodnesse of their drugs, that they sold them at their owne price. Pantai∣ra, receiving at first a quantity of jewells from the Earle of Lettidur, took a letter hee had written to Eolinda, and promis'd to deliver it to her. I dare sweare she durst not so much as name him to her, much lesse deliver his letter. Yet she made that Lover beleeve, it was receiv'd and read with a signe of affection, and by the answers shee made him her self by word of mouth, oblig'd him to write above a dozen; all which she shewed to the pernicious old woman, and by her counsell, hid them in the bottome of a cabinet wherein Eolinda's jewells lay. On the other side, the Earle of Trinobant beleeving he had found a treasure in acquiring Lycambus friendship, wholly reli'd on him; and indeed he was so well serv'd for his money, that Eolinda went no where but he had notice of it. 'Twas to small purpose her seeking out the Churches least frequent∣ed for feare of meeting him, for being betray'd by her Usher, the Earle was alwaies there before her, She could not make a visit, but she there met the same displeasure, and if by chance she scap'd his importunities, she was sure to be persecuted by those of the Earle of Lettidur. Who, poore abused Lover, imagining (according to Pantaira's assurance) that she affected him, oftentimes would let slip some words, and intreat Eo∣linda not to treate him worse in publick, then she did in private. She that was far from understanding his speech, could not but be offended at it, and told the Earle one day, he wrong'd such personages as were powerfull enough to make him repent of it. I have

done, (repli'd the Earle) and since you are so scrupulous, I will not take the boldnesse to entertaine you any more, but by my usuall mediatour. Eolinda was as far from know∣ing what he meant by these words, as by the former; yet she fear'd lest there were a great deale of venome hidden under them: and as soon as she was alone with her hus∣band, renew'd her complaints to him, and entreated he would goe passe away some moneths in a faire house he had some twenty miles from London on the side of the Ri∣ver Thames; but hee gave no more heed to her request now, then he had done before. Yet, a while after, by the diabolicall subtlety of his mother, perceiving some commerce between Pantaira and the Earle of Littidur, and the like between Lycambus and the Earle of Trinobant, he began a little to suspect, not the vertue of his wife, but the per∣fidy of those two mercenary soules. He therefore set a watch on their deportments, and since these watches had order not to hide themselves from him, 'twas an easie matter for him to take them in the manner, as he did Pantaira, coming out from her copesmate, who gave her a letter which she had newly receiv'd from the Earle of Littidur. He read it, and finding therein some passages, not only of one amourous, but of an amourous man much belov'd againe; he was like to have cast himself headlong in the Thames, on whose banckes he walked and read the letter: But he with-held, and would not act so notable a folly, after he had made shew of so much discretion. He kept the letter, and commanded Pantaira to say nothing of what had betyded her on paine of her life. When he was come home, he shut himselfe up in his closet, and after he had a while suffered himselfe to be swayed by the impetuosity of his anger, he recollected himselfe, and con∣sulting as hee had been dis-interessed in a businesse of so great weight: I see not yet (said hee) but some light presumptions; for to beleeve a thing so beyond appearance, 'twere not too much to have the testimony both of mine eyes and eares. I must not make known my resentment, but to very good purpose, nor discover this secret to my mother, but in case of extremity: For hating Eolinda as she doth, she will never leave till she have forc'd me to work her confusion. Let me reserve to my selfe the knowledge of this matter, and not give that advantage to my enemies, to publish to them my self, my weaknesse, and dishonour. In this good resolution he abode some few daies, and had power enough over his thoughts, to disclose nothing of so intricate and perple∣xed a businesse. But Fortune, or rather the Justice of heaven, which would deprive this poore Prince of those felicities, for which he had been unthankfull, let him fall into the pit he had digg'd himselfe. The King, who had been inform'd by some of his spyes, of the Earle of Littidurs practices, told the Prince of it, and advis'd him not to be so farre a good husband, as not to take into his consideration the preserving his royall house from dishonour. Imagine whether this counsell touched him to the quick or no. He went straight out of the Palace, and walk'd towards the Earles lodging, expresly to work him a mischiefe. 'Twas at twilight, and by reason of the ill weather, there was no body in the streets. When he came within twenty paces of the gate, he saw come out of it Pantaira's brother, who betook him to his heales and ranne away as fast he could. The Prince now doubted no more of the losse of his honour. I must needs praise either the wisdome or love he shewed in so cruell a combination. He went to his wife, and inventing some cause of discontent against Pantaira and Lycambus pray'd her very ear∣nestly to dismisse them. Eolinda, who was the best mistris of the world, took in hand the cause of her servants, and besought the Prince to tell her wherein they had offended him, promised to reprove them soundly, & did what she could to obtain their pardon. If they be so fitting for you (repli'd the Prince) I will not discontent you so much as to put them from you, but you shall do me a great kindnes, if you could be without them. My L. (repli'd innocently Eolinda) if I had brought those two servants from France, I would presently have consented to their sending back again, for fear lest in retaining them, I might be suspected of some ill correspondency: but since they were prefer'd to me by the Dutchesse your mother, to have an eie over all my actions, I fear their putting away; and that apprehension throwes me at your feet, to beseech you thrice-humbly not to put from me such people as are so needfull for my quiet. The Prince left her without make∣ing any answer; and that grace which he had too long neglected, abandoning him in that fatall instant, he lost with her all the virtues which bare her company. This unfor∣tunate

man suffering himself to be carried away by his fury, and to be governed by two passions alike blinded, made as many falls as he made paces, and one error drawing on a∣nother, he came not to himself till it was to no purpose, but altogether unprofitable for him to do so. In this case he went to his wicked mother, who throwing brimstone into a fire already too much kindled, put him forward to those extremities which shall for ever be the grief and opprobry of England. This fourth Fury was not contented to have made him suspect the vertue of his wife; but she would withall justify her complices, and said to that poor Prince, how Lycambus and Pantaira were very excusable in their crimes, since they had not offended but out of fear of disobeying a personage who in the very instant of their disobedience, would not have failed to ruine them. This reason had been of no validity, if the Prince's wisdom had been as at other times; but in the blindnesse he was, it pass'd for a convincing argument. He return'd home thence, and made a mighty hurly-burly; and not desiring to see Eolinda, bur only to afflict her, went to lye in the towne, and stay'd three daies ere he came home againe. During that time, he was almost alwaies with his mother, and secretly sent for Lycambus and Pantaira, interrogating them, and learnt more then he desired. The businesse was, how so many accusations could be verified; and then his wifes cabinet of jewells was the most certaine proof of them. He sent to take it thence, broak open the lock, and found the Earle of Littidurs letters in it. After so many evidences, beleeving there was no more doubt to be made of his wifes dishonesty, he was so imprudent, that he never so much as ask'd those wretches how long it was since Eolinda had been engaged in affection to those two Earles; what favours they had obtained from her, which of them was best loved, where was their usuall meeting place, or at what times they met together, and many other the like particularities, which all had serv'd for Eolinda's justification. But the houre of his miseries was come: For the punishment of his sins he must be imprudent, blind, and enraged. He resolv'd with his mother to bring his wife to a castle of his by this seas side, on one side Dover; and to that end he went the next day to take leave of the King, who liked not the suddennesse of his departing. Yet hee would needs follow his owne brain, and all the supplications Eolinda could make, were not able to obtain any thing from that furious man. When he was come to his house, he shut up his innocent Lady in a chamber, whose windowes on all sides were grated with iron barres; and keeping her there two or three daies, he came at last with his mother to see her. He threw the Earle of Litridurs letters to her, and, Regard them well (said he to her) thou infamous woman. Your sport is found out, therefore aske me no more the cause of my anger. Eolinda opened the letters, read some of them, and not divining from whence they should come, because they were not sign'd: My Lord, (said she to her husband, with her wonted moderation) have these papers any thing common, or in relation with or to my disgrace? From whence come they? To whom are they directed? Why do you shew them me? See (said the old Dutchesse to her son) how cunning she is! O, how well she is vers'd in her trade! Madam, (re∣pli'd Eolinda discreetly) I know you are my accuser, doe me the favour not to be my Judge too. The furious Prince causing his wife to be silent, by a cruelty beyond exam∣ple, Thou hast no other accuser then thy crime, (said he) nor shalt thou have any other Judges then my mother and my selfe. Answer us therefore without any falsification, and tell us what privancies you have afforded your Gallants. There is no other way to save thy selfe but that confession. My Lord, (repli'd Eolinda modestly) is it possible you should beleeve that which you aske me? But art thou thy selfe so impudent (answered the Prince) to make me that question, seeing so many witnesses which accuse thee of that crime whereof thou feignest to be ignorant? If these be the witnesses which ac∣cuse me (repli'd Eolinda) they are false witnesses, for we never had acquaintance with one another. How, wretched woman, (said the Prince) can'st thou deny that the Earle of Littidur writ thee these love-letters? At the words Eolinda gave a great shriek, and melting into teares: But rather, my Lord, can you possibly beleeve it? If you have but only suspected it, Eolinda is then no longer innocent; she hath done worse then that whereof you accuse her; she hath prostituted her self; she hath lost her honour, and deserves not to live one quarter of an houre longer. This was all she said then, and since

that time, for all their threatnings, and all the tortures presented to her, she never spoke but once when the Prince came to her chamber. Two or three daies after this cruell proceeding, that unfortunate Prince was inform'd that the Earle of Trinobant was abroad in the country with a great many of his friends, and the Earle of Littidur, disguis'd like a Fisherman, had pass'd in a barque divers times under the castle. This news startled him, and made him looke as well after his owne preservation, as well as the ruine of his pretended adulterers. After hee had meditated on diverse evasions and was to avoide that mischief, hee found none better then to force Eolinda to write to them; and under a pretext of an amourous appointment, to make them fall into the trap where he desired to catch them. To give more colour to this assi∣gnation, he sent back his mother to London, and putting his wife into the custody of an old gentleman, who had alwaies very faithfully serv'd him, prepar'd himself to re∣turn to Court. He took horse at full noon with all his houshold, but at the first lodging he feign'd himself sick, and put one of his Confidents into his bed to amuse the world. In the mean time he got on one of those admirable gueldings which will run you some hundred or six score miles in ten or twelve houres, and so in two and an half return'd to his house. At day-break he came into Eolinda's chamber, where he found her at pray∣ers at her beds feet. As soon as she saw him she arose, came towards him with such a respect and meeknesse as would have mov'd the heart of the most barbarous man alive; and falling at his feet, My Lord (said she to him) I hope much since I and you are a∣lone in this chamber. Thou must (said he rudely) obey me, if thou wilt hope with reason. I never had any other intent (amourously repli'd Eolinda). Hear me then (said her husband) and bethink thy selfe well of the answer thou wilt make me. The Earle of Littidur and the other of Trinobant are not far hence, and without doubt, are come upon some advertisement thou hast sent them. If thou wilt save thy life thou must write to either of them according to my minde; but doe not look to be much in∣treated, for I condemn thee either to write to them or dy. My Lord, (repli'd Eolinda) I do not fear death, since it is the certain repose of innocent creatures: but had I com∣mitted that treason, which my enemies have constrain'd you to alledge, I should be so faulty, that I would think my self worthy all the torments prepared for the damned. Ah impudent woman (cri'd the Prince) what yet more testimonies of thy incontinency? I endure these injuries (repli'd Eolinda sweetly) because heaven hath given you all autho∣rity over me; but since I am not thereby commanded to obey you, when your com∣mands are offences, be pleased that for this time I may be disobedient. Thou must then dy, said the unfortunate Prince. I am ready prepar'd, (repli'd Eolinda) strike bodly, my Lord, (said she) modestly opening her breast, I will receive the blow without fear, and blesse the hand that gave it me. I will have thine own to be the executioner (said he:) That is not yet permitted me (replied Eolinda:) besides, it would give you the greater satisfaction if you your self avenge your honour, since you beleeve I have wrong'd it. These words penetrated the hardnesse of the unhappy mans soule. In that very moment he remembred what he had been before-times. The standish and ponyard which he held, fell out of his hands, and pitifully looking on her, Would to heaven (said he) thou wert innocent! I am so, (she repli'd) yet I deceive my self: No, my Lord, I am not, since you have been capable of mistrusting me. The unfortunate Prince, not deserving the grace of coming to himself, departed the chamber, overcome, but not perswaded. He lock'd her up, and keeping about him the keyes of the door, went to walk in his Parke, to deliberate on what he should lastly resolve. As long as 'twas day he did nothing but go and come, and was above thirty times to see what Eolinda did, through a little hole in the door, and found her still on her knees, holding her eies and hands towards hea∣ven, and understood plainly once that she beg'd thence a pardon for her persecuters, and that it would have commiseration on her husbands error. Those words almost wrought that miracle which she would have requested from heaven; and the unfortunate Prince began to be himself, when his wicked mother arrived, according as they had agreed at parting. He told her what he had done, and alledg'd the new doubts Eolinda's words had wrought in him. The abominable hagge sharply reprehended him, to suffer him∣selfe to be so easily seduced; and to confirme him in his former resolution, said, That it

behoov'd him to send Pantaira and Lycambus to the two Earles, that by the successe of their voyage, he might draw the last manifestation of his wifes incontinence. Those two wretched agents were hereupon sent, and so well instructed by the old woman, that for the further misery of many innocents, their journey took alike effect. Ly∣cambus met with the Earle of Trinobant, and propounding to him the facility of de∣livering his mistris, and by consequence, of enjoying her; he wonne him to hazzard himself in that enterprise, with all the rashnesse of a man very young and very valiant. The brutish high-lander conducted him even to the place where his master lay in ambush to surprise him: where he was enwrap'd overloaden with cassockes and cloakes, gag'd, and so led away to the Castle. The Earle of Littidur, with the same easinesse was ta∣ken in his fisher-boat, and as unworthily handled as his rivall. They were presently shut up in two chambers, and severally examined by the Prince himselfe. They con∣fess'd they were to blame, and had no other excuse for their offence, but the extream beauty of Eolinda, and the tyranny of love. But the Princesse (said they both) had other meanes enough to free her self of us, without blemishing her vertue by so base a treason. She needed but have made known the aversion she hath alwaies had to us; (though some traytors have told us the contrary) and we would have shewn to her by a faire death, that our lives were lesse dear to us then her favour. You shall neither of you save your selves by these crafty excuses (said the Prince). Confesse your crime, if you will have pardon. Our offence (repli'd they, each one in particular) is already confes∣sed. We do infinitly love Eolinda, and would willingly give our lives to have some small part in her good opinion. It hath not cost you so much (answered the Prince). There∣fore prepare your selves to wash away with your bloods the staine you have thrown on the house of your King. We dare die (said those unfortunate illustrious Gentlemen) but we protest to you for the discharge of our consciences, that if the intention be not a crime worthy of death, we shall die innocents. The most condemnable Prince, having lost all humanity with his reason, and being truly possest with the Devill of blood and fury, which serv'd for a soule to his mother, hastily resolv'd the death of those young Lords; and brutishly had them ponyarded by foure Irish men. After this execution done, he would have gone to the innocent Eolinda's chamber, either to have cut her throat, or done her some other bloody indignity; but as he was in a place of the staires, whence you might see Eolinda's chamber doore, he heard somebody call him by his name, and forbad him to goe further. He cast up his eyes and saw in the doore of that chamber a young English Gentleman of his houshold, who with his sword and pistoll in hand, threatned him to throw by all respect if he came any neerer. The Prince ask'd him the cause of his extravagancy. Aske me rather (repli'd the generous Englishman) the cause of my just resentment, and I will tell thee, blind and enraged Prince, that I am here to protect, as farre as my life can, the innocent Eolinda, against the persecutions of thy wicked mother. The Prince threatned to have him punished according to his desert, and commanded two of his murderers to seize on him. A great Irish villain stept forth with a partisan in his hand, but when he came within a few paces of Eolinda's generous defender, two pistoll bullets stopt his journey, and roul'd him to the bottome of the staires. His fellow, beleeving that the brave Englishman had no more fiery wea∣pons, furiously came up towards him, with an intent to strike him through with his halberd, but he had not time to perform that brave thrust, for he received a like chastise∣ment with his companion for the like offence committed. They perceiv'd then the va∣liant English man had forgotten nothing of what was necessary for his long defence. Indeed, he had yet three pistolls charged, and was so advantageously placed, by reason of the thicknesse of the wall that he could not be set on but before. The Prince would have obliged the two other Irish men to revenge the death of their companions, but they would doe nothing unlesse they had peeces: They therefore brought them two long fowling peeces, and the villaines discharg'd them both on Eolinda's courageous martyr. O heaven (quoth hee, feeling himselfe shot in so many places) receive my soul and my life, which I have freely expos'd for the defence of vertue! and with those words fell downe dead; yet, for all that remained vanquisher: For the unhappy Prince, having had leisure to bethink him of the execrable murder he would have committed, or else

with-held by the last words of the heroicall English man, return'd from whence hee came, and told his cruell mother he would never kill one whom he had so much affe∣cted. The damnable hagge, after she had some time grumbled, told him, he worthi∣ly deserv'd his dishonour, since he took pleasure in preserving the cause of it. The Prince, offended with this reply, entred the great hall of his Palace, and the first that came before him was the execrable Lycambus, who very likely came to demand the reward for his treason: And art thou there then, thou infamous and perfidious slave, by whose assistance I have lost mine honour and comfort? The miserable Scot cast himself at his feet, and the Prince, taking him by his long haire, dragg'd him about a great while, and then (with a brōad sword that he had) stroke his head from his shoulders. The tray∣tor, to save his life, would have accused the old Dutchesse, but before he could speak a word, there was neither speech nor life in him. The Prince then called for Pantaira, but she was so close hidden, that it was impossible to meet with her. His mother see∣ing him in such a fury, ask'd him if he could not distinguish between the guilty and the innocent: You should discharge your choler (said she) on that lascivious French wo∣man, and not on those wretches who durst not disobey her. Never doubt it (said he) Eolinda shall have her punishment with the rest; but it shall be so, that no one whoso∣ever of mine shall besmeare their hands in the blood of that miserable woman. Present∣ly, his wit furnishing him with a new kind of punishment, he commanded that barque to be made ready, wherein you saw, the innocent Eolinda die, and cutting off the two Earles heads, and that of the charitable English man, made them to be nayl'd (with the other of Lycambus) in that manner as you saw them. Then went he into Eolinda's chamber, and though she fell into a swound at his entrance, yet he caus'd her to be car∣ried into the vessell, and set her in the same posture you found her. That done, he commanded all his followers out of the barque, the sayles being all hoys'd, and tow'd her into the open sea by two shalops, and then abandon'd her to the mercy of the winds. See a great many tragicall events, yet am I not at the end of all; for scarce was the Prince got up againe into his chamber, when Pantaira (it may be repenting she had been the cause of so many murders) came to him, and beseeching him to heare her, confess'd, that neither Lycambus nor her self had done any thing but by the command of his mother. Protested boldly, that Eolinda never knew ought of their practices, nor done any thing misbeseeming the vertue and honour of a most chast Lady. That shee had never seen, but in publick, any of the two Earles; and that the letters which were found in her cabinet, had been conveigh'd thither without her knowledge, and that she had never seen them. She had told more but that the old Dutchesse flew on her, and in the fury she was, would have strangled her, if she had not been taken out of her hands. The Prince in the meane while, filled with horrour at what he had heard, re∣flecting presently into himself, What hast thou done, (cri'd he) unnaturall mother? I now doubt no more, Eolinda is innocent! and with those words fell into a swound, and had not I borne a part of his fall, he had infallibly broken his head against the floore of his chamber. We laid him on his bed, and whilst his faithfull servants bewail'd his misfortunes, and strove to recover him from his fainting his wicked mother caus'd Pan∣taira to be strangled, and sent to make ready a ship of warre which lay in the rode, with a secret order to her most Confidents to make after Eolinda, and to throw her in∣to the sea. All this could not be done presently. In the meane time the Prince reco∣ver'd his spirits, and spying me at the head of his bed: Altoph (said he) if my faults have not taken from thee that amity thou hast alwaies borne me; goe quickly, and strive to save Eolinda. If thou bring'st me her not alive, be secure thy Prince is dead. I presently went forth, not knowing where to finde a ship to goe after Eolinda; but as I came out of the Castle, those whom the old Dutchesse had sent to make an end of the innocent Lady, told me the ship was ready, and if I would be of the party, I should follow them. Though I was ignorant of their designe, yet I took hold of the occasi∣on, and imbarqued my self with them, and understood the command they had, a little before our mariners had descri'd your ships. I can tell you nothing of what past betwixt the mother and the son after my departure; but by what hath hapned in your presence from the one and the other it is very easie for you to imagine how matters pass'd be∣twixt

them. Thus the Englishman ended his mournefull relation, accompanied with many a sad teare. Polexander let fall some to the memory of Eolinda, and having bla∣med the imprudency, and bewayled the misfortune of the Prince, sent back all the English, and commanded his Pilot to put off from the coast of England. If the notes which are left me of the life of this great King, have beene carefully written, there hap∣ned not to him any adventure worthy to be published, from the coast of France, to those of Spaine, which are the neerest to Africa. But it is remembred how in that place he made use of that incomparable valour, and greatnesse of soule, which had ever made him triumph over all dangers, all fortunes, and even of death it selfe. He was beset with above thirty sayle of ships, which falling in upon him, without any observance of the ceremonies used at Sea, assayled him so hotly, that he had scarce time to put his men in case to defend themselves. He fayled not to carry in a combat so unequall the same ma∣jesty of spirit he was wont to shew in his other combates. But seeing no way of safety, he would at least dye in one of the enemies vessels, and make himselfe a glorious tombe of their bodies whom he had slaine. Through sword and fire therefore he made up to the greatest vessell, and grapling with her, leapt in, to make a terrible but chery of his infa∣mous affailers. He had no sooner put his foot into the ship, but he was knowne by him that commanded her. Hold, cryed the Captaine to all, (he was clad after the Turkish fashion) lay downe your Armes, tis the King of the Canaries. These words went from one end of the ship to the other, and flying from ship to ship, all the fleet knew in an instant, they had beene like to have ruined the famous Polexander King of the Cana∣ries. In the meane while, he who had first divulged this verity, intimating to our Hero a great deale of joy: My prayers are heard, said he, I have somewhat satisfied the obli∣gations I owe your Majesty. You once gave me my life, and I dare say, this day I have preserved yours. For, I most certainly know, that at last you would rather have chosen an honourable death, then an ignominious servitude. I am the same Hamet, whose life you preserved in the presence of Bajazet, Iphidamantus and Zelmatida. Know more Sir, you are here amongst your servants, since all of us know no other Soveraigne then the great Bajazet. Hamet (replyed Polexander) this meeting is so strange, that I can scarce beleeve what I see and understand. But tell me, I prethee, where is Bajazet, and why lyes his fleet on this coaste? Sir, (said Hamet) my Generall is sick in his Island, and sick with griefe that he cannot recover the treasure he hath lost, which if fortune and our diligence render not the sooner to him, this Age will lose the rarest Jewell it hath next your Majesty; and chiefly to prevent that mischance came we to Sea. My compa∣nions and my selfe have altered our condition, and suspending for Bajazets sake our for∣mer trade, we are no more Pirates, but to get into our hands the fairest women. We flye up and downe to every place where fame tels us the most beautifull are, and not dreading the hazard we run in so difficult and fantasticall an enterprise, we place out highest felicity in the preservation of our Generals life. Since you parted from our Island, we have sent him twenty of the fairest women of the world, but she whom he longs for is not among that number. Two dayes since we tooke one in Portugall, who is certainely the rarest and most wounding beauty can be looked upon. She will not tell us what she is, and that makes us believe it may be the same which Bajazet desires. Hamet could say no more, because ten or twelve of his companions came and did obei∣sance to our Heroe. He entertained them with a courtesie which charmed the most barbarous, and by a brave speech, amplifying the fortune they had made him run, told them, twas not without cause, their meeting was more feared on the Ocean, then that of rocks and shelves. The Pirates answered this commendation as well as they could; and the aged Achaim among the rest told him, it was farre from any intention of theirs to turne their forces against him, for (said he) we have an expresse order from our Ge∣nerall, to obey you as himselfe, and to follow your Majesty in all occasions, wherein you please to do us so much honour as to make use of us and our armes. Tis not yet fif∣teene dayes, since at the sacred name of Polexander, we released one of the fairest ships we ever tooke. She came from that inaccessible Island, whereof all the world talkes, and no body can see. The Pilot which guided her, a very venerable old man, assured us, he came from the Island of the Sun to see you at the Canaries, and impart very impor∣tant

newes to you. At these words the bloud flashed in Polexanders face, and he felt a beating of his heart which was not usuall with him; and being not able to suppresse this amorous emotion, entreated Achaim to tell him, what course he had seene that vessell steere. We left her on the coast of Morocco, (replyed Achaim) and the Pilot told us they went then to the King of Senega. Polexander had gone away presently, if his ship had beene in case. But she had received so many Cannon shot, that the highest sayle or top-gallant saile, the maine mast, and that which bore the sprits saile were shattered; the maine sheet, and the greatest part of the yards were torne and broken; the very body of the ship was shot through in many places; & it required time to rectifie all this, which Polexander was forced to give, in spight of his impatiency. To divert him, Ha∣met propounded to his companions the shewing him their faire prisoner, and his advice being approved, Polexander went out of that ship into the Rover Selims, and there into a Cabin where the faire Captive was kept. Hee understood by Hamets dis∣course whence she was, and therefore did all his complements in her owne tongue, and so pleased her, that to shew what contentment she tooke in his company, she put in practise all the best of her language. Polexander replied with his accustomed coole temper, and told her, he thought himselfe very happy to be in place where he might do her service. And I, replied the Portugall Lady, shall be more happy then you, if after the recovery of my liberty by your meanes, I might carry yours with me into Portu∣gall. You are not charitable (said Polexander) in rendring evill for good; but I see you sin out of custome, for it being so common a thing with you, and so easie to capti∣vate and make slaves, you thinke to do it still, even during your owne captivity. I con∣fesse (replied she) I do very much affect to make captives, but desire from them nothing but good deeds; and that you may have a desire to be one, I would have you know, that the great Emanuel King of Portugall thinks it an honour to be in my fetters. Her free∣nesse of humour and talke lasted till night, so as if Polexander had not bent all his thoughts on Alcidiana's Island, he would have found in his meeting with that Lady wherewithall to have entertained himselfe with a great deale of delight. When their first discourse was ended, and that those two excellent wits had begun a more regulated conversation, Polexander besought the Portugesse to tell him who she was, and by what mischance she was fallen into the hands of the Pirates. She replied presently, I am the daughter of the Count of Ebora, my name is Ximena, and by that denomination have acquired so much fame and glory, that there is nothing neither in Portugall nor in Spaine it selfe, which can be compared to me. From my infancy I have beene highly affected by Emanuel. He hath been inflamed for me as much as he could possible; and burnes yet with the same fire, so that had I not preferred his greatnesse before mine owne, he had lost (to have enjoyed me) far more then the Crowne of Portugall. The very day he was King, he resolved to divide with me that power to which my generous∣nesse had raised him; but I loved him too well to give consent to my owne advantage, I opposed the reason of Sate to that of love. I told him, his fortune was but begun, and to place himselfe at that point where he deserved to be, he should marry the daughter and heire of Ferdinand and Isabell. This alliance which might have brought him five or six Crownes, was at first word odious to him. He called me his Crownes and fortune, and told me he was powerfull enough, so he might have the happinesse to reigne with me. This generous answer had overcome me, if I had not yet beene more gene∣rous. I commanded him to obey me, and at last inforced him to marry the Princesse of Castile. She hath beene his wife two yeares, but in that time Emanuel is growne twen∣ty yeares elder. He eternally complaines of that absolute power whereby I have thrown him into that irkesome slavery; and comforts not himselfe, but in the assurance he hath that the Queen his wife cannot long live. Tis above a month since I left my house and came to lie at Court, to give some intermission to his afflictions. I went to Lisbon, and was at the great feast which was solemnized at the departure of the navall Army, which should have reconquered all the Canaries. Polexander was about to have inter∣rupted her at that word, to know what was become of that fleet; but the power he had on himselfe, made him appeare to her, as one to whom an intelligence which so neere∣ly touched him, had nothing at all concerned him. Ximena therefore continuing her

discourse. After the fleet (said she) was under saile, I retired to a very faire Castle, which the King had given me, some two leagues from Lisbone. I have seene him there often, and two dayes since having sent me word, he would come to me by Sea, I got me into a little Galley to go meet him. The night overtooke me on the water, and the calmenesse of the ayre being as great as that of the Sea, I intended not to retire till day breake. But when I was come within a mile of my house, two Barks comming from behinde a rock set on my Galley, and being overcome, notwithstanding my servants resistance, I was taken and brought where now I am. See in short all that you desired to know. The name of the faire Ximena was knowne to me, said Polexander, but I may well say, I knew not what I did know before I had the happinesse to see the faire Ximena her selfe. The King of Portugall is too happy to have so winning and generous a Mistris, and were it not for feare to offend the worthy subject of his passion, I would accuse that Prince of two much reason and obedience. Of a truth Ximena is a faire piece of Nature, for the honour of whose enjoying there is neither glory nor Empire which is to be taken into consideration. This speech displeased not Ximena; and Pole∣xander, (after he had some time continued it) thus went on: I entreat the faire Xime∣na, not to take in ill part my curiosity; I would humbly entreat her to let me know what is become of that fleet which is gone for the Canaries. The newes of them is not good, replied the Lady; for the famous Polexander fights there though he be absent. His Genius is, where he cannot be himselfe, and conquers for him in those places where he cannot be in person. Besides, tis related that a Prince of the new world, called Zel∣matida, is (unhappily for us) in the Island of Lancerotta, and defends it with so much valour, that our Souldiers have no lesse esteem of him then of Polexander. To this they adde, that within these fifteene dayes, there is got into the Isle of Teneriffe, a Prince called Iphidamantus; that he hath already given two great on-sets to his advantage, and knock'd our troups back againe to their shipping. You have well satisfied my curio∣sity, (said the Prince) and tis but justice that Ximena should be so too. After this dis∣course, he took leave of her, and went to the Pirats. He told them who Ximena was, and entreated them to send her back to the King of Portugall. You shall not (said he) lose her ransome, for I will give you a hundred thousand cro•…•…s assoone as we arrive at the Canaries. His last words were very harmonious to the Pirates eares, and they all said to Polexander, he might dispose of Ximena as he pleased, and that they forgave him her ransome. No, no, (replied Polexander) you shall not if you please refuse me. But I tell you, that summe is but the earnest of a greater payment. Yet, before I discover to you what I conceale, I pray send back Ximena; Alcippus shall conduct her into Portu∣gall, if you will lend me but the least of your vessels. Hamet offered his; and whilst they were providing to goe, our Hero withdrew in private with Alcippus, instructed him what he should say to the King of Portugall, and appointed him to goe thence to Fez and Morocco, and so to Senega, if at the two first townes he heard no newes of Al∣cidiana's ship. Enquire (said he) every where for it, neglect nothing; and never think of returning to the Canaries, if thou bring me not some good newes, and I will stay there for thee. Ximena understanding by those that guarded her what Polexander had done for her liberty, gave him extraordinary thanks, and after she had bid him farewel: I was not yet weary (said she) of being a prisoner in the hand of so magnanimous an E∣nemy. Our Hero as bravely answered her; and assoone as he saw her under sayle, he sent to entreat Bajazets chiefe Officers to come aboard him. They did so, and when they were come together: My companions (said hee) there is a faire occasion offers it selfe to enrich you. The King of Portugall hath sent a fleet to invade my king∣dome. If you will set on them, you are sure of their defeate. Let's flye then to so cer∣taine a victory, and by the great number of prisoners and vessels which cannot escape you, make your selves more formidable then you are to all the force of Spaine. The Pi∣rates all at once arose, and laying their hands on the guard of their Cymeters, See, said they to Polexander, wherewithall to confirme the good opinion you have of our cou∣rage. Let's on then my Lord to these Portugals, who are certainely lost if they dare to attend us. The Councell being thus ended, they thought on the meanes of rightly put∣ting it in execution. Our Heroes great ship was all new fitted in lesse then foure and

twenty howres, and all the rest put in good equipage for fight. A favourable winde arising the second day, Polexander and the Rovers set saile, and in a marvellous good or∣der steered towards the Canaries. They were six dayes ere they could see it; the se∣venth, they descried the prodigious mountaine of Teneriffe, and the eighth, they began to distinguish the Isles. Polexander held a counsell of Warre in the fight of his deare Countrey; and finding one same heart, and one same will in all the Pirates, bore up right to his enemies. Did the copiousnesse of my subject permit me to expatiate my selfe in the description of combates by Sea and Land, of sieges, of assaults, of taking of places and vessels, of duels, of considerable deaths, and other glorious adventures which accompany the act of warre: I should have in this warre of the Canaries, sufficient mat∣ter to obliterate the illustrious and proud events wherewithall the renowned Cities of Troy, Thebes, Carthage, Hierusalem, or any else have furnished their Poets. But I must smother all those brave acts; and besides, having consecrated my pen to the honour of Alcidiana, I veyle without sorrow a part of Polexanders, his brothers, and Zelmatida's. That which comforts me in the wrong I doe them, is, they praise my ingratitude, and had rather I should speake of their misfortunes, then of their achievements. I will there∣fore imitate their example in this warre, and relate it with as much nimblenesse as they executed it. The Portugals being advertised of the forces were comming on them, for∣sooke the great Canary, since they could not keepe it without their owne losse. They dismantled in the other Islands the sorts which were not yet defensible, or too hard to be kept, and leaving a good Garrison in the rest, shipped themselves; to encounter Po∣lexander, or at least wise not to have at one time their Enemies both before and be∣hinde them. Our Hero trifled not the time, but put himselfe in battalia within Can∣non shot, and compelled them to forgoe their usuall slownesse. The fight was bloudy on both sides, but incomparably more on the part of the Portugals, then Polexanders. I must needs expresse, to the praise of the Portugals, that to know how many they were, there needed but to count the dead and the prisoners. There was not a vessell saved, for all that were aboard them had made a vow to overcome, or to dye. Ipidamantus and Zelmatida at the noise of this battaile, left their postes, got a shipboard, and comming fitly in, performed so many heroicall actions, that the least of their glory was to come off victorious. The Pirates fought as people who were certaine to carry away all the booty; and indeed, though the recompence were great, yet was it below their Service. The fight being ended, Polexander highly praised them, and sent away that very day to Bajazet to give him notice of his victory, and the hardinesse of his followers. Zelmati∣da and Iphidamantus, who during the battell, had often admired the incomparable va∣lour of our Heroe, (who had likewise his eyes for witnesses of theirs) came up to him in the Port of Teneriffe. Their joyes, their civilities and praises were great and recipro∣call. Polexander oftentimes asked Zalmatida's pardon, for so long time abusing his goodnesse; called him the Defender of the Canaries, and the revenger of the growing slavery of his world. Zelmatida in lieu of an answer, onely sighed, and gave way for Iphidamantus complements. Polexander forgat not to render that testimony he ought to his courage; and said aloud, that to be master of his Art, he was bound to be taught by his younger brother. Iphidamantus modesty hindered the continuation of that speech; and that being done, they landed on the Isle of Teneriffe, and because it was that, wherein the Portugals had most fortified themselves, he resolved to make there his beginning of driving them out of the Islands. The Canarians were not idle, whilst their Masters laboured so happily for them. Some of them cut the throats of their Gar∣risons; others went and assaulted the Forts which kept them in awe, and those of the best sort came to the three Princes Army. Some Portugals defended themselves in their holds, even to the extremity, in hope there would arrive a new fleet. Others more judi∣cious, knowing they could not be relieved, yeilded themselves to the discretion of the Conquerour; so that in a month all the Isles were free, and no other Portugals were seen there, but such as they sold in the markets, and carried hither and thither, to end their lives in that servitude which their ambition had deserved. Polexander yet was not satisfied with the driving so unjust and obstinate Enemies from his dominions; but would needs fight with them within their own wals, and by some great and remarkable

losses imprint in their minds for a long time the feare of his Name and Armes. After he had therefore a while refreshed his Troopes after their long travels, with Zelmatida and Iphidamantus, he joyned his own fleet with the Pirates, and having paid them even to prodigality for their service done him, and principally the ransome he promised for Ximena's liberty, he embarked himselfe with a favourable winde, and staid not till he came before Lisbon with an Army not only victorious, but invincible by his presence, and that of the other two Heroes. All the coasts of Portugall felt his arrivall. Many townes were pillaged, many burnt, and an infinite number of young and old, of poore and rich, were sacrificed to the just resentment of the Canarians. Lisbon it selfe was got to the point of her ruine, and the fire and sword were about to make of it a horrible place of buriall; when our Heroe considering this neere desolation, staid his anger, and was moved with the horrid object which had followed the sack of so stately a City. Let us pardon the guilty (said he to himselfe) for the innocents sake. Let those live who have provoked us, for the love of them who never offended us. Let us not arme against our selves the cryes and teares of a great number of orphanes, of widowes, and virgins. The astonishment which his arrivall had cast as farre as into the heart of Spaine, was so great, that Ferdinand and Isabell shut up in Valledolid, were a great while without knowing how to oppose this tempest. They imagined that all the Moores were againe comming out of Africa into Spaine, and to reconquer it in farre lesse time then they had lost it. But Polexanders departure calmed all their troubles, and dissipated their ap∣prehensions; and if he returned without being King of both the Spaines, twas because his justice, and noblenesse would never consent to it. He returned home by Africa, drove the Portugals out of all the places they were possest of, and razing the fortifica∣tions, would have both the Christians and Moores to know that he came into the world onely for the extirpation of tyranny. The King of Morocco hearing of our great Con∣querors being so neere his territories, sent him a solemne Embassy. It was received after a new way of State, for twas at Sea, and in the midst of a fleet, consisting of above three hundred saile. The Embassadors having had their Audience, and done the accustomed complements, returned loaden with presents. Polexander seeing them upon parting, asked Iphidamantus if he would send no newes of himselfe to his old servant. I doe not think (replied Iphidamantus) but that after the turne I shewed her they would be very welcome to her. Truly said Polexander, you cause me to remember a promise you made me long since. You must now acquit your self with putting it no longer off. And in so saying, and taking Zelmatida by the one hand, and his brother by the other, he shut himselfe with them into his Cabin. Zelmatida understanding whither he was led, and to what purpose, was wonderfully joyed at it; and pressed Iphidamantus as much as the King of the Canaries, to tell him how he fell into the hands of the King of Morocco, and by what meanes he got thence. The brave Prince not able to deny two so dear to him, and so considerable; told them, he had no other will then what they might command; but (withall said) he had already so often troubled them with the recitall of his fortunes, that he could not resolve to go on. Yet (added he) since I see you wil abso∣lutely have it, I am ready to obey you. Know then, that after the mis-haps which hapned to me at the siege of Lepanto, and after the tragicall end of the too constant Hysteria, I left all the pretentions I had in the court of the Grand Seignior, and made a vow never more to present my self to my most dear father and worthy Lord Achomat. In speaking which words, Iphidamantus fighed often, and Polexander noting it; You sigh (said he) if I be not deceived, and at the remembrance of your losses, what a change is here? What is become of that insensibility which equall triumph'd over all things? Hath Ba∣jazet turned that heart of marble into a heart of flesh? You may justly jest, replied Iphi∣damantus, sighing againe, but let's give over this talke, if you please, and give me leave to relate what you desire to know. Assoone as I was at Sea, I called to minde that which the generous Basha Achomat had told me not a yeere before, touching my birth, my captivity, and the misfortunes of our house. This remembrance, bred in me a desire of returning into my native Countrey, to the end I might learne, whether or no I were the sole man left alive of our race. With this intent I came to Argier, and habit and language having gotten me a great many friends in a small time; I understood, the

Canaries had not changed their master; and how the great Polexander of whom I heard so much spoken in Constantinople, was not only king of them, but what more astonied and extraordinarily pleased me, was, that Aladin Bashaw Vice-roy of Argiers assured me, that that Prince was the son of Periander and Axiomira, and by consequence, the unfortunate Iphidamantus had the honour to be his younger brother. Polexander having smil'd at the quaint phrase of his brother, We will, said he, make an∣swer another time to these fine words; for the present, Zelmatida and my selfe have no other designe then to heare you. Proceed then, if you love us, and plainly satisfie our cu∣riosity. Iphidamantus, resuming his discourse, thus continued it:

THE ADVENTURES OF IPHIDAMANTUS.

AS soon as the Vice-roy of Argiers had intimated to me the prosperity of Peri∣anders worthy successor, I got to sea again, and with the most diligence I could sail∣ed along the coastes of Barbary: I was like to have been lost in the straights of Gibral∣tar, and but for the extraordinary skill of my pilot, my ship had been split in peeces against the point of an Island in the midst of the straight. At last I got into the open sea, but 'twas to be beaten with new tempests. The second day that I was got into the Ocean, my mariners, who had never sailed but on the Mediterianean sea, were intertained by a winde they knew not, and against which by consequence they could not defend themselves. The billowes went so high, that for three daies we were every foot carried from heaven to hell, and from hell to heaven. At last the winde threw us on the coastes of Morocco. 'Twas there, that the storm redoubling, and that the elements having made a particular combination to punish my offences, turned topsy turvy (if I may say so) the first order of nature, reconciled contrarities which should be everlasting; found nourishment for flames in the water; composed two rights of what should be one day, and made both the land and the sea equally dismall unto us. Ma∣ny leagues on this side Morocco there is seen a rock, on which is built a Castle which they call Guargetsem: the tempest bore me right against it. Twice did my ship strike a∣gainst this fearfull rock, and by the impetuosity of the shock, not only opened it in the mid'st, but was thrust off farre into the sea, that of all those aboard, there was not one who saw not his certain death before him. Every one therefore got hold of what he could, to hinder their sinking with the vessell, but the storme made all their forecast bootlesse, for the justling of the waves, which confounded themselves one within a∣nother, swallowed up all my mariners and souldiers, with that which they had gotten to save themselves. I only (who without doubt had not suffered enough for my many offen∣ces) was frustrated of that quiet which my companions found in the armes of death. Having therefore (without faining) no intent to preserve my miserable life, I was thrown by a wave into a Cavern which time and the surges had digged under the rock of Guargetsem. When the sea is very high, or that there is a violent storme, as there was then, the water enters into the bottom of that Cave, and throwes in what it brings with it; but when the waves retire, or that it is calme, the place is dry; and hath some resem∣blance with those grottes which Art hath invented for the imbellishing of Gardens. For an hour or two I was but ill at ease within that cave, for I was upto the neck in wa∣ter, and knew not where to place my selfe better. At last the sea went out, and then I found I was out of danger. The Sun which inclined towards the West, and was then ve∣ry near to the Tropick of Cancer, suddainly striking through the thicknesse of those cloudes which had been so fatall unto us, enlightened the most obscure corners of my retreat. I set me at the mouth of it, to injoy the suns heat and dry my clothing. A∣bout an houre after I had been there, I perceived some fishermen: who questionlesse

were got out in their boates to gather the remaines of our shipwrack. I will not tell you that surely chance was the Author of the good fortune befell me at that instant, but will let you know, how those fishermen being desirous to get a chest which floted on the waves, and which I knew to be the same wherein my servants put my best habili∣ments) drove right to my Cavern. As they were about to take it in, I cried to them for helpe; and my voice on a suddan comming out of that cave, so affrighted them that they left the chest, and betooke them to their oares. I besought them to take me in, and told them, the chest which they were about being mine, I would freely give it them, if they would bee so charitable as to carry me to the next shore, and tell me on what part of Africk I was shipwracked. My habit and language make∣ing me passe for a Musulman, the fishers believed, that Mahomet had sent them thither to exercise the hospitality which he so strictly recommended to them. They therefore tooke me into one of their boates, set my chest by me, not permitting me to open it for their reward; and betaking them to their oares, brought me to a little-port, which is as the entry of a Suburb by which they ascended to the fortresse of Guargetsem: There the fishers dwelt, and they received me into their Cottages built of clay and straw, with a great deale of humanity; and carried my chest into a place under ground, whereof they gave me the key. I refused it, and to obliege them to the continuation of their affection, tooke out of my chest some chaines of gold, and rings, which I distri∣buted amongst them: They grew ravished at the richnesse of my presents, and judged by them that I was a person of great quality. I thought it not amisse to keepe them in that opinion; and to that end, I went presently to put off my spoyled sea weeds, and take on others of cloth of gold, enriched with buttens of rubies. When I had fitly clad my selfe with the richest cloathes I had, I came in to my fishermen, and astonished them farre more by this second sight, then he had done at first. They lifted up their hands; they whispered together, came and peered me in the face, handled my cloathes, my belt and Cymiter, and asked me often whether I were an Angell, or a man. When all their wonder was over, they told me in what place I was, and assured me, their King would already have sent to entertaine me according to my desert, had he been advertised of my arrivall. I asked them where he was; and after they had by their answer informed me he was come a few dayes besore into the fortresse of Guargetsem, I thought there was no better course for me, then to make my selfe knowne to that Prince. I there∣fore sent one of those fishers to the Castle, and expresly charged him to relate truly how I was shipwracked. He went up, and presently came back againe with Moores. The first that saw me, blinded with the lustre of my Jewels, or surprised with seeing me, stopped on the suddaine, and turning to his companions; Ennoramita (said he to them) Ennoramita. The rest gaz'd on me, and all with one voice cried out, that I was Ennora∣mita. Straight they cast themselves at my feet, kissed my hands, called me their Prin∣cesse, and entreated me to go to their King. They drew me out of my cottage, and causing all the mountaine to ring againe with the name of Ennoramita, carried me whe∣ther I would or no up to the fortresse. Some of them being run before, to advertise Hely of my arrivall, so ravished him with the newes of it, that forcing his weake legs to uphold him, maugre their feeblenesse, he came to meet me, welcomed me with a great many pleasant huggings, repeated a hundred times over the name of Ennoramita, would even adore me, and gave me the title of a Goddesse, and sometimes that of an Angel. He entreated me straight to tell him how I escaped out of the hands of the cruell Nephizus, brought me into a chamber, the best furnished I ever saw next to those of Zelmatida, and Bajazet; and entreating me to take my bath, withdrew, with a great deale of respect. Presently came in diverse white Eunuchs, and seven or eight black. The last fetched all that was necessary for my chamber; and the women having brought me into a great withdrawing roome, shut the doore on us all. If I were wonder-strooke at what I had seene and heard, I was farre more when I saw my picture (done like a wo∣man) hanging under a cloth of Estate, made of cloth of gold. I asked those who would have undressed me whether I would or no; for whom that picture was made. They an∣swered me all at once, twas for the Princesse Iphidamanta. At that word I was like to have falne downe, and certainely believed I was got into the house of some one of those

Enchanters, which every day worke so many prodigies in the townes of Africa. I knew not which way to be cleered of my doubts. In the meane time I was in an extreame perplexity. But perceiving that Hely and his servants had no other intent then to serve me, I said to my selfe, I should be very unwise to dis-obliege them. I went therefore into the bath, but so dextrously, that I discovered not the difference betwixt Iphida∣mantus and Ennoramita. Assoone as I was dried, persumed and clad, Hely reentred the chamber where I was, and shewing me my picture: See (said he) that which hath pre∣served my life in your absence. At that speech I put on a very serious countenance, and told him I had beene in so great an astonishment, by meanes of that which had betided me since I was taken out of the Sea, that I could scarce reserve to my judgement suffi∣cient to know whether I were yet my selfe or no. But let me tell you. I am a man. He∣ly smiled, and shooke his head, hearing me say so; and taking me by the hand, faire En∣noramita Iphidamanta, replied he, do not think to hide your selfe from those eyes which love hath made so clear-sighted. You have now nothing to feare. The traytor Nephizus is not in this countrey, and Abdelmelec hath acknowledged his offences. You are absolute Mistris of me and my Estates. Command solely, and you shall be punctu∣ally obeyed. I grew almost mad to see my selfe treated like a maid, and in that choler, I spoake to the King any thing that came first to minde. At last recollecting my wits: I cannot imagine (said I to Hely) how you came to know my name to be so neere to Iphidamantus. But you may know that that Iphidamantus was born a Prince, and bred up in the Port of the Grand Seignior, by the name of Solyman. I see (said I) you do not beleeve me; but since your credulity is so wilfull, I will make you both an eye and hand witnesse that I am no woman. Presently I unbuttoned my robe, and would have shew∣ed him my brest, that he might know I wore not garments unbefitting my Sex: but he clapped his hands on his eyes, and protested, he had rather dye then engage me in any action which should displease me. No, no, (said I) I will do nothing unseemely. Come, see, and disbeguile your self. That old foole, holding his hands still on his eyes, told me, he was too certaine of who I was to desire new testimonies. Should my eyes (said he) now tell me the contrary, I would say they lied, and hold them for Impostors. Be therefore still (if you please) what you have beene. Be Iphidamanta, be Ennoramita, be a Shepheardesse, be a Princesse; you shall still be that visible Divinity which Hely will adore whilst he lives; and the onely beauty he will enjoy in that Paradise which his great Prophet prepares for him. Nay, Iphidamanta shall be the chiefe part of my beatitude. She shall be the most delicious dish I will taste of in the eternall feastings, and her divine allurements will make me look with contempt on the miraculous Pom∣citrons which our Prophets Angels will give to his believers for the accomplishment of all their pleasures. And to speake truth, how rare soever the beauties of those celestiall fruits are; what is there in them that can be compared to the charmes of Iphidamanta? This discourse, composed partly of that poor Princes errors, and partly from those of the Alcoran, gave me good cause of laughter. Yet I could not hold, but at last grew angry; and had I given way to my first thought, I had made Hely repent him of his ex∣travagancy. But when I called to minde, that I should avenge my selfe on a poore man whom age had deprived of judgement: I said to my selfe, I should be more senselesse then he, if I went about to wrong him. For three months together, I had as much of this as was possible. I patiently endured the Kings highest impertinencies. I coldly re∣ceived his Idolatries; I gave care even with pleasure to his supplications, his idle talke, and his wayanentings. In a word, I almost became the same which that foole tooke me for; and tooke in hand as well the rest, though much against my will, the needle and the spindle. At last, Hely brought me to Morocco, and caused me to be received with an incomparable magnificence. But after I had beene there a while, and was growne of so ridiculous a life; I resolved to beguile, or to bribe the Guard that was night and day set over me; and to take my time, when some strange ship should be ready to set saile. There chanced an excellent combination to perfect my designe. Postes came from Thu∣•…•…is, from Argiers, from Fez, and many other places; who all solicited Hely to bring in∣to the field those troupes which he had promised for the invading of Spaine; and assured him, that within few dayes, the Grand Seigniors fleet would be at the generall Rendez∣vous.

These newes a little suspended my old Dotard's follies; and made him turne his thoughts on more important businesse. Hee sent notice to Abdelmelec hee should be in a readinesse. Who answered him, he staied onely for the ships which the Vice-roy of Argiers had promised him for his troopes. That his Army was brave and very resolute, and that ere long he would send him farre better assurances of that verity, then words and letters. I understood from Hely how the Grand Seignior (offended with the Portugals beginning by their East-Indian Navigations to breake the trade of Spice, which from all times before had beene through his Dominions) was resolved to invade Spaine, and by a continuall warre, take from them the meanes of sayling into the East. Twas for that intent this great preparation was made. You have seene the event in the battaile which the Turks lost; it will be therefore superfluous to relate the particulars. Assoone as Hely had made good his promise, and drawne out of all places all that were fit to carry Armes; he brought me back againe to Guargetsem, that he might be farre enough from the noise of warre, and by a sound repose satisfie his ridi∣culous passion. After we had beene there a month, Abdelmelec sent to the King his Fa∣ther a great Gallion which he had taken from the Portugals, and with that vessell above three hundred Christians of severall Nations. When I saw that vessell, I said to my selfe, the Prince of Morocco had rather sent it to me, then to the King his father, and in that moment, put on my last resolution of freeing my selfe. Hely having extolled to me Abdelmelec's valour, and desirous to let me see the proofes, brought me into a very great roome where he had put all his slaves. I looked on them, and though they were all wounded, yet I found them exceeding constant in their adverse fortunes. I bid them (in Spanish) to be of good heart, and told them I would take care for their safety, and labour for their delivery. They gave me thanks, and one amongst them, of an exceeding good aspect, said softly to me, that if he and his companions could but get weapons, he assured himselfe (as incommodated as they were) to get againe what they had lost, and something more. That mans freenesse was like to have ruined him; for Hely suspecting what he said, gave command he should be presently strangled. I besought him to spare his life for my sake: and I had no sooner requested but it was granted me. From the prison we went to our ordinary diversions; and from that day set my wits on worke for the advancement of my Enterprise. I promised so many things, and gave so much to two of my Eunuchs, that by their industry I secretly got Armes out of the fortresse, and as closely sent them to the Christians. Assoone as they were in case to make use of them, and that they had as many as they needed, they broke open their prison, cut the throats of the small Guard they had, and got aboard their ship in the roade of Guarget∣sem. At the same instant the tumult began, I got to the secret staire that went downe from the fortresse to the Sea, and by which my deare Cydaria saved her selfe as I con∣jectured by the ordinary discourse which Hely had with me. When I was got downe, I found a boate ready for me, and my two Eunuchs in it. We got speedily to the ship, and being aboard, the question was, what way to steere, to avoid the falling againe into the hands of our enemies. All the Christians having chosen me for their Commander, besought me still to be their Releasor. The fafest course for us (said I) is to make off from the coast of Africk, because of the great number of Turkish ships which get thi∣ther. But since our ship hath all the markes of those of Turkey, and that our Armes, our Turbants, and the rest of our cloathes, may make us passe for some of their party, let us not lose sight of these coasts, nor engage our selves in a Sea we know not. This ad∣vise was followed; but had it not beene for the ignorance of our Pilot, who the very first night was run out of the way, it had cost us our lives, or at least our Liberties. For Hely assoone as he heard of my escape, sent forth foure great barkes well armed, which he had for the defence of the place, and commanded those that went aboard them, to follow me to the worlds end, rather then let me scape away. Our Pilots error having preserved us from that danger, cast us into another as great. For, we lost sight of land, and were two or three dayes wandring up and downe the Ocean. At last we descried the high mountaine of Teneriffe, but knew it not; and as we were about to land there, a storme cast us on the sides of a little Isle, where I learnt (said he, addressing himself to Zelmatida) at the cost of my bloud, how fatall Polexanders valour is to those that pro∣voke

it. Our Hero being oblieged to answer to these words, extraordinarily praised Iphidamantus; and related to Zelmatida particularly with what generosity his brother had taken Alcidiana's Pilot into his protection, and with what boldnesse he came alone to assaile his whole fleet. After this discourse was ended; Iphidamantus intreated his brother he would be pleased to let him prosecute a design for which he had left Bajazet; and that taking again the ship which he brought from the Pirats Island, he might make an end of his unhappy destiny. Polexander imagining by his words, he laboured under some great perplexity, and loath to use the authority his age gave him over his brother; told him, he might do what he pleased: though (said he) Zelmatida and my self would gladly enjoy you longer with us. But since you are cal'd otherwhere, go when you please. And, who knows but love may be the cause of so speedy a separation? Iphidamantus fighed at his brothers last words, and having taken leave of them both, caused his men to make towards the mouth of the Straights. Achaim, Hamet and many other Cap∣taines of the Pirats, came likewise to bid adieu to Polexander; and giving him extraor∣dinary thanks for the honour and riches whose acquiring he had beene the chiefe cau∣se, swore to him many times, they would eternally preserve the memory of his benefits, and a desire to merit them by their services. Our Hero having bid them all farewell, had now no other thought (if we except the commanding and perpetuall thought which •…•…nseparably linked him to Alcidiana) but to bring back his victorious fleet into the ha∣vens of the Canaries. This resolution was attended with all the happinesse which ac∣companied him when he tooke paines for the contentment of others; and his returne was such a plentifull sourse of delights, as his Isles, how fortunate soever they have beene alwayes esteemed, were ignorant of knowing any the like till to that day.