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

THE FOURTH PART OF POLEXANDER. The third Booke.

IMperious Reason, thou hast more boldnesse then hope, when thou promisest thy selfe to governe absolutely over such powerfull re∣bels as the body raiseth against thee▪ I could not refraine from this exclamation, considering the high resolutions which the superiour part of the soule made our Heroe take on, and the secret repentance which that revolted slave, (I would say sense) made him presently conceive for it. Indeed Polexander had no sooner submitted his love to be ruled by reason, but he thought he had committed an offence that merited more torments then he had suffered; and by a sacrilegious vow, disingag'd himselfe from another which he acknowledged most equitable. Hereupon, he threw himself againe into his griefe and impatiencie, and rather wish'd to perish, then to faile of that dutie which hee thought was owing to the incomparable beautie of Al∣cidiana. My voiage (said hee to himselfe) is no more in my owne disposition; hee which drew mee out of the haven, hath shut up the entrance against mee for ever. I must yeeld to my Fate of necessity, and (without feare of stormes or hope of calmes) perfect that voyage which through it I have undertaken. I know, that this fearfulnesse which they call Reason, would faine by its specious consi∣derations rob me of my desire, as well as it hath done of my hope. But her counsell is too weak to be hearkned to; and the pearlesse Alcidiana should not be what she is, if Reason or Fortune could oppose her resolutions. Though Polexander began this Soliloquy with the same temper hee shew'd in his other loose talkings, yet at last hee grew into such a passion, that forgetting his wounds and the place where he was, hee spake so loud, that Garruca and Diceus heard the five or six last words. They both thought he slept, and being troubled with some strange dreame, deem'd it fitting to put him out of that vexation. They came therefore to his bed, but finding him awake, and at quiet, they onely ask'd him of his health. 'Tis too good (reply'd Polexander) for such a wretch as I am, and 'twill be long of you (speaking to Garruea) if it be not farre better. For you cannot relate to me the happinesse of the King your Master, but in∣stantly our perfect amity makes me resent it, and by consequence brings a great deale of ease and comfort to my paine and sadnesse. Garruca, unwilling to be solicited for a debt which he should already have acquitted: Would to heaven (said he to Polexan∣der) that friendship were able to work the like miracles which are attributed to the imagination! I should then see you freed from some part of your affliction, and (with∣out wearing out your daies in the discovery of an Island that flies from you) you should enjoy Alcidiana, out of the very joy you would conceive in seeing my Lord the Y•…•…ca

in possession of his Izatida. But though so great a happinesse cannot be expected from the relation I am to make you, yet I will not desist; but beleeve I have done well, if I cannot make you sensible of any pleasure, I may (at least for some short while) make a diversion, or work in you some insensibility of your misfortunes. After this pre∣amble, Garruca, a while meditating on what he had to say, (by the expresse command of Polexander) sate downe, and thus began the recitall of his Master's last adventures. Assoone as Zelmatida was recollected from that griefe your separation had wrought in him, and from that excessive joy, caus'd by Izatida's company and her perfect health; he strove to make his happinesse of a long date, and to obtaine from the Princesse, that she would confirme in private those promises shee had made him in your presence. But she stopt my Master in the very beginning of his speech, and forbidding him with a sweet severity to doubt of her word, Doe not imagine (said she) that to comply with any other, or for any bodies sake else I have yielded to what hath past in the Island we came from. I have done it, Zelmatida, because I saw it was your desire, and thought I was bound to it, because I have found you exceeding discreet and very reasonable. Let time then agitate, and without disquiet and unjust longings, aske not the accomplish∣ing of what was promis'd you, but when you see those things effected which ought to precede it. I should (reply'd Zelmatida) be capable of that transcendent wisedome, since your example gives me daily new lessons, but whether I have not sufficient appre∣hension to conceive them, or too much weaknesse to put them in practice, I confesse, Izatida, I cannot attaine to that perfection, nor absolutely enough put off man, to see what is most glorious and faire in the world, and yet not desire it. Take heed you dis∣cover not your selfe (said Izatida) and speak more of it then you would willingly have me know. If those desires of which you speak are tokens of our love, they are so but as the violent fits of a feaver are signes of life. Cure your affection, (if you will take my counsell) purge it of these irregularities, and be certaine, that when wee cover any thing with so much fervency, we rather love our owne content, then the person from whom we expect it. Those judicious corrections prevail'd so much with my Lord the Ynca, that he presently suppress'd all those secret enemies which his sense arm'd a∣gainst his reason; and so unwound himselfe from what was man, and the matter, that his love became altogether intellectuall; and contented with the delights of apprehen∣sion, desired not any more those of enjoying. Izatida thereby knew how true, and extraordinary an Empire she had acquir'd over a spirit so high and so humble. Shee tooke so great a content in it as sweetned the most bitternesse of her fortune, and said often to her selfe, that shee had been ingratefull, had she not inclin'd to the affection of so respectfull and constant a lover. In these pleasing thoughts they both continued during the voyage, and though many tempests cross'd it, yet, I may say, they enjoy'd a continuall calme. Only our mariners felt the incommodities of the sea, who would have refreshed themselves in the Island of Cuba, and already had left their Southerly course to attaine it, when Zelmatida, to whom all delay was insupportable, made them stick to their old steerage, and whilst they had a favourable winde, crosse those large extents which divide the Islands lately discovered by the Spaniards, from the continent of the new world. The end of this voyage was more irksome and tedious then the begin∣ning, for we were almost as long againe in passing from the Isle of Haity to the King∣dome of Quasmez, as we had been in sailing from Cape Verd to the Ken of that Island. After a great deale of trouble we entred the fairest port can be found again in either the one or the other sea, and gave thanks to heaven for our happy successe in the voyage. Assoone as Zelmatida was landed, he discri'd a company of Indians, who with bowes and arrowes in their hands, dragg'd very rudely three prisoners, and it seem'd they were bringing them to their execution. He went to meet them, and at first afrighting the troupe with the strangenesse of his habit and armes, he resetled them straight by speak∣ing their language, and declaring his name and parentage. Those poore people, ravi∣shed with so good a newes, cast out such a cry, and us'd such actions as were as barbarous as themselves; and one among them, thinking to testifie his affection to the Prince with a club, beat out the braines of the yongest of the three prisoners. Zelmatida re∣prehended him for his inhumanity; but with that sweetnesse which should be used in

correcting those that offend through ignorance; and ask'd the rest where they had taken those slaves. Cacique, (said the eldest) look on them well, and thou wilt know who they are. They have left Montezuma's Army, who makes warre with thy father, and are come hither to learne the passages of our Mountaines, for the utter ruine of thy Estate. My Lord the Y•…•…a understanding this, was desirous to know more, and to that end took the Mexicans (with the consent of those that had taken them) and pre∣sently brought them to Izatida. See here (said he) Montezuma's Spies, which have been taken by your fathers Subjects. Izatida was glad of this encounter, and to satisfie her curiosity, ask'd them the state of affaires in Mexico. One of these Spies casting himselfe at the Princesse feet, If (said he) my memory and mine eies deceive me not, you are the fatall Virgin whom Montezuma hath lost; and whose losse (if our Prophets speak true) will be seconded by that of all Mexico. But why call I in doubt so true a verity? Certainly you are Izatida. The Princesse questioning who he was and where he had seen her, the prisoner repli'd, He was a Mexican, of an illustrious family, called Belizco, and had borne armes in all Montezuma's warres, either against Quasmez, the Kings of Tlaxcallan, of Panuco, or other neighbouring nations. For her selfe, he had had the honour to see her often in the Court of Mexico. Izatida, taking him at that word, intreated to know what Montezuma and Hismelita had done since her depar∣ture, and whether any of them which were imploy'd for her destruction, were re∣turn'd to Mexico. I shall not (said Telizco) informe you of all you would know; but I can say, that the King and Queen beleeve you are certainly dead, and that beliefe hath griev'd and so much afflicted them, that if their Priests had not staid their fury, they by some horrid death would have prevented those miseries wherewithall your losse threatned them. Montezuma who is farre lesse violent then the Queen his wife, and be∣leeves far more in the providence of his gods, dispos'd himself by little and little to what their irrevocable destiny had resolv'd, should become of him. He fear'd the thunder was to fall on his head, but he left not to lift up his eies, nor to respect the place from whence it was to come. Hee spent almost his whole daies and nights in the Temples, and as often as I had the honour to waite on him there, I noted, how (after his sacrifices) ad∣dressing himselfe to the chiefest of the Deities, he spake thus: Thine eies which pene∣trate even to the heart, have seen with what an intention I took out of the armes of my brother Quasmez, the onely fruit of his marriage, and the sweet consolation of his old yeares. Thy Prophets have told me many a time, that the safety of my people and mine owne should be secured, when I made the son of a Virgin reigne with me, which should be the delight and hope of Quasmez. I therefore took away his daughter, and did it to conforme my selfe to thy behest. If I have offended in it, thou art the Author of my crime. Justifie me then my Deity, before all my subjects; testifie that I am not guiltie of those teares which Izatida hath shed, nor of that cruell death which Hismelita's wicked Counsellours have made her suffer. Hismelita (said he) had thoughts farre dif∣fering from these, she beleev'd that in bearing down the Images of her Gods, she should overthrow their power; and going further, she perswaded her selfe that she should di∣vert the miseries she feared, in proclaiming abroad there were no Gods at all. Whilst she strove to beguile her subjects by her impieties, she attempted all kind of meanes to hinder the effecting of her Prophets predictions: she put to death all such as by birth∣right or love of the Mexicans might ascend the throne; she kept foure or five great. Ar∣mies on foot, to the end, that by busying the Kings her neighbours in defence of their owne countries, they might neither have will nor power to fall on Mexico. But for as much as she saw amongst all those Kings none so much to be feared as the King your father, she hath turned her principall forces against him; and whilst her husband playes the Priest and the woman, she acts the Generall of the Army, and leads her owne troupes. Twice already hath she cometo handy-stroakes with Quasmes, and made a vow at her entrance into his kingdome, never to lay downe her armes till she had con∣quer'd it. This is a part of what you would know; for that which concernes my self, your subjects have told you the truth. I came with a hundred of my companions to discover the passages of the mountaines, and see if possibly I could slip in some troupes there: last night we were descri'd, and taken in the traps laid for us by the inhabitants

of the mountaines. My companions are slaine, and so had my brother and my selfe, if the generous Zelmatida had not taken us out of the hands of our enemies. Izatida, un∣willing and not able to doe them hurt that had an intention to doe it her, intreated Zelmatida to give the two Mexicans their lives, which obtaining, she sent them to be refresh'd and resetled amongst our servants and mariners. Zelmatida in the meane while accepting the glorious occasion that Hismalita's warre presented to his courage, as a new gratification from fortune, intreated Izatida to crosse the mountaines, and undergoe the incommodities of a way which would bring her into the armes of the King her father, You may imagine whether she tooke time to resolve on that jour∣ney; certainly if they would have been rul'd by her, they had presently quit the ship; but her safetie was too deare to Zelmatida, to be put in hazard among so many enemies as were ranging in the countrey: he intended therfore to march somewhat strong for the avoiding of mishaps, and therefore landed with the most of his servants. Some twelve or fifteene of them he sent about the villages at hand to make knowne his re∣turne, and gathered as much force as they could. Every one with a great deale of joy made ready for the journey; M•…•… •…•…care master promis'd to himselfe to doe so many va∣lorous actions, as should blot out the memorie of his predecessours; and all wee that were with him, wished for nothing else then to be at blowes with our enemies. Wee had yet left us eight of those horses you gave my master, and we were all so well arm'd, that each of us might without rashnesse undertake a hundred Mexicans. I caus'd our horses to be landed, to refresh and easethem after their ill usage at sea, and make them able within a few dayes to doe us service. Zelmatida in the meane while courteously welcom'd such as at the first newes of his returne quitted their abodes to come to him; and indeed the love which all those poore savages bore him was so great, that the very women followed their husbands to the wars, and the most decrepit old men would not be dispensed withall. In lesse then fifteene dayes the Prince had seven or eight thou∣sand men, so resolv'd to fight, as if every particular man had taken armes for his owne interest. He did with these new souldiers, what he had in former time done with the Mexicans: he taught them to keep their rankes to fight, and to relieve one another; and having made them capable of discipline sufficiently reasonable for them, he intrea∣ted Izatida to begin her journey. Some two hundred of the youngest amongst his Souldiers he selected, and giving the charge of them to Bereamis, who was very well ar∣med & mounted, sent them before to accommodate the worst wayes, take notice of the fittest places for lodging, and serve for Avant-Courieers to the armie. At breake of day Bereamis set on; my Lord the Ynca commanded me to march five or six houres after, and himselfe followed me far enough off, to accompanie the Princesse, Mexiqua, which he caus'd to be carried in covered chaires. The first dayes journey was not long; Zelmatida was contented, he was entred the mountaines, and made seen when it came to bed-time, how ingenious lovers are, when there is question of accommodating their Mistresses. He had privately made many little cabbins of wood, which with a great deale of facilitie being to be set up and taken downe might be as easily carried. That which was appointed for Izatida, was pight in a place as pleasant as the sharpnesse of the moun∣taines would permit it: the out-side was weather-proof against the most boisterous tem∣per of that climate, and within so rich and well furnished, that the chamber wherein Bajazet and Zelmatida first saw one another, was but a foile to it. We march'd neere ten dayes along fearfull precipices, though we had to go not above twelve or fifteene of your leagues: At last we came out of those frightfull solitudes, and descride at foot of the mountaines two armies, which joyning at the very time we were in sight of them, made us conjecture they had expected us to have some judge or witnesse of their com∣bate. Zelmatida after he had caus'd the Princesses chamber to be set up, left me (with a thousand men) for her guard; and told me at his departure, that his good or ill fortune depended not on what he was going about, but in that treasure which he intrusted to my courage and affection. Your enemies (I repli'd) will not be so hardy to set on us in places so advantageous on our side; but if by chance they undertake it, assure your self we will perish all, one after another ere they come any thing neere the Princesse. Zel∣matida, thereupon mounted on that brave courser (Alzan) which you gave him in the

Isle of Teneriffe, and all cover'd with his guilt armour, descended with his troupes from the top of the mountaine into those large plaines which the combatants had chosen where to fight their battle. There was (at his coming) such a generall affright to see him in that equipage, that he was taken for some strange monster by both the armies; but his servants making the name of Zelmatida to resound againe through all the vale, so inspir'd with courage Quasmes troupes, and so absolutely quail'd it in Hismelita's that the one halfe of them fled, and the other let themselves passe the edge of the sword, ra∣ther then to abandon and leave their Queen to the mercy of her enemies. Our souldiers at last inclos'd her, and more then a thousand arrowes aim'd at her, were about to avenge as many innocents which she had oppressed, and to punish her for no fewer crimes. When Zelmatida staid that cruell execution, he tooke off his helmet, and addressing himselfe to the chiefe officers of Quasmes armie, My friends (said he) be not carried away by your first thoughts, nor blemish the glory you have lately acquir'd by the death of a woman, and a woman that begs her life of you. This remonstrance wrought some∣what, but not enough to stop the generall furie and hatred; the Ynca (my master) tooke notice of it, and presently thought, that to save Hismelita there was no way, but to make a shew of ill-treating her: Hereupon he caus'd her to be taken by Bereamis, and command him (aloud) to guard her so well, that she might not escape that punish∣ment which her wickednesse had deserved. In the meane time, the battle being fully gotten, and of so many thousand Mexicans not one appearing, who was not either dead or a prisoner; Zelmatida thought on Quasmes, and ask'd for him of some Caciques his tributaries; who told him that having been for six moneths together in the armie, in such incommodities as his age could not indure he was falne ficke, and inforc'd to be carried to a palace some two leagues from the camp. Presently the Prince sent away the young Cacique Procoros, to let him know of his victorie and returne; himselfe in the meane while went to Izatida, to be the messenger of his owne good fortune: in few words he made knowne that dayes successe, and when he related to her the lamentable condition of Hismelita, he perceiv'd that sweet natur'd Princesse to shed teares, and could not without griefe heare the miserie of her enemie. Zelmatida seeing her re∣sentment, commanded me to take care of the unfortunate woman, and to treat her ac∣cording to the greatnesse of her condition: I confesse that imployment had not beene very welcome, but that the commands of my Lord the Ynca were alwayes deare unto me. But I was quickly freed from that guard, for the next day receiving order to con∣duct Hismelita to Quasmes castle; when she was before the King, she perceiv'd Zelma∣tida and Izatida whom he held by the hands; at which sight, breaking the silence she had hitherto kept, Base cheaters, (cri'd she) traitours, who have abused me with your lying promises; must I then before the end of my dayes feel greater miseries then those your impostures seem'd to threaten me withall? You have resolv'd then that these two plagues so fatall to Mexico, accomplish that cruell destinie for which you brought them into the world? Could neither iron nor poison, nor the furie of man, nor of the elements, deliver me from these subverters of mine Empire? And is my fortune come to that point it ought, that I must live a slave to those tyrants which have pluck'd me from my throne? No, no, fierce and not to be reconciled enemies, unpitifull gods, you shall tri∣umph no more o're Hismelita: she defies all your unjust power, she contemnes your thunder, and knowing well, that with the losse of life, we lose the vaine terrour of your names, she will not be so cowardly and base to preserve that which maintaine your ty∣rannie. Quasmes affrighted at that monster's blasphemie, lifted his eyes and hands to heaven, to turne away the thunder that wicked woman had deserved: Zelmatida ap∣proaching, intreated her to disbeguile her minde of all such errours, where into her false Prophets had plunged her, and to beleeve that neither Quasmes nor the Princesse had any designe on her estates or her life. Izatida added to those remonstrances her teares and supplications, call'd Hismelita her Lady and mother; and imbracing her, besought her to be consolated and to live. But that eternall Justice which abandons all obdu∣rate offenders to furie and despaire, would not have that Queenes impietie remaine un∣punished: in lieu of being mov'd with the goodnesse of our two lovers, her rage in∣creas'd by it; she thrust Izatida (with all her force) against Quasmes; and (said she) go

thou unluckie maid, goe, and in the armes of thy father injoy my cares and watchings, with all the troubles thy infancie brought on me: with that the desperate woman snatch∣ing an arrow from one of the guard, stroke her selfe to the heart before any that were by could hinder her. At these words, Polexander interrupting Garruca, You have been so hasty (said he) to be rid of your prisoner, that you have forgotten one of the best peeces of your narration; I meane the first interview of the father and the daughter, and Quas∣mes joy he tooke in re-seeing Zelmatida after so long an absence. I confesse (repli'd Gar∣ruca) I should not deprive you of a contentment which should be infinite, were it equall to that which the good Quasmes resented, to see his so much desired Xaira, and Zelmatida whom he no lesse affected then if he had beene his owne sonne. But my fault is not so great as I imagin'd, for that adventure is too admirably high to be well expressed: your imagination onely must represent it, if you will not lose the principall beauties of it. My relation would blurre it, and I can conceive nothing that might describe to you the joy and astonishment of the father, the gladnesse of the daughter, the rapture of Zelmatida, and the admiration of their subjects: give me leave therefore to speake nothing of it for feare of being too troublesome, and be pleas'd I may abridge my dear Masters adventures. Quasmes, who at the newes of Zelmatida's returne, was falne into many faintings, and seeing him come with his daughter was like to die for joy, could not taste the excesse of his happinesse till many dayes after their arrivall. Hismelita's death troubled him, but his disturbances were accompanied with an extreame consolation, when he began to con∣sider that she had assured him of Izatida's being the same Xaira which she had caus'd to be stolne from him in her cradle: neither had he left any more of those scruples, feares and distrusts which the long losse of his Xaira threw on him, but resenting his happinesse all pure as it was, went to the Temples to give their infinite thankes to the author of it. Af∣ter a great number of sacrifices and offerings, he caus'd to be published amongst his sub∣jects, the accomplishment of those Prophesies which had troubled him for so many years; and to make his joy the more absolute, he desir'd to communicate it to her that was the halfe of himselfe. That pious Princesse kept her bed, through a debilitation of all parts of her body, and had not been able to follow Quasmes; he went therefore to her (with his children in his capitall citie) and presenting Izatida to her, was not much troubled to perswade that she was the true Xaira: her bloud, her bowels, and her transports, as∣sur'd that veritie; and at the very time, the old Prophet Thisnatidez coming in, Doubt not, O Queene, (said he) the Lady whom you see before you is the same whose losse I foretold you, and now confirme her recoverie. Taste in peace those contentments hea∣ven bestowes on you, for a retribution of your good deeds; and recompencing Zelmati∣da's travels and vertues with a reward worthy himselfe, strive to preserve in your posteri∣tie that lawfull authority which the supernaturall favour crown'd you withall. This speech calming all the vertuous Queenes agitations, and confirming Quasmes in his be∣liefe, the businesse was to perfect all things else. The first resolv'd on was to send back Hismelita's body to the King her husband, and in lieu of demanding reparation for the wrongs his Armies had done, to offer him the alliance and friendship of Quasmes, and my Lord the Ynca. Whilst this Embassy was in hand, Zelmatida pressed for the conclu∣sion of the marriage; he intreated Quasmes and the Queene, that they would not take from him the quality of a sonne which they had given him from his cradle; and though he acknowledged himselfe unworthy of it, he humbly besought them to ratifie the will of heaven, and yeeld to an alliance which had beene written there already. Thisnatidez came in the interim of these sollicitations, and taking off the sole difficultie on which they stucke; No, no, feare not (said he) you have not recovered your daughter to lose her againe: she shall never be taken from you; and though the Prince to whom heaven hath destinated her, is to reigne in a countrey farre remote from hence; yet 'tis decree'd, that Xaira shall close your eyes; and before you leave this life for a better, make you live a∣new in two Princes, which shall be the wonders of their age, and the last defenders of our dying liberty. These promises accomplished that great worke; Xaira was solemnly pro∣mised to her loyall Zelmatida, and a little while after, given up to his impatient longings. The very day of his nuptials, six Courriers of Guinaca came ro Quasmes Court, to in∣quire for Zelmatida, and make knowne to Quasmes the estate of the affaires at Cusco:

these messengers meeting with such happinesse as they durst not hope for, assisted at the marriage of their Prince, and with their usuall diligence returned to the King their master. Zelmatida thought on you in the height of his contentments, and comman∣ded me once more to crosse the Ocean, to bring you newes of his happinesse. Thus (Sir) have you all that you would know of me, there remaines nothing else for me to say, but that Time shall never blot out of my Master's memorie, either the favours he hath received from you, or the friendship he hath promised. Polexander, after Gar∣ruca had ended his relation, sigh'd often; and then, Thy master (said he) is at last most happie; but I, deare Garruca, am more afflicted then ever, and thinke I should sooner make a way to climbe up into heaven, then finde that which leads to Alcidiana's Island: Yet must I persever, and like our deare Zelmatida, I propose to my selfe no other end but death or victorie. After this discourse, Polexander had many more with Garruca, whereby he was fully informed of divers particulars which that wise favourite had too lightly touched on; afterwards, he instructed him in all such things as the good Quasmes and his children expected from his love and knowledge. When he saw his wounds were halfe well, and that time alone might perfect the rest, he thought it best to returne to the Canaries in Garruca's ship, that he might there give him one, wherein to return to the new world, and put himself in case to attempt againe the enterprise he had so often fail'd in. Garruca understanding his resolution, presently caus'd to be repair'd all that his ship needed, and so set saile assoone as the winde served. Diceus, who was no ill Pilot, judging very neere what courses they were to steere, guided them so luckily, and so well amended the Compasse by which Garruca had beene directed, that the fifth day of their navigation they were in sight of the Canaries. Our Heroe landed in the new Island of Alcidiana, and finding all things there in the same case he had left them, re∣solv'd to goe thence assoone as Garruca had taken his leave of him. A few dayes after his arrivall there came newes which alter'd that designe, or at least retarded the execu∣tion of it. The inhabitants of Gomera and Teneriffe hearing of his returne, gave him notice that Ferdinand and Isabell prepar'd a great armie in Palos de Moquer, and that St. Lucar de Barrameda, to reconquer the Canaries, and wrong the liberties of all those Islands inhabitants. Polexander animated with a just anger against the ambition of those Princes that would not permit libertie to finde any sanctuarie either in the Continent or Islands, made all the Canarians take armes, and having not ships enough to incounter the Spaniards at sea, put himselfe into the great Canarie, as in that, which in his judgement would be first set on. It was so indeed, and Don Pedro de Vero, Vice∣admirall of Castile landed there with above three thousand naturall Spaniards: He had conquer'd it before it had delivered it selfe into the hands of Polexander; but hee found now that he had not to doe with a Doramas, a Guavartem, nor such Barbarians as be∣fore time possest it. Our Heroe the second time made the Spaniards know, they were in an errour to call themselves invincible, and the men alone that deserve to be masters of the world. Their ships were all either sunke or burn•…•…; the Vice-admirall had the honour to die by the hand of Polexander, and above five hundred Spaniards which had scap'd the furie of the sword, were taken and sold up and downe the Islands. Polexan∣der thus punished them, to teach their pride, how insupportable slaverie is, and make them feele the heavinesse of that yoke which they would impose on all nations else. After a victorie as glorious for our Heroe as that which he wonne on the famous Fer∣nandez de Sajavedra, hee was not esteem'd for a mortall man among the Canarians. They published every where that he was one of those Gods which they had before time adored, and but for the punishments which he was constrained to appoint against the authors of such pernicious opinions; that people to render him divine honour, had con∣founded the Christianitie which of late yeares they had professed, with the Idolatrie which by force they had only quitted. Garruca was witnesse of our Heroe's last won∣ders, and after he had obtained from him all that Quasmes and Zelmatida had desired; returned thence replenished with the admiration of his vertues, and inrich'd with his presents. Polexander on his side, commanded new sorts to be made on all the Islands, to take from the Spaniards all desire of returning thither; or at least, the thought of conquering them; and assoone as they were defencible, he not onely put to sea, but

made a vow in going out of that port, never to see the Canaries againe, nor by his will ever set foot on land againe but in the kingdome of Alcidiana. He commanded his ma∣riners to take the same course they had done before, and they tooke it as much in vain as they had done before. His vessell made above three hundred leagues instead of a hun∣dred, and was almost a moneth ceaselesly beating up and downe the same ruts, (if it be lawfull for me to use a tearme so unknowne to Mariners.) Not a day passed but they made him new promises to finde the Inaccessible Island, and at every little cloud which a∣rose from the sea, they came with false comfort to him, and assured him they saw the white clifts of that fatall abiding. After the Prince had beene thus often deceived, hee perceived that fortune affected as much as ever all occasions to laugh at him; and that the vain favours which she oblig'd him withall by the lasting calme, were but new proofs of her jealousie: Wilt thou (said he to that imaginary Power) be alwayes so ingenious to torment me, and so dextrous to strike, that not any one of thy blowes can prove mortall? Why covet'st thou not as well my death as my affliction, or why exposest thou me to so many differing persecutions, if thou wouldst not have me die? Cruell and fan∣tasticall! that canst not indure I should be happy, and yet takest not away absolutely my hope of being so; be once at one with thy selfe; hearken to thy sole inhumanitie, since thou altogether takest pleasure in mischiefe; awaken the windes which sleep, raise up the tempests, and rending my vessell against some one of the rockes in these seas, suffer me no longer to contest with thy will. As he had spoke thus, one of his brought him word they descri'd a ship in their course, presently Polexander thought it might be some of Alcidiana's vessels, and on that beliefe commanded to make up to her, or at least not to lose sight of her. When they had receiv'd this order, they clapped on all their sailes, and in lesse then an houre came up and laid her aboard as friends, and were so welcom'd by those that were in her: for instead of taking armes, they fell to clapping their hands, and intimate by their talke that they had met with what they had been a long time seek∣ing after. Polexander seeing those strangers so jocund and merry, kept as neere them as he could, and needing not speake very loud to be heard, ask'd whence they were, and whi∣ther they were bound. We are Danes (they repli'd) and are in quest of an Island which flies from us, and gets out of sight assoone as 'tis discovered; if you are such as can sur∣mount that Islands inchantment, imploy your skill in our behalfe. Wee are going to Alcidiana from a personage that is very deare unto her, and carrie her the most pleasing newes she can ever receive againe. Polexander, even rapt at so happy an incounter, an∣swered the Danes, that he had the same designe, and was in the like perplexity as they: I have a long time (said he) sought that inchanted Isle, or some one of those that have the power of dissolving its inchantments; but hitherto all my search hath been in vaine, and for these two yeares I have wandred as you, and yet cannot discover that fleeting Island. He had no sooner spoken, when a Dane breaking out into an extraordinary admiration, O (said he) how well hath our voiage thriv'd, my companions, if I may beleeve mine eares and eyes: Free me from the trouble I am in (said he to our Heroe) and conceale not your selfe from such, who account this meeting amongst the greatest of their felicities, if you be Polexander. Our Heroe was much surpris'd at so unhop'd for a question; yet he would not conceale himselfe, how great soever his reason was to doe it; and telling the Dane that his name was Polexander, intreated him withall to relate, how Phelismond stood with the King his master. I cannot give you satisfaction to what you demand (answered the Dane) till I am in place where I may speake without witnesses and feare; but if you please that our ships may goe in consort-ship, I will come aboard of yours, and at leasure relating Phelismonds adventures, free you from an errour, which (as generous as you are) certainely throwes on you a great deale of jealousie and disquiet. Polexan∣der no sooner heard the Danes proposition but he accepted it, and presently com∣manding his mariners to joyne indeed with the Danish ship, he tooke into his own that messenger of so great and good novelties. The complements ended, he brought him in∣to his cabin, and commanding his servants away, was alone with him: I will then (said the Dane) begin to atquit my selfe of what I promis'd in presenting you this letter, and therevvith he put into our Heroe's hand a packet on vvhich vvas vvritten, To Polexan∣der King of the Canaries. He open'd it, and there found a letter vvhich said thus:

MY dearest brother (let me call you so, for I finde no tearme like that which can so well expresse the greatnesse of my affection, nor the happinesse I wish you, if you injoy it not,) be pleas'd to know that all those whom I have sent to the Canaries, to re∣new the assurance of my love and service, have return'd without informing me any thing concerning your selfe, that could either content or give me satisfaction: they could one∣ly relate to me your absence, and your subjects sorrow for your losse. I at last perswa∣ded my selfe that you were return'd to the Inaccessible Island, and that Alcidiana (o're∣come by your services as well as by your merit) had given you both her crowne and fa∣vour, as the sole reward wherewithall she could remunerate the paines and travels you have indured for her. If your longings have receiv'd so good a satisfaction, the Embas∣sadours I now send to that Princesse, will impart some of those secrecies to you, which they goe to intimate to her; and will protest on my behalfe, as I doe by this letter, that the throne wherein I am seated, hath nothing in it so pleasing as the beliefe I have of your enjoying Alcidiana.

After Polexander had read this letter, he gaz'd on the person that gave it him, as if he would aske, whether truely Phelismond had sent it; the Dane surely knew the Prince's meaning, and to put him out of trouble, The King my master (said he) hath comman∣ded me to make you a relation of all which hath hapned since the day of your separation, and particularly to assure you, that the love he bore to Alcidiana, is absolutely confin'd within the bounds of friendship. I could expect no lesse (repli'd our Heroe) from Phe∣lismond: he must yet give me leave to be sorry for his change, and to accuse him for pre∣ferring Ambition before Love, and the Crowne of Denmarke before the service of Alci∣diana. The Dane smiling at these upbraidings, Your Majestie (said he) may be pleas'd to give me leave to contradict your opinion, and condemne your accusations as unjust: 'tis true, Phelismond hath taken on him the Crowne of Denmarke, that hee might no more dreame of his enjoying Alcidiana; but it is not so true (I beseech your Majestie to pardon this boldnesse) that his ambition hath beene more prevalent then his love. Hee loves Alcidiana as much as he hath ever done, but loves her not the same way; and is still her affectionate servant, though he be no more her lover. The sense of what you speak (repli'd Polexander) is too mysterious to be deciphered. 'Tis very true (said the Dane) that the veritie I announce to you, is able to astonish your wit and thought, rather then to convince it; and though all its circumstances have betided, yet hath it so little of or∣dinary events, that it may passe with you, for one of those wittie intrications of the The∣ater, represented for the peoples admiration, to suspend the functions of their soules on the doubtfull expectation of a successe which they could not foresee. You will there∣fore I hope give me leave to exercise a little your patience, and (as if I repeated one of those stage-peeces) clearely make manifest to you, by little and little, Phelismond's adventures.

The late King of Denmarke in lieu of being displeas'd with that worthy favorite, for so many combates he had undergone, and so many disobediences he had rendred to save your person, conceiv'd so extreame an opinion of that Prince's generousnesse, that hee thought himselfe not able to give him sufficient testimonie of his affection, if he forgave him not the losse of his daughter, and (in his life time) plac'd not the Crowne of Den∣marke on his head. To that end, he convocated the Estates of his kingdome, and re∣monstrating that in the state their affaires stood, there needed a man to command them; besought them (with teares) to approve of the election he had made of his successour: I know (said he) that the love you beare my daughter (though (may be) she is not now a∣mong the living) is more deare to you then your owne interests, and may make you ob∣stinately resist all other election which may seeme to exclude your Princesse from that dignity she might claime by birth-right. But let not that consideration amuse you, the successour I have chosen is such, that in giving him my crowne, I assure it to my daughter, and in giving him you for your Lord, I secure you the conquest of Sweden and Poland, and make you the arbitratours of all the German liberty; I think there is no need for me to name to you that worthy successour. The thoughts of all you here abouts are cast on Phelismond, and seeme to say to one another that 'tis he alone from whom these

wonders are to be expected. 'Tis true my loyall subjects, it is Phelismond; I say Phelis∣mond, who hath intomb'd those discords which laid waste your families, who hath re∣veng'd the authoritie royall for the Norway revolt, who hath knock'd in againe the Swedish ambition even into the deserts of Lapland; and finally, who hath made Poland feele, that her Cavalry (as valiant as it is) is not invincible: I know what his enemies can say for his exclusion, The mournfull accident which betided the imprudent Helis∣mena may be laid to his charge (with that he put his handkerchiefe on his eyes:) but why should the remembrance of so lamentable a historie cast us into our former sorrowes? Let us burie in oblivion (since 'tis the will of heaven) that disastrous accident, and strike it out of the number of whatsoever cases have mis-betided; strike out that unhappy day of Helismena's losse, from amongst those which compose and fill up the ages. On so sad a subject let us impose an eternall silence, and so discreetly conceal our shame, that gliding away by little and little in the traine of years, it may never come to the know∣ledge of posterity. When the King had spoke thus, he was going on to the election of Phelismond, but that generous Favourite preventing the Danes remonstrances, cast him∣self at the feet of the King his master; and decyphering himselfe as the most despicable of men, besought him not to place in his throne, the man, who had pluck'd thence the lawfull Inheritrix: Rather (said he) render that Justice, which so many good men peti∣tion for, against the ingratefull Phelismond. Let him die, or at least make him a va∣gabond and wretched all the rest of his dayes, since he hath dar'd to faile in his obsequi∣ousnesse and respect to your owne bloud. Those words drew teares from the Kings eyes, and so mov'd all the assembly, that even those who came thither most averse for Phelismond, were the first that desir'd the conclusion of his election. He on the con∣trary seeing it not likely to be longer hindered, would at least have delai'd it; and there∣fore fell againe at his master's feet, and more and more expressing his generousnesse, Sir (said he) if my good destinie can give me the boldnesse to force from your Majestie a∣ny thing beyond that which you have pleas'd to bestow on me; accord to my humblest petition, and the just instances of so many illustrious personages, that my election (which you intend) goe no further on, but be defer'd till the returne of such as shall be chosen to goe in quest of the Princesse. All the assembly falling on their knees to ob∣taine from the King that which Phelismond had propos'd; had the satisfaction to get from him what their respect and loyaltie scarce permitted them to demand. The estates being thus dissolv'd, the businesse was for the chusing of such as were to goe in quest of Helismena. Phelismond would be one, and for all the obstacles the King could lay in his way, he got to sea assoone as the rest, and was neere six moneths in the voiage. 'Tis best to speake of things as they are, he had either an inclination to the Princesse of Denmarke, or with his hope of enjoying Alcidiana, had lost all the love he bore her: but acknowledging himselfe extraordinarily indebted to (both) the fathers and daughters love; he would give to his resentment and to Justice, what he could not to love. He return'd as he went, and reap'd no other fruits of his labour, but the satis∣faction of having done his dutie. At that word, Polexander interupting the Dane, Be pleas'd (said he) that I renew my accusation, and noting so great a coldnesse in the King your master, persist in my former expostulation. For his sake, I will thinke that 'twas for the sole consideration of the honour and dutie he bore to Helismena; but how will he justifie his small remembrance of Alcidiana? Certainly, were I little lesse his friend then I am, I would goe further, and say, there remain'd not in him the cold ashes of all that great fire which the faire Idea of that incomparable Queene had kindled in his heart. You may without offence speake it, (repli'd the Dane) for 'tis true, from that time forward he was cur'd of his wonderfull love to Alcidiana; yet must you not for all that change, accuse him of inconstancie. He alter'd not, but when he saw that reason, his conscience, the lawes of honour, and the successe of your combate, absolutely for∣bad him to persevere. And if those powerfull considerations had been too few to sway him to that alteration, he had receiv'd such advertisements from Thamiris, as after them he was not permitted to be any more the passionate servant of Alcidiana. I would faine know (said Polexandervery coldly) of what importance those advertisements (of which you speake) were before I can justifie Phelismond's alteration. They were

these repli'd the Dane: Some two moneths after my master's returne into Denmarke, Thamiris fell sicke, and as if she had receiv'd some secret notice of the end of her dayes, she assured Phelismond she was to die of that sicknesse. That Prince who had alwayes lov'd her as his mother, left the Court; and giving no care to his flatterers, abode two moneths intire with that Lady. There was no kinde of service (which could be expected from him) wanting; nor ordinary or unusuall remedies, but he made use of to preserve her life. Yet Thamiris receiving them onely to make Phelismond beleeve shee desired not to die, secretly prepared her self for it, with all the love and feare could be expected from Heaven; and seeing her selfe neere her end, was desirous to speake with Phelismond apart: presently, all were commanded to avoid the chamber, and the doores being shut, that good Lady in lieu of speaking, fell (lovingly) on Phelismond's face; as he lay weeping on her boulster. After she had lean'd there a while, she rais'd her selfe, and ma∣king no shew by her speech of her weaknesse; Phelismond (said she) you are like to lose a mother, who hath ever loved you as tenderly, as possibly she could doe who brought you into the world: but first I will tell you who she was, since I alone can informe you of her. Know Phelismond, you are no Dane, but an Englishman at least by your mother, and sprung from that ancient family which at this day reignes in England: you are of the bloud of Yorke, born among the High-landers in Scotland, and brought up in Den∣marke. This exceeding newes is to be but the least part of your contentment; I am to tell you another farre greater: You are the sonne of the great Alcidus (King of the Inac∣cessible Island) and brother to Alcidiana. Brother to Alcidiana! (said Polexander, inter∣rupting the Dane.) Yes Sir, (repli'd he) Phelismond is Alcidiana's brother; and when Thamiris made knowne that secret, he was not lesse surpris'd then you seeme to be. That I am Alcidiana's brother, (said he to Thamiris) Ah! Madam, pardon me, if I beseech you to come againe to your selfe, and a little suppresse your malady which seemes to hinder your thought of what you have to relate to me. No, no, my sonne (repli'd that good Lady) I talke not idlely, I tell you once againe that you are Alcidiana's brother; and if you will give me leave to end what I have begun, you shall be fully cleared of that which so much amazeth you. Phelismond grew silent for feare of displeasing Thamiris, and rested farre more attentive then he had been, that he might not lose the strange particula∣rities of his birth. Thamiris hereupon began againe, and holding Phelismond by the hand, You may know (said she) that amongst other fundamentall Lawes of the Inaccessi∣ble Island, there is one, by which it is commanded, whoever reignes there of either sex, to chuse every yeare from among the Princes and other great Lords of the Kingdome, a man of extraordinary vertue, and to constitute him chiefe Priest, and King of the Sacrifi∣catory; to the end, that in the name of the Monarch and the Subjects, he may goe and render the tribute of love and acknowledgement, which from all times the Countrey, is bound to pay to the Temple of a certaine God which is adored under the figure of the Sunne. Pimantus, father of Alcidus, desirous his sonne should receive that Soveraigne Priest-hood, before he came to his Regality; chose him to goe into the Isle of the Sun to performe the sacrifice of alliance. The young Prince overjoy'd at such an occasion for his seeing other countries and other seas then his own, imbarked himself in the sacred vessell; and taking with him the miraculous birds, by whose flight, as by the needle of the Compasse, they us'd to be guided to the Inaccessible Island; he commanded his ma∣riners to give over their course for the Isle of the Sunne, and stand for the coast of Afri∣ca. The Priests and other Officers fell at his feet to make him alter so strange a resoluti∣on; but he giving no eare to their remonstrances, would be absolutely obeyed. His Pi∣lots that had neither knowledge of needle nor art of navigation, left themselves to the wind, and judging by the Sunne whereabout that part of the world should lie which their Prince call'd Africa, were cast by the winde amongst some Islands that were some hun∣dred leagues from their owne; where Alcidus found such extreame rude people, that without making any stay he sail'd on, and came to an anchor on the coast of Morocco. Sometime he staid there, but troubled with the heate of the climate, and the barbarous∣nesse of the Inhabitants, he sail'd into Europe. When he came in sight of Spaine, he met with atempest, which holding him above a moneth betwixt life and death, drove him happily (at last) into England. To that Court he came unknown, and growing quickly

weary, left it, to travell through the principall Shires. At last he came to a place where the Dutchesse of Yorke was confin'd by a Tyrant King, with her two daughters: but he being slaine, the successour married one of them to a principall instrument of hi•…•… greatnesse, and left the second (faire and young) to her owne disposall. Alcidus being by chance in companie, where she made appeare to the utmost, both her sweet demea∣nor, her wit and beautie, he became infinitely in love with her, and was no lesse belo∣ved of chat Princesse. Their sicknesse being reciprocall, made them equally have re∣course to a remedie. Young Alcidus making use of that age'•…•… libertie which hath no greater an enemie them wisdome, gave the Princesse notice of the wounds she had gi∣ven him, and besought her not to treate as one of the vulgar, the Inheritor of one of the fairest Crownes in the world. Phelismonda (so was your mother call'd) was not deafe to his petition, she let him know she had pity on what he suffered; But (said that amorous Princesse) I advertise you, that the remedie which you seeke for it, is not so much in my power, but it is farre more in your owne. Young Alcidus considering himselfe already as a conquerour, forgot nothing which he thought might any way ad∣vance his triumph; he vowed his constancie and saith inviolable; he joyned oathes with promises, and presently complain'd of Phelismonda for her deferring the requiring his putting them in exec•…•…ion. She then laid before him, that being borne the daughter of a great King, sister to another, and by right to pretend to the Crowne of England, she desir'd a husband that might re-establish her in the throne, and not a lover who might absolutely ruine her. Alcidus found nothing rigid in this proposition, he pro∣tested that his love was pure and innocent; that he looked on Phelismonda with no o∣ther intent, then to honour her with those Crowns were ass•…•…'d him; and that she might not doubt of it, promised to espouse her publikely Phelismonda yeelded after she had so well ended her treatie; and fearing left her marriage might be knowne to the King, intreated your father to demeane himselfe towards her the most reservedly hee could possibly. But that secret could not be long time conceal'd; Alcidus's too often visits working a jealousie in the King of England•…•… Spies, the businesse was discover'd, and all that Alcidus and Phelismonds could doe, was to •…•…don England, and put themselves to the mercy of an extreame turbulent sea. They were cast on the wilde parts of Scot∣land, and as I had bene the sole confident in your mothers love, so was I the sole she∣companion of the miseries she refented. A little while after we arriv'd among those people, she found her selfe indispos'd: the alteration of her countenance, her waxing lea∣nish, her squeamishnesse, her drooping, and continuall faintings, made me thinke that her indisposition was but an effect of her being with childe. I advertis'd Alcidus of it, who resolv'd (for all that we could say) not to hazard his Lady in the case she was: hee went not from her farre in five moneths, and though he were continually intreated to goe thence, he preferred (generously) his love and faith before any consideration of his estate; and would not put to sea againe, till Phelismonda could indure the incommodi∣ties of a voiage, which he would not undertake without her. In the meane time, the fatall tearme of your birth came on; but O sad and mournfull day! can I call thee to minde without the losse of that short remainder of life which is left me? The unfortu∣nate Phelismonda felt all the throwes which women undergoe in their labours, yet could not be brought to bed. The remedies we appli'd for her succour did but hasten her end; when she perceiv'd her selfe to faile, she fell gently on the face of her half dead husband, and glewing (as it were) her mouth to his; Preserve at least (said she) the re∣membrance of our loves, since heaven will have nothing else left thee! and with those words she died. Alcidus presently tearing his haire, and acting the part of a man despe∣rate, not onely forsooke the little cotes wherein we had liv'd all the time of your mo∣thers going with childe, but instantly imbarked himselfe, and fet saile. I have alwayes thought that his extreame griefe was so prevalent, as to make him intend his owne losse, after that of Phelismonda; and for that cause would not trouble himselfe either with mee, or any of his Lady's women. He was not long gone out of the chamber, but I felt you stirre in your mothers wombe, whereupon I call'd for a Surgeon that was come to assist us, and caus'd him to open one of Phelismonda's sides, from whence he tooke you, and after his well treating, assured me you were likely to live. The desire I had

to preserve all that was left me of my deare Phelismonda, made me suspend the resent∣ment of her losse. I sent to informe the wilder people (who were somewhat huma∣niz'd by our conversation) of our misfortune: some of them brought us women but lately up from childebirth, and offered them for your nurses; of which I retain'd three, and by their help, or rather (if you will permit me to say so) through a true maternall love, I overcame the rendernesse and infirmitie of your infancie. Neere eighteene moneths staid I in Scotland, so much incommodated that I resolv'd to get thence; but unwilling to returne into England, I was much troubled in thinking of a place where I might put you in safetie. Fortune, who at that time destin'd you for the Crowne of Denmarke, brought a ship to the place where I had put you to be nursed; there I im∣barked me, and taking you along in spight of all the English Ambushes, came happily to Copenhagen. Loe, (my deare sonne) all that which I have been desirous to have my conscience discharg'd of before I leave you: I thought it not fit (to any purpose) to give you sooner notice of it, for feare lest it might prove a hinderance to your attaining that Throne, to which your vertue hath rais'd you, in stead of those you have beene de∣prived of by fortune. I confesse that many times since the fatall moment wherein you became so much inamoured on your sister's portraict, I have been on the point to declare to you what I have now related; but seeing there was nought (in your love) to be fea∣red considering the inchanted abode where Alcidiana is inclosed; and besides, I know not what Spirit suggesting to me new prohibitions; I imagin'd that the decree of eter∣nall Providence would have all the ventures of your birth concealed still from you. Thamiris thus ended her narration, and afterwards unwilling to heare any more of what concerned the world, died so well, that envie and scandall openly repented them∣selves of such falsities as they had invented against her vertue, and contributed as much as they could towards her beatification. Here the Dane stopp'd, and left Polexander in such an admiration, that he was a prettie while without being able to perswade him∣selfe that the truths he had heard, were any other then dreames and illusions. At last, recollecting himselfe from his wouder, Must I then (said he) beleeve that Phelismond is Alcidiana's brother? You are to credit it, repli'd the Dane, and hold for certaine truth, that so many strange and incredible accidents happened by the guidance of a spirit, which (without blasphemie) cannot be accus'd of ignorance, neglect, nor injustice. These prodigies are infallibly the presages of some extraordinarie event; but till time shall make them knowne, be pleas'd that I relate what ensued the death of the vertuous Thamiris. A few dayes after Phelismond had rendered her her last dues, he return'd to the King his master, who had nothing whole and sound but his understanding: assoone as he saw the tearme was expir'd which Phelismond desired, he assembled the estates, and causing Phelismond to be crown'd with the consent of all his Peeres, impos'd on him all the markes and all the cares of regall authoritie. The joy he tooke in being disper∣plex'd and unloaden of that glorious and stately slaverie, or rather in satisfying his affe∣ction, by the putting off all soveraigne authoritie, to place himselfe beneath what hee lov'd; retarded the houre of his death, and made him live five or six moneths more then he had done, in such quiet and contentment as hee had never before beene acquainted withall. He imitated those lights which never give so faire a lustre as when they are readie to goe out; for he did in so little a time many actions of courage and justice: he intimated most sensible sorrow for his weaknesse and exactions, and calling to him the chiefe officers of Copenhagen, intreated them to love their new King, as they had done him; and besought their pardon for his defects committed through want of judgement and too much facilitie. Phelismond was so sensibly grieved for the death of so good a master (for he then died) that he found nothing but bitternesse in the beginning of a new authoritie wherein ambitious men finde all height of felicitie. But time that takes away the feeling of sorrowes as well as joyes, restored him to his former temper, and gave him so many severall imployments, that he thought of nothing but how to make himselfe worthie of a dignitie whereof all good Princes acquit themselves with no little difficultie. Assoone as he had any time to himselfe, he bethought him of the Queene his sister, and your Majestie; and giving me in charge his letters, instructions, and pre∣sents, commanded I should doe my utmost to finde you; and at last (if it were possible)

to land in the inchanted Island. I tooke my leave of him, in promising, that I would never returne till I heard newes either of your selfe or Alcidiana; to that end have I been at the Canaries, and receiving no satisfaction there, but that you were away, (if that could be any) I thought good to informe my selfe what was the best course to be held for the Inaccessible Island: those to whom I made that proposition, were ready to laugh at me, and said, that only Chance was the Pilot to that Isle. At last (to free them∣selves from my importunities) they told me what they knew of that inchanted piece of earth, and this is the tenth day that I have wandred up and downe these seas to finde it, and left my ship to the sole guidance of Chance, to see whether it be as good a Pilot as your mariners assured me. After the Dane had thus ended his discourse, Polexander was put into so deep a musing that he remained a long time scarce knowing where he was, at last he came againe from that amorous Lethargie, and many sighes over-passed, I am (said he) the onely man that cannot tread on my misfortune. Zelmatida saw all things arm'd against him, yet the power of Kings, the elements surie, the distance of one world from another, and in briefe, the blindnesse of his Mistresse, have not been preva∣lent enough to barre him from his felicitie. Phelismond hath had impossible designes, yet one way or other he hath brought them to perfection. Bajazet hath o'recome all difficulties which oppos'd his contentment, and in one day seen himselfe King of many Realmes, and the enjoyer of whom he affected. Even my poore Iphidamantus hath met his rest. Onely against me are eternally shut up all wayes which tend to any feli∣citie; O just heaven! O pitifull providence! how long shall I be so wretched as to have no reason to hope for a better fortune? The Dane shew'd well by hi•…•… judicious discourse with Polexander, that Phelismond knew well how to chuse such as he imployed in his affaires; but all that hee could thinke on to quiet, or give any content to our Heroe's minde, serv'd but to surcharge him the more. In the meane time, the day left them, and night augmenting their disquiets, they commanded their mariners to strike saile and lie at hull, left they might lose the Inaccessible Island in the darke, if by chance it might present it selfe to our view. Night had her course as well as day, and retir'd to give the other place: Polexander seeing it breake, made inward vowes to it, and passing even to Idolatrie, which was not criminall, because forc'd, promised the Sun to hold him for his visible Deitie, if he would be propitious to his intentions: but his prayers were too wrongly addressed to have any good successe. That day they made a great deale of way, yet advanc'd his designe no more then if he had stucke still in one place. Night coming on, changed the manner of his impatiencies, and the three dayes insuing, ma∣king the Danes as much out of hope as our Heroe; they resolv'd to returne, and lose no more time in so vain a search. They were even already resolv'd and fitted to take leave of Polexander, when those that were in the scuttle of the ships mast, cri'd out that they saw land, and cast the Prince againe into the same vexations he had at the discoverie of Ti∣siphone's Island. He ran with Phelismond's Confident to the highest part of the decks, and perceiving farre off in the sea somewhat that was cloudie, neither the Dane nor Di∣ceus could possibly get him to turne his eyes from it: at last he certainely perceiv'd it to be an Island, but in the very time that his affection would have had him beleeve it to be that of Alcidiana, his memorie and judgement represented the pleasure he tooke in suf∣fering himselfe to be deceived: neverthelesse, he could not put off so pleasing a defect, and belie his conception, till his eyes inforc'd him to acknowledge his errour. Assoon as he came to an anchor in a roade of the Isle, he caus'd himselfe to be landed with the Dane, and finding there no other then cedars and date-trees, or some more of the like kinde, he returned to his ship more discontented then he was before: yet the same griefe which drew him from the Island made him presently returne againe. He intrea∣ted Phelismond's Embassadour to pardon his extravagancies, and pitie his sad fortune: the Dane who was not so insensible but that he knew the effects of love followed our Heroe; and to divert him, related the extreame discontent Phelismond was throwne in, when he saw himselfe ingag'd by the ill successe of his combate, to renounce all his love to Alcidiana. Polexander the while walked on a great pace, and staid not till he came to a brooke in the midst of a wood which stopp'd his way; by the cleare streame he lay downe, and began to marke its course so wistly, that he forgat for it, not onely the

Dane, but his fortune and himselfe: his melancholy which found its element in that moist and obscure abode, brought on him so sad but so pleasing thoughts, that had he remained long in that case, he might have vaunted how in the extremitie of all his suf∣ferings and displeasures, he had been intertained with incomparable delights and con∣solations. From these musings he was diverted by the Dane, who thinking to oblige him, intreated his returne to the ship, and not to stay longer in a place which did but in∣crease his afflictions. Polexander hearkned to him, and as he went back, he spi'd along by the river a little path, so beaten, that it was easily guessed to be often trodden: a great desire tooke him to finde whither that way tended, and without any cause to be given for that curiositie, so firmely stucke to it, that he intreated the Dane to give him time for it's satisfaction. Scarce had he gone fiftie or threescore paces, but the path was lost amongst a great many great palme-trees, and as he was going on to finde it againe, he heard a kinde of hissing like to that of a Snake. The Dane fearing to meet with one of those prodigious Dragons which he had seen pictur'd in maps of Africa, began to in∣treat our Heroe againe to returne to his ship. But he, who would have beene glad to have met with some monster able to devoute him, flew in amongst the palme-trees, and casting his eyes on all sides to discover whence that noise should come, in lien of a serpent he spi'd at the foot of a palme, an old woman asleep, who being uneasily laid, made that kinde of hissing through the difficultie of her breathing. When he came within ten paces of her she awoke, and had no sooner opened her eyes, but being a∣frighted with the sight of men so neer, she flung up, in shreeking out, and fled in among the palme-trees; Let's follow her, said Polexander to the Dane, and make knowne that we are no hobgoblins. With that he went on, and when he was got farre among the trees, he saw one of a greater bulke by much then all the rest, which▪ (afarre off) seem'd as it had been open; toward it he went, and coming neere, perceiv'd that (in∣deed) there was a cleft large enough for a man to enter into the truncke. Listingly, he put himselfe partly into the tree, and heard a harmonie like to that of a Lute, admi∣rably well finger'd: he call'd the Dane, and letting him heare a very sad Almain, Surely said he, the partie that inhabits the bodie of this tree, is not so savage as the abiding seemes to perswade us. This he spoke aloud, that the person who plai'd on the Lute might heare him and come forth; and it succeeded as he intended. A Lady of eigh∣teene or twentie yeares, faire, as much as a person extreamely afflicted could be, came out of the hollow palm-tree, and looking on our Heroe & the Dane, spoke not to them but with her teares and languishing regards. The Dane conceiv'd presently that he had before time seen that Ladie; and to cleare it, (in his own language) offered her all that he could for her consolation. That faire discontented Ladie had not time to heare the end of his speech, but lifting her eyes and hands to heaven, and asking her selfe oftentimes whether she had well understood the proffers of the Dane; O heaven! cri'd she, he is my countrey-man; I am so indeed repli'd the Dane, and can now glorie of making a voiage farre more happie then I could promise my selfe. Phelismond may have cause enough to envie my fortune, when he understands that the jewell he hath so long sought after by sea and land, is (as it were) of her owne accord come and rendred her selfe into my hands. Ah flatterer! said the Lady, (weeping) strive not by thy pleasants untruths to sweeten the bitternesse of my destinie. Thou knowest what he is, doe not set any false glosse on him, nor augment my shame and sorrow in making me call to minde the man who yet never thought me so much as worthie of his friendship. The Dane desirous absolutely to quiet the minde of that Ladie; If Phelismond (said he) have been so farre insensible as to behold so many allurements, and not be mov'd with them, 'twas Ma∣dam because that part which we call the originall of life and sense was not then at his disposall. Alcidiana had depriv'd him both of his heart and eyes; but now, since she hath restor'd them, he resents the power of your beautie, and admires even your least perfections, if I may be permitted to say, more and lesse, of things which are all alike excellent. In a word (Madam) Phelismond laments and wisheth for you; nay all the favours of the King your father will be but so many torments to him, till he have obtain'd from you a pardon for his fore-passed faults, and see you seated in the Throne of your predecessours. Helismena (for 'twas she) could not give credit to alterations

which seem'd to her beyond all hope; but Polexander, after he had done his comple∣ments and made himselfe knowne, Madam, said he, having been alwayes (as you know) so much at oddes with Phelismond, I beleeve you will not accuse me of flattering or giving him such praises as he deserves not: and this being granted, I hope you will doe me the honour to give credit to what I shall say, and beleeve, (since 'tis truth) that the generous Phelismond hath preferr'd his serving you, before the gift of a Crowne; and having turn'd the love hee bore to Alcidiana into the friendship of a brother, he now hath not onely any more passion but for your beautie, but he cannot give way to be hap∣pie, unlesse he be so with you. Helismena witnessing to Polexander her joy in seeing him, and to heare his words; Though (said she) what hath already passed, cannot pro∣mise me but an unfortunate successe, yet I will suspend my feares, and put off my mistrusts, for feare of offending that veritie which speakes by your mouth. I beleeve, since you say it, that Phelismond hates me not so much as he hath done, but withall I thinke, that being compell'd by your valour to leave to you Alcidiana, he hath at last resolv'd to take such a wife as may establish him in that authoritie, which otherwise he might perhaps not be very well assured of. Polexander, desirous to free Helismena of that imagination, related to her all Phelismond's adventures, and letting her know that Alcidiana was his sister, not onely cur'd her of her jealousie, but dispell'd all other clouds of sorrow. In an instant she pass'd from one extreame to another, and according to the nature of the Northern women, which are full of violent agitations, but of short la∣sting, she thought on nothing but her returne into Denmarke; and with all content to behold him againe, whose sight had been alwayes so deare, though so sad unto her. The Dane then began, and having given the Princesse an account of the cause of his voiage; If your Majestie (said he) will make no longer abide in this Island, I shall be glad to have the honour of conducting you into your kingdom, and will not beleeve I have fail'd my master in ought I owe him, though I put off to another time what I have now in charge, to hasten the contentment he will receive by your returne. Polexander againe addres∣sing him to the Princesse; If (said he) I were not restrain'd by my adverse fortune, I would propose to you a meanes by which your desires and those of Phelismond should be alike satisfied: I would humbly intreate you to charge me with Phelismonds instru∣ctions, and make me you Embassadour to Alcidiana. Helismena approv'd of this ad∣vice, and commanding the Dane to deliver all to Polexander; I desire you withall (said she) to reconcile me to Alcidiana, and after you have made knowne to her the just cause of my wishing her ill, represent the reason I have to love her during my life. Madam, repli'd Polexander, I will acquit my selfe as I ought, (alas! what can I promise) of the charge wherewithall you intrust me. But that I may not faile for want of instruction, be pleas'd ere I goe, fully to informe me of such things whereof I am ignorant; I con∣ceive well said Helismena what you would say, without any further intimation. You would know my follies, and I like them so well that I take pleasure to relate them: you shall heare all Sir, but before I begin, I must needs see what is become of my nurse, that while I intertaine you, she may take leave of these palmes and waters which have preserved our lives. Whilst she spoke, she perceived her nurse among the trees much afrighted; she call'd her, and being setled, told her in few words the change of her for∣tune, and commanded she would make ready for their departure. Whilst the nurse put that injunction in execution, Helismena sate downe with Polexander at the foot of the palme-tree which had served her long time for a palace, and began thus; I need not tell you that Phelismond is a most courteous and gentile man, and by consequence very amiable; you have too long convers'd with him to be ignorant of his qualities: judge then whether it were not very hard for me to be almost continually in the company of so winning a personage, and not be mov'd by him: I was indeed, assoone as I became capable of knowing his merit. For besides his sweet aspect, his brave courage, and his pleasant wit, which were as so many enemies who resolv'd the ruine of my libertie; the King my father's example made me resolute to receive the law of so sweet a conque∣rour. I knew I loved Phelismond by the contentment I tooke in his intertaining me; nowithstanding, I know not what modestie restraining me from declaring my love to him, and besides his owne puritie hindering him from noting it, I liv'd above a yeare

much in love and yet silent: my languishing lookes, my intermitted sighes, and •…•…e eyes wearied with my watchings, and tears spoke to him of it sufficiently. But he (who apprehended nought but what spoke of Alcidiana) as often as those true interpreters of my heart made knowne my love, seem'd to understand nothing of all that they intended. At last I resolv'd to speake my selfe, and finding an occasion in the time of a violent sick∣nesse, caus'd by the excesse of my affection; Phelismond (said I to him, one day when he came to visit me) you grieve for my losse, and yet would you have understood mine eyes and sighes, you might long since have knowne that you are not onely the cause of my sicknesse, but the sicknesse it selfe whereof I die. I have not been lesse sensible then the King my father, and though my feare hath not permitted me to make it known as he hath done, yet assure your selfe, that I have farre more then he resented the imperious charmes by which vertue reignes absolutely over all hearts. I confesse Phelismond I love you, and so much, that for feare of being troublesome to you, I am resolv'd to die. I would have gone on, but my father coming in, I was forc'd to deferre it to any time, and indure the perfecutions of a troupe of ignorant Physitians. Many new diseases they invented, because they would not be silent before the King, and blinde as they were, discern'd not that I was sicke of a disease as old as the world. Phelismond, that was retir'd from me, with a wonderfull astonished countenance, had a great desire (at least if my conjecture be right) to free the King his master from the trouble wherein he saw him. But conceiving he could not draw the King out, without plunging himselfe into the same vexation, hee was pleas'd to say that my malady was a pure effect of a melancholy humour, and that if he would preserve me, he should try by all kinde of diversions to bring me to my former mirthsomnesse. My father who was not able to question whatsoever Phelismond spoke to him, dismissed all the Physitians, and thought that dances, maskes, playes, and other sportive pastimes, were the best remedies which my new physitian prescribed for my reco∣verie. But that new Leech soone repented him of his counsell, for the King imagining that Phelismond would be as able to suppresse my malady, as he had judgement to disco∣ver it; commanded him to be with me as often as he could, and intreating I would cast off that melancholy which might be my ruine, assured me that if I did but contribute some∣what to part of my health, Phelismond's conversation would be able to perfect all the rest: thus he parted, after he had (unwittingly) given me so true counsell. Phelismond (who hath ever kept that respect to his Master, as not to abuse his favour) staid at my beds-head to shew his obedience; and being excellent at the relation of stories, was wil∣ling to begin one that might divert me, and withall relate his fortune; but presently I perceiv'd how violently he forc'd himselfe to it, and therefore touched with his con∣straint, I stopp'd him at the very first, to let him know the excesse of my love by that of my compassion: Doe not (said I) Phelismond force your selfe any more; your concent is too deare to me to sacrifice it to my peace; I had rather die then to redeeme my self from the grave with the losse of your happinesse; leave then when you please the miserable He∣lismena, and seare not that either to be revenged or to be cured, she will ever complaine of your crueltie; death is most deare to her, since she is permitted to tell you, that for you she dies. Phelismond unable to resist his sweet nature, nor the pity I wrought in him, shed a torrent of teares before me, call'd himselfe a hundred times ufortunate; lastly, cast himselfe on his knees, and speaking to me with a freedome which gave me some satis∣faction: Madam (said he) if I may expect from your Highnesse a favour which I deserve not, be pleas'd I may discover my thoughts to you, and that without coloring, either with feare or respect, or any other specious falsities, the refusall I am bound to make of your love; I may say to you, that being absolutely anothers, I cannot be yours; that Queene whose picture hath ravished all the Court, possesseth what you desire of me, and I should be a traitor, if I promised you an affection which is not in my power to give you. I confesse my ingagements to the King your father, and your incomparable vertues, should plucke out of my soule this stranger passion, and forcing my inclination, make me finde my pleasure in my dutie and what concernes me: but Madam, what opinion would you have of a man that should be capable of so great an infidelity? and what can your High∣nesse expect from a heart so remisse and weake as to accommodate his love with his for∣tune;

or faithlesse enough to conceive as many desires, as there are objects worthie to be coveted? Give me leave then, Madam, to repeate what I lately said, and make a prote∣station which shall be just, though it may seeme insolent, and 'tis, that Alcidiana shall be the sole object of my love; and that I will sooner die as many times (if it be possible) as your lawfull indignation can make you wish it, rather then I will infranchise my selfe from the glorious servitude wherein my inclination and Alcidiana's vertues have so sweetly inthrall'd me. When Phelismond had done, I was so ravished at his constancie and generousnesse, that it was not in my power either to condemne his resolution, or to complaine of the contempt he made of my affection: on the contrary, I approv'd of them both, and seeing that Prince at my feet which seem'd to confesse himselfe guiltie, and ask'd me pardon for his offence; Love Alcidiana (said I) since heaven will have it so; and because 'tis there decree'd too, permit Helismena to love you. Phelismond a∣rose from before my bed-side so pusled, and divided betweene his love and mine, that I doubt not but in himselfe he thought him very unhappie that he could not absolutely become at my disposall and solely mine. This inabilitie was the cause of my recoverie, for I tooke comfort in my misfortune, by knowing that the author of it was no lesse afflicted for it then my selfe; and I thought that in his intimation of his impossibilitie of loving me, he made knowne to me a new kinde of love, whereof till then I was alto∣gether ignorant. Assoone as I had recovered my strength, and was permitted to leave my chamber, I appear'd in Court with that same cheerfulnesse which had before time got me the name of the delight of Denmarke: for all that, I was secretly fed on by my passion, but I conceal'd it very warily, for feare lest Phelismond should be thereby anew discontented; and though there scarse passed a day wherein I spent not at least two houres in bewailing with teares (apart) the misfortunes of my life, yet in publike I ap∣peared so pleasant, that Phelismond himselfe was deceiv'd a•…•… it, and beleev'd, time had absolutely cured me. To that extremitie was I brought when you came to fight with Phelismond: his defeature mightily afflicted me, and but for his consideration which retained me, I had wrought my father's choler to higher violence then it ran then. It may be you are yet ignorant of the person who wonne him to violate the faith he had given you, and made him so wilfully bent to your ruine: I would have you know (Po∣lexander) that my desire to revenge the affront you had done my love, mademe imploy all my credit and power for your destruction. The King who hath alwayes beene a great observer of his word, was a very long time before he would hearken to the rea∣sons I alledged against you; but I so pli'd him on all sides, and gave him so many seve∣rall assaults, that he was forc'd to yeeld: hereupon your death was resolv'd on, but when I understood that Phelismond grew inraged at your ill treatment, and had therefore pluck'd off all that which had been appli'd to his wounds, of purpose to undoe himselfe; my desire to preserve him kept me from perfecting your ruine. I dexterously therefore put a new face on all businesse, and had lesse trouble to obtaine your pardon from the King my father, then I had in getting him to signe a warrant for your death. When I was inform'd that Phelismond affected you, I slack'd my hatred, and turned all my choler on Alcidiana; No (said I to my self) I will never indure that any poore pettie Princesse, who for all her Territories hath but a little shelfe or rocke, knowne only by the shipwracke of some unfortunate mariners, should be so overweening as to esteeme of the most excellent of men, no otherwise then as of one incivilis'd, and unworthy ei∣ther to breathe or to serve her. Presumptuous Alcidiana (said I, as if she had beene present) thy insolence will ruine thee; and if Phelismond be so farre bewitched by thy charmes as to persevere in his dishonour and Idolatrie, I shall have heart enough to carrie me even to thy inchanted Island, to scratch off that vaine beautie which makes thee insupportable to all the world. Many other injuries did I to your Mistresse, and meditated many extraordinarie avengements; but ere they were to be put in executi∣on, I desired to see how Phelismond stood, after so many trialls of Alcidiana's aversion. The next day after your departure I went to visit him, and finding he was (though in his bed) lesse distemper'd by his wounds then by the disdaines of ingratefull Alcidiana; Shall it (said I, after some words of civilitie) be published to the world, that you are in∣sensible

of all affronts, out-rages, hatred, and all contempt? Shall that great courage which sees under it all whatsoever is most elevated among the fortune of Kings, belie it selfe in so eminent an occasion, and sticke senselesse on so urgent affronts, whereof co∣wardise it selfe would have much a doe to be insensible? As long as I thought your af∣fection was just, though averse to me, I wished rather to be unhappie then to condemne it; but now, since it is not onely a scandall to your selfe but to all those that love you, I cannot (for your reputation sake, and satisfaction of your friends) but find fault with your unreasonable perseverance. Phelismond turning his eyes on me swolne with teares, If (said he) this unfortunate man hath truely any part in your favour, and if that miraculous affection which you have shewed him be not as yet extinguished, resume (if you please) those generous thoughts which it inspired you withall: bewaile my de∣stinie, and indammage not that person who merits it least of all men living. 'Tis true Madam, that Alcidiana doth but contemne, nay hate me, and to free her selfe from my presumptuous desires, she hath set my head at a value, and design'd my death as the high∣est marke of love and fidelitie which she can expect from her admirers. But since 'tis the will of my sad Fate to make me of that number, should I not looke on Phelismond as on a monster whom the Sunne should no more shine on; and to testifie fully the obeisance which I render to all Alcidiana's commands, to account him mine enemie, whom she deemes unworthie of her favour? This extreame constancie of Phelismond (said Helismena) confirm'd mine owne, and made me avow, that he who knew how to love so truely, could not be too much beloved. Yet was I above three moneths con∣tinually urging him to retort Alcidiana's neglect with as great a slighting, and at last to give over the imploring of a Power, who was so farre off from assisting him, as she glo∣ried in rejecting his invocations. I confesse yet, that sometimes when I thought on Phelismond's wonderfull love, I chid my selfe for so obstinately tempting a minde so persevering, and reprov'd that malice wherewithall I strove to corrupt the vertue of him I lov'd. No, (said I) at last, I will not adde to Phelismond's miseries; but since I truly love him, scorne to imitate the example of her that hates him: My solicitings are but as weapons which I lend to that proud cruell one; I follow (ere I am aware) her mercilesse humour, and as if I had undertaken to please her, would compell Phelismond to do what she desireth. Rather (Helismena) give eare to thy ingenious and just anger; make Phelismond to continue in his doating on Alcidiana, since she enrageth to know that she is beloved; and (to be avenged in a way which may be was never imagined) suffer him whom she despiseth to sue to her eternally. But sillie creature that I am! I perceive not, that in meditating this revenge, I doe my selfe farre more wrong then I could doe with it; and that if Phelismond continue his love to Alcidiana, I make my selfe truely miserable for no other end, but that she might onely seeme to be so. Avenge thy selfe more really, Helismena, and hazard not that small portion of life which is left thee, but in doing an act worthie thy just anger; let thy choler furrow up and make a way to that Island whereto none can arrive, and forcing from the world that insolent Rivall who indeed triumphs more over thee then Phelismond, subvert those obstacles which fortune makes use of to crosse thy contentment. Doe not thinke, Polexander, that these resolutions were of the number of those which are ordinarily in our sex; I meane, such as last no longer time then there was to conceive them: my indignation turn'd not into wind with my words, but I stucke constant to the execution of what I had delibe∣rated, and to trample on all difficulties in the undertaking it. To that end, my nurse and my selfe stole from my fathers Court, by the help of a Captaine of a ship, who thought himselfe wonderfull happie to be ruin'd in my service; and with a companie of glee∣some young people, and resolute, we left Copen-hagen; and at two moneths end, lan∣ded on the first of the Azores. From thence we sail'd as if we had stood for the Cana∣ries, because our Pilot assured us that the Inaccessible Island lay betweene the Terceras and the great Canarie. I besought the Pilot to doe some wonder of his art in the find∣ing out that cursed abode, but the Devils into whose protection the sorcerers have com∣mitted that piece of earth, were offended with his too exceeding skill; and that they might not receive such an affront as to see their power mastered by that of a man, they

called together all the Northerne windes with the Southerne thunder, and brake my vessell to shiv•…•…s against the rockes of this Island. All those which strove to save them∣selves were lost; my nurse and my selfe, who alone had neither will nor abilitie, were throwne on shore by the same waves which had drowned our conductors. I will not tell you how long. I have been in this place, for if I would beleeve mine owne ac∣count, I should say I had been whole ages here. This, Polexander, is the instruction you would have from me, to make you my Embassadour to Alcidiana. I perswade my selfe you like this imployment the rather, because the businesse will be of reconciling us, and causing all jealousie and hatred to give place to love and alliance. After shee had thus ended, she gave way for Polexander to use his Rhetoricke. He gave her thanks for the honour'd Embassie whereof she thought him worthie, and intreated her not onely to blot out of her memorie, all wrong imaginations which jealousie had there figur'd, but to permit truth to represent to her, Alcidiana with all her charmes and perfections. Your desires are already accomplished (repli'd Helismena,) I see Alcidiana as faire and alluring as she is; but you can scarce beleeve it, for lovers cannot perswade themselves that any others are so cleere-sighted to take notice of all the graces in their Mistresses. As she had said thus, the Dane came to them, and told her she might depart when she pleas'd: the Princesse loath to deferre a moment, saluted Polexander; and for a last farewell, Brother (said she) I wish your happinesse may betide you in the same instant with mine; and that the name I give you may be a certaine presage of it. Polexander repli'd, that he was borne too unfortunate to have so much as the thought of so great a felicitie, and so brought her to her ship. There he ended his last complements, and de∣livering to the Dane the letters he had written to his Master, went not from him till he had made him know the greatnesse of his liberalitie. Assoone as he was come back to his owne ship, he began to reflect anew on his misfortune, and confirming himselfe in the opinion he had of his destinie; Assuredly (said he) heaven is drawne dry of all good chance that it kept in store for mankinde; there is nothing left but miseries and languishments, and to see how plentifully they are showr'd on me, with good reason I may beleeve they were all reserv'd for me. From that he fell into a deep musing, and when he was got out of it, he had quite lost sight of Helismena's ship. Presently he commanded to weigh anchor, and putting to sea againe, ignorant of what course hee should steere, spent neere fifteene dayes more bootlesly in searching for that Island, which truely too rightfully merited the title of Inaccessible and Inchanted. The calme which had been so farre obsequious to our Lover's passion, now seem'd to be angrie at its inutilitie, and gave way to a furious tempest: eight dayes together the Prince's ves∣sell was driven up and downe the immense vasts of the Ocean, and sometimes from hell carried up to heaven, and straight from heaven to hell againe; the masts were all shat∣tered, the saile-yards broken, the sailes all torne, the rudder stricken off, and they might say, that the storme like an insolent conquerour would triumph o're that miserable ship in all parts of her. The Pilot depriv'd of what he was to guide withall, began to de∣plore the wretch'd estate of those of his condition; and the mariners being cleane tired with blaspheming, betooke them to their beads, and began to cast their eyes to heaven, against which they had but newly vomited so many injuries. Those which were not yet wearie of living, made vowes to all their Countrey's Saints; and others which were resolv'd to die, fell with a true contrition at their Confessor's feet, and in hope of a se∣cond life, comforted themselves for the losse of the first. Some holding up their hands to that succour which they saw not, giddied themselves with their extreame noise and crying; and others having not courage enough to looke death in the face, hid them in the hold of the ship. In the meane time the tempest inraged to be so long time con∣testing with a few broken plankes, and the waves perfecting what they had to doe, tore the ship open at the poope; presently the sea all white with foame, and as proud of the victorie, rush'd in at the breach, got the deckes one after another, and so fill'd her, that on the sudden they perceived her sinking. In that extremitie every one caught hold of what he could, and at one instant did two differing things, despair'd of their safetie, and yet sought all meanes to secure themselves. Polexander, by chance meeting with a

broken mast of the ship which floated by him, got on it, and with an incredible constan∣cy expected, when the storme should deprive him of that last refuge. After he had sate a while on it, turning his head, he perceiv'd Diceus at the end, which so overjoy'd him, that he conceiv'd not he was in any danger at all. Be not astonished (said the Prince to him) but waite for the resolution of Heaven in its disposall of us without despaire. The noise of the waves was too high to suffer Diceus to understand his Masters words; be∣sides the terrour had so much depriv'd him of the use of the best of part of his senses, that he scarce knew whether he were alive or dead. As the Sunne was ready to goe downe, Polexander descri'd somewhat before him that seem'd white among the greennesse of the waves: Take heart, (cri'd he to his servant) be of courage Diceus, I either see a rocke or a vessell; the winde drives us to it, and if feare kills thee not, my life for thine. He had no sooner spoken, but he found himselfe very neere to what he had discovered, and found it to be a great shelve of rockes inviron'd with the sea: many a time had it been the ter∣rour and losse of many a mariner, but was then the hope and safety of Polexander. The Prince being driven neere to it, thought that if he quitted not his, mast before the surges threw him against the rockes, he or Diceus (without doubt) ran a hazard to be crush'd in pieces among a great many other small ones which appear'd close by the water: hee call'd therefore to his servant to follow him, and presently betooke himselfe to swim∣ming. Diceus recollecting his wits and strength, obeyed his Master, and after some hundred or more stretches or fathomes, overtooke him: 'twas most happie for him to be able to doe so much, for in the very instant when he came up neere to Polexander, his strength and heart failed him. Our Heroe seeing him sinking, swome to him, and shew∣ing how dearly he esteemed the life of that trusty servant, hazarded his own to save him. He tooke him by one arme, and swimming with a great deale of trouble and pain, got be∣hinde the rocke. Assoone as he got footing, he drew him on the sand, and made him resume his spirits; when Diceus with scattered looking on his Master, would have ask'd him where he was, but Polexander preventing him, Friend (said he) we are safe, if to be so, we need nothing but to be freed from the furie of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sea: we must indure yet, and let us suffer with a good heart, since heaven hath not permitted us to finde a grave where so many hath met with theirs. Thou mayest tell me Diceus that 'twas our own faults; but we had then violated the most inviolable lawes of nature, and that providence which reserves us to some other end, would have punished us as selfe-murderers, if we had neg∣lected the meanes of our safety, which its all powerfull hand miraculously offered us. Here he stop'd, and going along the side of a little creek which was hidden in the bosome of the rocke, he found a staire cut like a screw into the maine stone, by which one might ascend the top: up he trod it all musing, and when he was at the highest, he found a little cave. Presently he call'd for Diceus, and entering the grot, he saw two beds of mosse so neatly made, that he could not imagine them to be the simple worke of nature: on the foremost he sate downe, and Diceus on the other; night as well as their former paines in∣viting them to rest, they unclad themselves to dry their garments, and finding the temper of the climate excessive hot, they slept without feare of any cold taking. Polexander's sleep was not long, the night which grew very cold, and his disquiets, awakened him; he clad himselfe without making any noise, that his servant might take the better rest, and walking out, began to meditate on the woefull estate of his fortune. After he had ended this sad meditation, he cast his eyes on the Moone, and besought her (if she could) to number up all his miseries, and to relate them to Alcidiana. At last it grew day, and the winds ceasing with the night, a generall calme ensued in both Elements, which were the subject of their violence. Our Heroe then left the place where hee stood so long musing, and getting to the highest part of the rocke de∣scri'd some land, but it seem'd so farre off, that hee despair'd of his getting thither by swimming, and by consequence beleeved, that hunger would effect what the tempest had deni'd him. Hee (after his resolve to undergoe that mise∣rable end) descended to the cave: at the entrance he cast his eyes on the portall and per∣ceived some Letters graven in the stone, his curiosity won him to read what it was, and with an extreame astonishment found that which followes:

'Twas against this Rocke (after the to be lamented end of the great Polexander) that Amintha and Alcippus (who would live no longer) were cast by a tempest. O yee! who hereafter by the chance of the Sea may hap to be thrown on these shelves; know, That the invincible Monarch of the Canaries, is no more: and that the Traytor Astramadan, (who un∣able to vanquish him in an equall Combate) caused him to be murdered by a base whole Nation that were enemies to his and all eminent vertues.

After Polexander had read this Inscription so loud that Diceus might heare him, it made him wonder no lesse then himselfe; they therefore verily thought that Alcippus was dead on that rocke, and Amintha swallowed up by the sea. With which imagi∣nation, Polexander was so inly touched, that the teares came into his eyes, and witnes∣sing the griefe he rooke for the losse of two so worthie to be beloved; Eternall Provi∣dence (cri'd he) what horrible crimes have I committed, that for their expiation I should run through all the torments that can make a life miserable? Wilt thou not have me perish till such time as I have lost all that I love; and die in the person of all my friends, before I die in my selfe •…•…et Heaven, I murmure not, doe as thou list: I am prepar'd to indure all, and will ever respect that just and dreadfull Power from whence the thunder must come which will turne me to ashes. These pious thoughts gave way to those of love; neere all the day he spent in meditating on Alcidiana; and talking to her as he had been in her presence, neither remembred his late shipwracke, nor the fear∣full death which in all likelihood was inevitable to him. But Diceus in the meane time, who thought on the preservation of his Master, was gone down to the sea-side to trie if he could get thence any thing that might keep them from starving. Amongst a great deale of caskes, pipes, and fardels which floated about the rocke, by good hap, a vessell of pure water, and a barrell of bisquet were fortunately driven so neere to Diceus, that he tooke hold and drow them to him. Assoone as he had rolled them on the sand, he went and made it knowne to his Master, and (against his will) wonne him to goe downe to the beach, to make use of that which was sent by the particular care of the Power that would preserve him. After he was descended, our Heroe (unwilling to thwart himself in the reliefe that was presented) steep'd some of the bisquet in the wa∣ter, and gave himselfe some nurriture, being almost quelled with his former toile, and a fast of neer fortie hours. A little after, the night came on, and hee ascended againe with Diceus into his cave; and rather to intertaine his disquiets then to take any rest, threw himself on his bed of mosse: some four or five hours after he had lain down, he thought he hard some body talke neere him; and therefore call'd Diceus, and ask'd whether he dreamt or wanted any thing. He repli'd, that he neither talk'd in his sleep nor needed ought, but that he was much deceiv'd if he heard not some body speake about the entry into the cave: he had no sooner said so, but an apparition all blacke from head to feet came in, with a branch of a tree which burnt as a torch of wax. Polexander rais'd his head, and ask'd what it fought, but the phantasme in lieu of replying gave a fearfull shreike, and went out of the cave: Diceus seeing it goe away so quickly, thought cer∣tainly it was a Devill; and with that beliefe was almost dead for feare, when he saw it enter againe with five or six more as frightfull and horrid. Polexander could not chuse

but laugh at his servants feare; but hee was not too well setled himselfe when hee saw those phantasmes, come neere to his bed, and that some of them extending their armes towards him, and others taking him by the hands, seem'd to wi•…•… him to follow them, After he had indor'd a long time with patience those Demons caresses, he grew wearie of them, and ask'd them againe and againe what they would have of him. They repli'd, hut 'twas in such a manner, that our Heroe could understand nothing by their howlings, (for we must say s•…•…, and not by their discourse.) They themselves thought too that they were not understood, and would therefore exprosse themselves by signes; but their signes were more difficult to be comprehended then their former language. Hereupon, Polexander arose, and commanded Diccu•…•… not to forsake him, Come (said he) let's see whither these Devills will lead us; presently he went out of the grot, and the phantasms dancing about him, and whistling aloud in putting one finger in their mouthes, brought him streight downe to a barque which rid at the foot of the rocke. Diceus, who could not imagine any other thing but that he was arri•…•…'d at that dreadfull place, where his nurse had related to him the Devils turned ferrie-men, and was•…•…ed soules over into hell; thought that his Master and himselfe were now to be carried thither both bodie and soule together. But Polexander, who had no such ridiculous imaginations, perceiv'd his mistake, and thought that those whom he had taken for spi•…•…its, were of those blacke people which inhabite under the Torrid Zone. It was true indeed, for after six or se∣ven houres sailing, those Negroes landed in a countrey where the aire was so hot, and the sands so burning, that Polexander and his servant almost, thought they walk'd on kindled char-coales, and were forc'd to. suffer themselves to be guided with their eyes shut. At last they came into a place as delight some as the others which they had passed were insupportable: 'twas a wood of palme-trees, cedar•…•…, and wilde olives, so high and thicke, that they kept a great extent osiland from the Sunne's ardor: they wer•…•… wate∣red with many little tills issuing from •…•…e source; within it was there a house of stone built in the midst of many others, and a Temple at one end, whose stately and sumptu∣ous structure made it appeare, that the inhabitants of that place had surmounted their miserie and barbarisme, that they might not lodge in a poore hovell of straw and durt, a Deitie whom they beleev'd to be the absolute Lord of heaven and earth. Assoon as ever Polexander's Convoy appear'd with him, a great companie of men, women and children, as blacke as the former inviron'd them; and every one striving to touch the Prince, they crown'd him with chaplets of palme, and in that manner brought him into the house which exalted it selfe above all the rest. When he came in, he found it not so rich as on the out-side; there was neither marble, not gilded seelings, nor rich ta∣pestries: all the ornament of the halls consisted in mats of palm, in some seats of wood, and certain hangings made of discoloured rushes; where there hung bowes, quivers full of arrowe•…•…, half-pikes without iron heads, and steele bucklers, with prettie handsome swords. After he had gone through three halls, one after another, hee came into a chamber, and in one of the corners, saw lying on a very low bed, a man which seem'd to be blinde; by the Negros demeanure, our Heroe conceiv'd he was their Prince, for one of them kneeling downe, spoke to him a while, and whilst he did so, held his eyes still on the earth. No sooner had he ended his discourse, but the blinde Prince lifting towards heaven, his eyes incapable of light, called Polexander to him, and imbracing him, bedew'd his cheekes with his teares. After this sad reception, he spoke to him much, but our Heroe understanding nought of his language, knew not to whom he should addresse himselfe to learne who had spoken to that Prince of any thing which concerned him, or what he expected from his owne person. Whilst he stood thus per∣plex'd, there was a piece of mat lifted up, and instantly appeared some fifteen or twen∣ty women blacke as the men, and amongst them some that were of admirable feature, who all with stretch'd out armes to our Heroe, and teares, besought him to take pitie on their miseries. But he, unweeting how to answer their petitions, or not knowing what to doe in lessening their afflictions, thought of pointing them up to heaven, and striking himselfe on the breast afterwards; as if he would say, that by its assistance, he would quit them of all their troubles. In seeing these signes, all of both sexes, and all at once, gave an acclamation, and hurrying together to the blinde man's bed, seem'd to assure

him of something of great importance. When this was ended, they conducted our Heroe to the Temple, and causing him to be an assistant to as fantasticall and odde sa∣crifices, as were the spirits of the Priests; he was left with the chiefe of them, who was not so blacke as the rest. That man, affecting the impertinent gravitie of those of his profession, and intimating by his scatter'd and afrighting lookes that he had some strange chimera's in his braine, strove to speake Arabicke to make himselfe be under∣stood. But if Polexander had not divin'd the greatest part of his speech, he had beene no better instructed by the Pastour then he had been by his sheep: all that he could ga∣ther from that strange gibbrish, was, that he was arriv'd in a Province of the kingdome of Galatia, and that the blinde man whom he had seen was Prince of it; but being un∣justly set on by the ambitious King of Thombut, he had lost his estate, his sonnes, and the chiefe of his subjects, and been constrain'd to fly to the desarts, to avoid the furie of his enemie, and preserve the chastitie of his daughters. That ever since his exile, his eyes had not beene without teares, and with too much weeping he had lost his sight: that every day some of his subjects gave him intelligence that the tyrant of Thombut was levying a puissant Armie to perfect his destruction, and that within a short time he would come and plucke both his wife and daughters out of his armes. Polexander, after he decyphered thus much, was desirous to learne more, and intreated the Priest to tell him, by what meanes they knew on what place the tempest had cast him, and what they pretended of his assistance. The Priest repli'd, that the Sunne, father of the blinde Prince, and the Deitie of all Galatia, had appear'd in his dreame to his sorrowfull sonne, and (after his assuring him that he should yet see his beames againe, and be avenged of the tyrant of Thombut) enjoyned him to send every moneth to the Hermit's rock, till such time as they found in the holy Cave, two men of a strange colour and language. After the chiefe Priest had related the blinde Prince's dreame, he brought Polexander into the most private place of the Temple, and drew from under the Altar a table of brasse, on which in Arabick characters was written a Prophefie, which Polexander read and found it thus.

WHen the Scepter of Galatiashall be forced out of the hands of Abrim Esseron's true Successour, and that the misfortunes of the State shall be lincked with those which are particular to the Royall Families; the Sunne our father shall be compell'd whether he will or no, to denie his light to the dearest of his chil∣dren. But the tears and pietie of that good King shall at last touch that incom∣prehensible Power, which hides it selfe in the rayes of that great light. From thence, shall be sent into the world a Prince, that shall be succourer and Prote∣ctour generall of all such as are afflicted, and he shall be made to wander in divers parts of the world, to the end, that many afflicted soules may by his assistance, be delivered from their miseries. The unfortunate King of Galatia shall have his share in that universall happinesse, if he be so prudent as not to neglect it. The Rocke which shall become famous by the miracles of a holy Hermit, is to be the place where the blinde Prince shall finde (with the fight which he hath lost) that invincible arm which shall subdue his enemies.

Though Polexander could not contradict the verities contain'd in the Prophesie with∣out denying those things which himselfe had either done or suffered; yet he could not imagine, that he was either the Prince whose birth was so certainely foretold, or that his actions merited the honour they received by such extraordinary wayes: yet conside∣ring that heaven makes use of the meanest creatures whereby to operate the greatest wonders, he humbled himselfe; and by the doubt of his abilitie, made him more wor∣thy then he was of those imployments which were reserv'd for his courage. Scarce had he ended his acknowledgement, when divers clamours arose in all parts of the wood, and a little after, a great number of women and children hurrying on the necke of one another into the Temple, made the Arch-priest beleeve, that either the blinde Prince was dead, or his enemies were come to assaile him. Presently our Heroe made out of the Temple, and with the Priest ran to the Kings lodgings: there he understood how

the troupes of the tyrant of Thombut were got into the wood, and that they had either slaine or put to flight all those that oppos'd their entrie. He heartned the blinde Prince and his timorous Court, and putting himselfe in the front of three or foure hundred archers, made signes to them that they should go on courageously and repulse their ene∣mies. The Princesses who had now no other sanctuarie then his valour, brought him part of such armes as he needed; one of them presented him with a sword and target, another caus'd a very brave horse to be brought him, and all falling at his feet, besought him to have compassion on their misfortunes, and not abandon their honours to the in∣famous prosecution of the tyrant of Thombut. Polexander, overjoyed that he had got∣ten wherewithall to resist the enemie, and so piously exercise his courage, went to meet the Thombutians, and surprising them as they were scattered, either to pillage the Ga∣latians, or to murder them, charg'd them so furiously that they were all routed, and after, so followed through the deserts, that not one was left to carrie newes of their de∣feate to the King of Thombut. Polexander return'd from the fight, or to say better, from the chase, without the losse of any one that followed him, and entering the Kings lodgings, found him at his devotions with the Chiefe Priest, and the Princesses his daughters. He made known to him by the Priest, that his enemies were retir'd, and that they seem'd by their little resistance, they had no great minde to drive him from the place where he was. His modestie would not permit him to say more; but his souldi∣ers being dispers'd through the palace, so highly extoll'd his valour which had over∣throwne their enemies, that they made him be esteem'd for the Deitie whom they ado∣red. The women and children seeing their husbands and fathers safely return'd, cast themselves on the earth, to render thankes to our Heroe, and invocating him in their private necessities, besought the continuation of his miracles among them. The good King of Galatia let himselfe slip into that opinion, and as there is no errour which so easily infecteth all humane mindes then that which leades us to the adoration of such as have redeemed us from our miseries; he thought he could not without impietie, denie divine honour to such a one as did the actions of a Deitie. This thought so rais'd his abated courage, that in the very instant he left his bed, and lea•…•…ing on two of his daugh∣ters, was led to the Temple to give thankes to heaven for Polexander's victorie. Our Heroe admiring the zeale which that afflicted Prince made shew of to a Power, of which he had scarce any knowledge, resolved to instruct him ere he went thence; and in the meane time told him by his Priest, that he should goe on in his pietie, and pro∣mise to himselfe from that Deitie which he invoak'd with so much fervour not onely all the greatnesses and goods he had lost, but all that his imagination could represent unto him. After these promises, he desired instantly to prosecute the execution of such as depended on him, and to performe them effectually, intended to sallie out of the de∣serts with five or six thousand Galatiaus, and charge in all parts of the countrey on the troupes of the tyrant of Thombut. The blinde Prince who certainly beleev'd that Po∣lexander was sent from heaven to establish him in his throne, approved of his resolution, and all those whom love and dutie had obliged to follow the fortune of their King, pre∣pared them to that warre with all the courage and cheerfulnesse which loyall and affe∣ctionate subjects could testifie in defence of their Prince. Our Heroe drew them forth from their abodes, made them traverse the deserts, entered into Galutia, and in eight dayes gave two little battles, perfected three sieges, out the throats of most part of the garrisons, and drove the rest farre into the territories of Thombut. Those that know not the Provinces I write of, will beleeve I mean to make Polexander passe for an A•…•…a∣dis, or some other inchanted Knight, in making him conquer a Kingdom in eight dayes; but when he shall understand that all the Kingdom of Galatia consists but in three great Bourghs, and some twentie or thirtie Hamlets, they will alter their cause of upbrai∣ding me, and accuse me for so ill husbanding our Heroe's time, in making him lose so much in an enterprise of so little importance. Yet let their second accusation•…•… be silenc'd as well as the former, since 'tis true, that the King of Thombut's souldiers having notice of our Heroe's coming, not onely came to meet him with a true warlike resolution, but intrenched themselves in the villages, after they had been beaten in the field, and dispu∣ted with the Galatians for the least of their Hamlets. There fell above foure thousand

in the fights and sieges, and the rest (as I said) being forc'd to save themselves in the an∣cient territorie of the King of Thombut, strucke the inhabitants with such a terrour, that if Polexander had intended to assaile them, without doubt he had conquered them all. But he thought it not to belong to the King of Galatia, nor for the good of his affaires, and therefore contented himselfe with the regaining of that which had beene unjustly usurped. He therefore returned, and brought him out of his sanctuarie, and conducting him to the great towne that beares the name of the kingdome, re-establish∣ed him very solemnly in the ancient throne of his fathers. Some few dayes after came to him the King of Thombut's Embassadours, and after their congratulating his return, told him, that the King their Master had specially sent them, to intreat an abolition of things passed, and impute all which seem'd contrary to his promises and their ancient al∣liance, to the iniquitie of the times. To this they added, that if the blinde Prince in∣tended to preserve the peace, and make his peoples tranquillitie lasting, he should hear∣ken to some alliance, whereby the Crownes of Galatia and Thombut being united, their interests might be common, and their affections reciprocall. The King of Galatia deceived by these faire propositions, yeelded to all that the tyrant of Thombut desired from him; and told his Embassadours, that he not onely left to their Master the choice of foure daughters he had, but also from thence forward, would live with him as with his sonne or brother; provided that he restored to him the two Princes his sons, whom he had detained prisoners since the beginning of the warre. The Embassadours dis∣patched letters to their Master, •…•…and had quickly their answer: in them he granted to the King of Galatia more then he desired, and demanded his second daughter, who was as courageous as the lions among whom she had been bred. The marriage concluded on, the Embassadours returned to Thombut, and within a while after, others came with a great equipage, who solemnely espoused the Princesse of Galatia. Her father, who was a good man, but as weake and blinde in spirit as in body, intreated Polexander to be the new Queenes conductor to Thombut, and to procure from the prison of the King her husband, the two Princes of Galatia. Polexander, who sought for nothing more then an occasion to abandon Africke, that he might get him another ship, wherein he might put forth again for the discoverie of that inchanted Island, which he could not attaine to, easily condescended to the Kings request: but having seriously pondered on the proceedings of the King of Thombut, he wished the good blind Prince that before he let his daughter depart from him, to presse the re-deliverie of the Prin∣ces of Galatia; and secure the life of the one by the libertie of the others. Ah Sir! repli'd the poore King, (by his Priest) my children will be dead if I intimate the least suspition of that Kings faith; he is of a spirit haughtie and cruell, who would have all men come under his lee, and to satisfie his ambition spares not the very lives of his own children. It may be (repli'd Polexander) his pride may be a little abated, and the fear of falling into your hands, may hinder him from attempting any thing against the lives of your sonnes. The chiefe Priest was of our Heroe's opinion, but speaking (onely) as his Masters Interpreter, he besought Polexander, by mildnesse to worke into that bar∣barous Prince, and doe a new miracle in the deliverie of the captive Princes. Polexan∣der knowing the weaknesse of that poore King, would not disquiet him any more; he therefore with tears took leave of him, & after twelve dayes journey, came to the great Court of Thombut with the Princesse of Galatia. The tyrant gave him such intertain∣ment as was able to assure a mind the most mistrustfull, and after he had often told him that he would have bought his company with the losse of many kingdoms, besought him (in imbraces) to love Thombut as much as he had done Galatia. Polexander repli'd to these false-hearted pratlings, after his wonted freedome; but he was in a place where 'twas a hainous offence to speake freely, and he was besides so suspected, that had he been so poore spirited as to have soothed with tyrannie, yet had he felt its crueltie. The King of Thombut among his other qualities, having perfectly the art of dissimulation, con∣cealed all his vices, to make the better use of them when there was occasion: he coun∣terfeited the courteous, the humble, and the pitifull man; and speaking of the blinde King's afflictions, was so treacherous as to let fall some teares at their relation. If he had so much command over himselfe to deceive Polexander, he had no lesse to beguile

the Princesse of Galatia. Some few dayes after her arrivall, she was solemnely conducted to the great Temple of Thombut, and from thence to the hall appointed and prepared for her nuptiall solemnities Polexander was engaged to be at that assembly, and as if his good aspect and presence had a design to avenge that Innocence which the tyrant had too much oppressed, it touched to the heart, and corrupted (if I may dare say so) the innocency of his two daughters. They were twins, and might have passed for very amiable persona∣ges, if that eternall which dwelt on their faces had not hidden their chiefest beauties, be∣sides they were the sole creatures whom the tyrant durst trust, for he having filled with bloud all the best houses of his kingdome, imagined that he had as many enemies as sub∣jects. He slept not but under their guard & their watchings; and (as 'tis related of an old ty∣rant of Sicily) he would not have any assistance in all his necessities but from from those miserable Princesses. They had not seene Polexander before their father's mariage day, since they were still confin'd, and never had the liberty to converse either with subject or stranger: they had no sooner cast their eyes on the Prince (who since his brother's death might well vaunt himselfe to be the fairest of •…•…ll men) but they lost their simplicity, or to say better, the insensibility, in which their father had nourished them. They had no sooner that first touch, but they fell in love, and no sooner fell in love, but they began to be witty: they studied their gestures and their countenances, and I know not what secret motion speaking inwardly, assured them that 'twas as much as their life was worth if their father came to the knowledge of their affection. This within advertisement made them turne away their eyes from that deare object, which they could not sufficiently gaze on, impos'd them silence at their first intertaining one another; smothered their sighes in the place of their conception, and even made them begin to feele how insupportable was their father's tyranny. He in the meane time, that had farre differing thoughts from those of his daughters, rejoyced in himselfe that he was got to the day of his revenge, and growne able in one same time to exercise his fury on many of his enemies: he swom already in the bloud of the Princesse of Galatia, and that of Polexander, and lamented that a night which was to be so joysome unto him, seem'd by its slow coming to envie the contentments it reserved for him. That night, destinated to so many massacres, no sooner came, but the tyrant prepared to make good use of it; he broke up the company assembled for the nuptiall solemnities, and caus'd the Bride to be conducted to a chamber which in all appearance was made ready for her, wherein she might receive the innocent pleasures of marriage; but that place as treacherous as its master, under those deceitfull ornaments, hid the deadly scaffold which was prepared for the execution of that unfor∣tunate P•…•…incesse. The Ladies who had brought her thither, innocently left her to the rage of his hangmen, and retired with their husbands to rejoyce at home for that marri∣age, which in their judgements was to produce the peace, security, and plenty of former times. Whilst all the towne was in feasting and jollity, and a great number of rascalls (hired by the tyrants complices) ran from street to street, and by their clamours and dis∣order hindered the non-performances of that tragedy which was to be acted in the palace; Polexander was taken and chain'd in his bed, even by those that were wont to waite on him, and led with the woefull Diceus into a prison that was under the King of Thom∣but's chamber. The tyrant had straight wayes notice of it, and instantly hastning thi∣ther, at first sight infinitely out-raged and reviled the Prince, and at last threatned to make him undergoe such tortures and punishment, as were proportionable to his own resent∣ment. After these insolencies he departed, and fastning the dore with many chaines and lockes, thought that the keyes could be no where so sure as in the custody of one of his daughters. She who had them was called Philesia, who was not onely more lovely then her sister, but withall more affected Polexander. The tyrant commanded her to keep those keyes more carefully then her eyes, and thinking to overjoy her, in few words declared the designe he had to avenge himselfe with his own hands, on that stranger who had made him lose all Galatia. At those words, Philesia was like to have let the keyes fall out of her hands, and indeed was neere discovering what she had till that time con∣ceal'd, if the same love which had caus'd that dangerous emotion, had not kept it from being perceiv'd. Before the enamour'd Princesse was well recollected, twenty of the most deformed Negro's which Africk puts in the number of her monsters, came into the cham∣ber

where the tyrant was, and dragging after them the two Princes of Galatia, outrage∣ously bastonaded them to make them walke. Assoone as the tyrant had placed them neer their sister, he turned to her, and making his true hatred which he had alwayes borne them to breake out to the utmost; Thou hast then dar'd to beleeve (said he) in famous brood of a heards-man that I would make thee, daughter of my greatest enemy, and a va∣gabonds concubine, the partner of my bed? Surely thy hopes have too much injur'd me, and I will therefore have them severely chastis'd. With that he looked on the Princes of Galatia, and commanded them to strangle their sister. Never shall be spectacle (how blou∣dy soever it can be imagined) any way comparable to this that I describe. At the tyrants command Philesia cast her eyes on her brothers, and seeing them insensible at that ex∣cessive outrage, she threw her lookes on them, not languishing and pitifull, but lookes that were furious, and such as upbraided them for their ignominy and cowardise. Mise∣rable men (said she) are you not yet accustomed after so long and dishonourable a slave∣ry to a blinde obedience? Doe what your master commands you, and since you have not the courage to live and die like Princes, g•…•…ve at least a testimony to the world that you are good and obedient slaves. The tyrant clapped his hand on her mouth, that she might not goe on, and growing inraged to see all his fury contemned by the constancy of a young mayden: Ah Tygresse! (said he) I alwayes beleeved that thou wert not resolved to receive me into thine armes, for any other end then to strangle me; but I have prevented thy treachery, and therefore thou desirest nothing more then to die. 'Tis true tyrant, repli'd the Princesse, I was resolv'd to kill thee this night with the weapon I conceale from thee; with that she put her hand under a large vaile of tiffany, which served her for an upper garment, and made shew as if she would draw somewhat from under it. The ty∣rant (who was extreamly timorous, as usually those are who are as exceedingly cruell) was afrighted at the Princesse's action, and flew on her, either to seise her arm, or to act him∣selfe, what he had resolv'd should have beene done by the Princes of Galatia. Philesia, seeing this prodigious example of her father's cruelty, was so strucken with it, that on an instant her intellect lost all its simpliciny, or to say better, its errour; she then perceiv'd things as they were, and disdeceiving her selfe of her former opinions, was forced to con∣fesse that children are not alwayes of an ill nature, though they disapprove the actions of their parents. The love she bore to Polexander serving her for an excellent Master, had in a moment inspired her with these high notions; in the very instant that she heard speake of his courtesie and valour, she condemned her fathers actions, and misliking them her selfe, look'd on him as an object of hatred, assoon as she thought on our Heroe; but when shee understood from that mercilesse father that hee had resolv'd to murther that Prince, she trembled through her naturall sensibility, trod under foot the names of father and daughter, and said within her selfe, that it was more just to ruine the oppressour, then to suffer the oppressed to perish. This being so, imagine what her thoughts were, and what her joy, when her father delivered the keyes of Polexander's prison into her hands; she gave heaven thankes for it, which she thought was the author of that wonder, and prayed often to have an occasion given her, whereby she might make a happy use of her charge of gaoler: she beleeved her prayers were heard when she saw the tyrant busied in disarming the Lady. Presently she ran out of the chamber, and running to Polexan∣der's prison, so nimbly handled the lockes and keyes, and so speedily opened the doores, that such a miracle could not but be attributed to the blinde God of love. Her affection advis'd her to deferre her love's deliverance, that she might the more satisfie the desire she had of seeing him; but the same passion letting her know, that she loves not truely who regards her owne contentment as the principall object of her love; she loosned Polexan∣der's chaines, and told him in Arabicke, that 'twas all she could doe for his preservation. When she had spoke thus she fled, and for feare let fall at the entry of the prison a torch which she had brought. Polexander, that would not goe forth without Diceus, lighted the torch againe that was not well extinguished, and making use of it for his servants li∣berty, presently after put it out to save themselves the better in the darke. Chance (which hath oftentimes better successe then judicious guidance) led Polexander right to the chamber where he had been taken; he knew it by the light of a lamp that hung o're the staire, and calling to minde the good sword which the Princesse of Galatia had given him,

went in to see whether any had carried it away. He found it where he had laid it, and vowing not to leave so good a weapon but with his life, descended into one of the courts of the palace; the place was inclos'd onely with a palisadoe, but the height and greatnesse of the piles or stakes made it as safe as if it had been inviron'd with a wall. Polexander ran to the gate with an intent to fight with the guard, if they stopped his going out; but he saw them all dead on the ground, and presently heard a clamour on all sides: he imagined it to be a remainder of the publike rejoycing, and that the people (ignorant of what was done in the palace) celebrated with all kinde of pleasing licen∣ciousnesse a feast which they hoped should give a period to their calamities. With this opinion he went out of that court, but when he came into a large place which served for the avant-court to the palace, he descride at very day breake a Negro dragging a Lady by the hairs of her head: that barbarous act made him forget his intention to save him∣selfe, and with his sword drawne, made towards that hangman, and with one blow on the head slew him, and made him fall at her feet whom he had so unworthily treated. Assoon as the unfortunate Lady saw her selfe at libertie, Pity me she would have said to Polexander, but knowing him as she had the first word on her tongue: Ah! thou power∣full origine of my race (cri'd she) author of light, what see I? Pardon, pardon me my first thoughts, I am guiltie of doubting of thy providence: thou savest me when I accus'd thee of my ruine, and thou left'st me not in the power of the perfidious Atalas, but of purpose to deliver me into the hands of this deare and worthie stranger. Polexander knew not presently who 'twas that spoke thus, but looking on her at leasure, he thought she was one of the Princesses of Thombut, and the very same who had set him at liber∣ty. The first imagination after this, was, that the tyrant had beene informed of his escape, and suspecting his daughter to be the author of it, had condemned her to be so dragged by the haire, that the crueltie of the punishment might answer the enormitie of the offence. This thought bred in him so extreame an horrour of that barbarous Prince, that being suddenly seis'd on with an heroick furie; O thou! (said he) that in∣structest mine armes to fight, and hast rendered me this sword, (with that he lifted it a lost) to make thine anger felt by such as contemne thy clemencie, give me now an ex∣traordinary strength, and be pleased, that to avenge the Majestie which invirons thee, I may exterminate the tyrant that dares wrong it in thy Images. As hee ended this ejaculation, he saw come out of the great gate of the palace, a man all bloudy, who be∣ing forc'd backe by neere twenty others, witnessed by his resistance that he onely gave way to their number. Polexander being mov'd with the Negro's valour, left Diceus with Philesia, and ran whither his great courage carried him. Instantly he flew in a∣mong the murtherers, and felling two or three of them so afrighted the rest, that he took from them all desire of perfecting their assassinate. He who had beene so fortunately assisted, cast himselfe at Polexander's feet, and kissing them, Generous stranger (said he) though Galatia should erect Altars to thee, should it be acquitted of that which it owes to thy valor? No truely, and I confesse for it, that having for ever delivered her from the tyrant of Thombut's persecutions, she is bound to invent new honours, to let posteritie know that she hath not blended thee amongst her other gods. Ah Prince of Galatia! (said Polexander) goe not on with these blasphemies, unlesse you have a mind to ruine your selfe; speak with more respect of things divine, and know 'tis thence, and not from me, that you are freed from the hands of your enemies. But tell me who hath reduced you to the state I finde you in; where is the Princesse your sister? What doth the King of Thombut? That tyrant is now no more, repli'd the Prince of Galatia, ano∣ther as cruell as himselfe hath strucke him out of the world; but alas! he hath had the comfort before he died to satiate his furie by the death of those you inquire after. How! (said Polexander) is the tyrant of Thombut dead? He is so, repli'd the Prince, and with him his two daughters, who truely for their beauties as well as for their vertues, merited a better fortune. But the new tyrant murdered not the father to spare the daughters, and questionlesse you will fall into his traps if you hasten not to escape his fury. Po∣lexander would have been instructed of all these tragicall events, but he had not time, for a great company of Negroes rushing out of the palace, came (with a great shouting) to fall on him; he resolv'd rather to die then give ground, and therefore slighted the

danger, and plunged his sword up to the very hilts in the belly of the ring-leader to that inraged troupe. Fortune at that very instant had minde of our incomparable Heroe, and repenting her putting his vertue to so cruell trials, ingaged her selfe to be thereafter more favourable unto him; and that she might not deferre the execution of her pro∣mise to another time, she made the most part of the inhabitants of Thombut to run to the succour of our Heroe. Rumour, though confusedly, gave them intelligence of all that which had passed in the palace, and upon that newes they had armed themselves for the preservation of their libertie, if they had recovered it, and if not, to get it them∣selves by the sword. Assoone as they appeared in the place where the Princesse Phile∣sia was left, they would have ranged themselves in order both for offence and defence; but the Princesse fearing lest their too much preparation might make them lose the oc∣casion of assisting Polexander, went to meet them all dishevel'd as she was, and without losse of time in relating what had passed: Run (said she) and make haste my friends to the aide of that man who gave the first blow for the subversion of the tyrannie which inthralled you: he is in fight with the cruell Nigeran, who by the murdering my father thinkes to become master of your liberties, your goods and lives. The Thombutians presently nock'd their arrowes, and entering all headlong into the palace court, so well behav'd themselves for the preservation of their Liberatour, as well as for their liberty, that he who would have oppressed them, (with all his complices) was sacrificed to the memorie of the dead, and the safetie of the living. Polexander, being so miracoulously with-drawne from the danger whereinto his valour had ingaged him, turn'd to the Thombutians, and speaking to them in Arabick; My friends (said he) you are too much redevable to heaven, to deferre to another time the thankes you are bound to render: Get you to your Temple, and offer up the spoiles of the tyrannie you have undergone, as an eternall remembrance, that you acknowledge your deliverance to have only come from thence. Those who understood the Arabicke, interpreted to their companions what Polexander had said; and all of them approving his counsell, resolved to follow it. He put him selfe in the fro•…•…, and taking the Prince of Galatia with the one hand and the Princesse of Thombut with the other, would march so, that the people might have compassion on them both, and be wonne more easily to what hee intended to make them execute. When he was come to the Temple, the Priests began their acts of thankesgiving, and assoone as they were ended, he intreated the Assembly not to de∣part till they knew how strange the accidents were, which heaven had permitted for the punishment of miscreants, and the comfort of honest men. Philesia hearing this pre∣face, stepped forward, and told the multitude that she being a spectatrix of all the mi∣series which had befaine her house, she could better relate them then any else. The Thombutians intreated her to feare nothing, and to make knowne to them all things as they had passed, they pressed up thicke together, that they might lose nought of what she spoke, and got her to stand on a seate which by chance was by her, that shee might be heard the farther off; and a generall silence being impos'd, thus she began: If I did not inforce my resentments, and sacrific'd not my teares and lamentations to the publike felicity, I •…•…eare lest you would thinke mee unworthie the compassion my mis∣fortune winnes from you. What shall I doe O ye Thombutians? Shall not a daughter be permitted to bewaile the death of her father? But shall a person who is obliged to you for her life be permitted to lament the death of your tyrant? No, Philesia will not confound things so differing; she if you please, will yeeld what she owes to nature, and yet not denie the debt is expected from her to her Countrey. She will rejoyce with you for the extirpation of your enemies, and bewaile to her selfe the miserable death of her father, and the desolation of her family. But why should I (with these thoughts) deferre the recitall of those disasters which have finished yours? Hearken ye inhabitants of Thombut, and judge if that man be not devoid of reason that wishes for a Crowne. Ambition, which hath alwayes handled the minde of the King my father, farre more cruelly then he hath done you, advised him to adjoyne to his owne territories those of the most part of his neighbours. He began with that of Galatia, and the facility of the conquest, gave him a desire to undertake some that were farre more considerable; to that end he rais'd a mighty armie, and was ready to proclaime warre against the King

of Gheneoa, when this visible Deitie (with that she pointed to Polexander) came to succour the King of Galatia; and by the recovery of his Realme, confounded all my fathers pretentions. His ambition seeing it selfe curb'd in the beginning of it's course, put into his thought such fearfull wayes of avenging himselfe, that the onely relating them would be able to make that monster seeme more horrible to you then I can de∣scribe it. My father therefore knowing the weaknesse of the King of Galatia, was wil∣ling to make use of it; he propos'd a peace to him on such conditions, which he thought surely the other would not refuse: it was accepted, and the Princes of Galatia delivered not for a hostage, but for the victime of that accommodation. When my father had that infortunate Princesse in his power, and with her this invincible stranger, (shewing Polexander) crueltie, which alwayes accompanieth ambition, counsell'd him to joyne the pleasure of his revenge to the firme establishment of his authoritie. Though that Devill be mercilesse, yet is it farre more ingenious in the execution of its furie; it per∣swaded my father that he should not be sufficiently avenged, if he satisfied himself one∣ly with murthering them; and that temptation prevailed. Thereupon he resolv'd that the Princesse of Galatia should die, but he would have her suffer such a death that might fully glut his furie. That Princesse was no sooner in the chamber where she was to re∣ceive the Crowne of Thombut, but she saw her brothers enter, not sumptuous and brave as she had seene them a little before, but as two miserable slaves dragg'd to their execution. Your enemy commanded them to strangle their sister, which bloudy charge disturb'd all sense and reason in them, and their sister upbraided them for their senselesnesse, shewing the stoutnesse of her heart; laugh'd at her husbands threatnings, and made him beleeve that she came to Thombut with no other intent then to murder him. The credulous King flew on her, with an intent to take away the weapon which she made shew to plucke from under her robe; but finding none, he grew the more in∣raged, and with his owne hands cast a bow-string about the necke of that to be deplo∣red Princesse. Long might she (if she had listed) have defended her life, but she con∣ceiv'd that to give it freely, was the last signe of a true courage. The executioners of your enemies cruelties, bound the two ends of the string to the armes of the two Prin∣ces, and compell'd them with blowes to be themselves their sisters stranglers. Imagine (if it be possible) what their griefes, what their sorrowes, and what their torments were during that of their sister; truely they indured so much of all, that the eldest expired in seeing his sister die; and he whom you see here, had not been alive, if in the height of his anxietie, a long swound had not made him void of all sensibilitie. These dismall beginnings had a sequell worthy of them; the cruell Nigeran whom you banished from Thombut for the enormitie of his offences, forsooke the ordinary place of his retreate, and under favour of the night, slipt into the palace, to execute that which he had often attempted. At his first entrance, he cut the throats of the guard, as they lay buried in sleep and wine; and followed with above a hundred more banished fellowes, flung into the chamber where your enemy feasted with pleasure on the bloudy fruits of his impi∣ous and abhorred vengeance. To him he threw an impoyson'd dart, which too well guided (for me most miserable and disinherited orphelin) entred under my father's left breast, and with that blow fell'd him halfe dead on the body of his unfortunate wife. My sister seeing him wounded, ran in, that she might not forsake him in that extremity, but presently being shot with three arrowes, she had the happinesse of neither surviving her father nor her fortune. All the souldiers in the chamber were put to the sword, and justly rewarded for their too wicked obedience. For my selfe, I fled, and strove to save me by the most unfrequented places of the palace; but my flight was bootlesse, for I was found out by Atalas, the most execrable of all Nigeran's companions: many strange injuries he did me, and hurl'd me on the earth, either certainely to have torne out my heart, or to murther me by some most cruell and inhumane way. But by chance finding under my hand an arrow which that monster had let fall, I gave him with it a deep wound in the thigh: assoone as he felt himselfe wounded, he arose, and tearing off part of my haire, dragged me by the rest, crosse the court of the palace. I cannot tell you what he would have done with me, but I can well say that my invincible Protector staid him, and with one blow depriv'd him of the power of doing any more mischiefe.

These my friends are the last night's events; they are so strange and so many, that they would be incredible were they a little remote from us. I desire you not to looke on me now as on her that was lately your Princesse; the dead have made that condition too o∣dious to the living to preserve it. I renounce it most willingly, and intreate from you nothing, but that burying in one same tombe the body of my father and the hatred you have borne him; you will be pleased that I may abandon the troublesome titles of Sove∣raigne and Mistresse, and partake with you the pleasures which accompany private for∣tunes. Philesia had no sooner ended this oration, which had drawne teares from the eyes of most of the hearers, but there arose a humming noise, such as often happens in a great Assembly, wherein is deliberated the peace and safety of the Weale-publike. At last as those voyces broke out, and besought Philesia to chuse a husband worthy of her, to fill the throne of her ancestors, and by the honourable actions of her government, gaine so much on the hearts of all, that (without injustice) none might absolutely condemn the memory of her father. Alas! (cry'd the Princesse) hurle me not againe into that tempest from whence I am miraculously escaped; suffer me to enjoy (with your selves) the sweets of libertie; let them desire and sue for thee that list, most miserable and glorious condition, which hast nothing but bitternesse and vexation for those that make good use of thee; and art nought but feare and torture to such as misapply it. The mournfull example of the King my father is too recent in my memory, to suffer my selfe to be blin∣ded with thy deceitfull allurements; and ye my friends, who to heape on me imaginary felicities, would make me lose such as are reall, have sufficiently tri'd that an injunction is no lesse dangerous to those that undergoe it, then to such as put it in execution. Root out therefore that monster that can but work mischiefe, and doe so, that there may not be a∣mongst you any condition incompatible with innocence. If the people were astonished to heare the Princesse speak so judiciously, Polexander was far more ravished at it; he then in∣treated the Assembly to give him audi•…•…nce, and addressing himselfe to such as understood the Arabicke; Thombutians, (said he) you cannot doubt but she will raigne well that so perfectly knowes the miseries of a tyrannicall government. Ingage her then whether she will or no, to t•…•…ke on her the care of your fortunes, and that she may have some one to lend a hand to so high and weighty a charge, give her the Prince of Galatia for a hus∣band He is descended from so good a father, that 'tis impossible for him to be ill; be∣sides the long bondage which he hath constantly indured, may well assure you that hee will sustain his regality with the same courage. This counsell savouring well to all of the best ranke, the multitude would needs know what 'twas, and assoone as they understood it, they not onely gave their approbation, but in the very instant, proclaimed the Prince of Galatia King of Thombut, and husband to their Queen. Philesia did her utmost that she might not yeeld to the peoples requests, but assoon as Polexander added his to theirs, she could no longer denie them, but descending from her seate, and extending her hand to the Prince of Galatia, I am yours (said she) since my deliverer commands it. The Prince seeing himselfe in an instant brought from a slave to a throne, did what he could to me∣ditate on so great and so happy a revolution; but (as one should say) taking his happi∣nesse with too much greedinesse, he gave not himselfe leasure to taste it. The people did not so, for these sudden and unexpected changes, gave them cause of pleasure and extraor∣dinary rejoycing: they shewed well, that their nature being of it selfe insensible, cannot be roused up but by very urgent spurs, and if it doe not instantly passe from one extremi∣ty to another, they are not capable of resenting the alterations which betide them. Po∣lexander, finding all things so well disposed, was desirous (before he parted thence) to see them well perfected; in the very instant the officers of Thombut resolv'd with him of what they had to doe, and to that end, went to the palace to take thence the dead, and having left nothing there that might retaine the memory of what passed, so altered the face of the place, that a man might say, they had built their Queene a new palace. Shee was conducted thither with much ceremony, but of all her fortune, nothing so much pleas'd her minde, as the freedome she had to see and intertaine Polexander. Assoone as she was in a place fit to speake in private, she made knowne her affection to him, and be∣sought him never to forsake her. Polexander taking notice of a great deale of innocen∣cy in that Princesses love, was willing to remedy it with as much sweetnesse; he therefore

told her, she could not blamelesly love him since she was ingaged to another, and that the promise she had made newly to the Prince of Galatia, was a continuall barre for her affecting any other. If it be so (repli'd the Princesse, with a great deale of simpli∣citie) I recall the promise I made him, for I can love none but your selfe; and with that she fell a weeping. Polexander, very loath that the Princesses follie should be known abroade, intreated her to strive with her selfe in an important affaire on which depended so much of her reputation; and intimating a great resentment of her affection, prote∣sted that of all those which had the honour to enjoy her presence, there should be none able to surpasse him in the intention he had to serve her. These words a little pacified or rather sweetned the Princesse discontents; but her sicknesse being not of that kinde which is cured by such slight remedies, the more our new physitian applied them, the worse grew his patient. When he perceived that his being there ruined all that his ad∣vice would have perfected, he resolv'd to be gone. The very night (therefore) of the Princesses nuptialls, he stole away from the palace, and put himselfe on the Niger in a boate belonging to a merchant of Gheneoa which Diceus had privately retain'd. Let us leave Philesia in quiet, since she is not to be so long, and follow the course of the Ni∣ger, and the precious charge which floates on it. Though that river runs along a most plaine and eaven champion, yet runs it as swiftly as those flouds which have a far greater declining. The lesser vessels in which the Negro's trafficke, goe thirty five or forty miles a day, and those which use their sailes make as much way more. That wherein Po∣lexander imbark'd was of the latter sort, for within five dayes saile he came to the fron∣tiers of the kingdome of Gheneoa. 'Tis a great province, and extends it selfe along the Niger above a hundred miles from East to West; it hath Galatia on the North, Melly on the South, Thombut on the East, and the Ocean on the West. The Niger which over-flowes like to Nilus, covers the lands of that Province in the moneths of July, Au∣gust, and September, and makes them so fertile, that the inhabitants want nothing useful for life. Polexander took great pleasure in seeing the abundance of those places which the ancient Geographers set down for uninhabitable wildernesses; and intertain'd himselfe with his mariner about the customes of that kingdome of Gheneoa, and the fashions or manners and exercises of the Prince. He was informed of many rarities, & by so pleasant a diversion, a little beguiled the continuall discontents, which his little hope of ever find∣ing the Inaccessible Island threw on him: at last he saw the tops of those high Pyramids, which are at the entrie of a famous Temple consecrated by the inhabitants of Gheneoa to the Sun; by little and little the other structures appear'd, and when he came neerer, he distinctly noted the faire scituation of that great village, which sometimes is in the con∣tinent, and at others, in the midst of the waters. When he came within a mile of it, he descri'd in the open fields a great many men, both horse and foot, which ran against one another as they had been in fight; thereupon hee commanded his boate might be stai'd to see the event of the skirmish, but not well perceiving that which passed by rea∣son of the dust which arose under the men and horses feet, he cau•…•…'d them to land him; no sooner was he got on the top of the banke, but he saw two men which in full speed strove to get to the river; at first he thought it was for a wager, but a little after he saw a huge lion, who violently throwing himself on the hindermost of the Knights, pluck'd him off his horse, and almost as quickly tore him in pieces. Hee who had escap'd the danger, in lien of flying away whilst the lion was busied, stai'd when he heard his com∣panion cry out: his affection had no sooner made him commit that fault, but his reason caus'd him to repent it; he would saine save himselfe, since he could no more serve him whom the lion had slaine; but he had not time, for the beast in ten or twelve leap•…•… got to him, and had handled him as ill as his companion, if he had not suddenly cast him∣selfe from his saddle, and (on foot) oppos'd his horse against his fierce enemie's furie. He had torne out the horses intrailes before the Knight could get twenty paces off; and then flew on him, proud of his victories, and presenting him his bloudy pawes, seem'd to call him to the combate. Feare had pusled the man's judgement (even till then when he saw himselfe at the point of losing his life) so far, that he put himselfe in no posture of defending himselfe. Polexander was mov'd at it, and presently with his sword in his ha•…•…d, redeeming (as I may say) the life of that miserable man out of the pawes of the

lion, would see whether it were more difficult to vanquish men then beasts; he wound a∣bout his left arme a kinde of a short cloake, which Diceus had bought for him at Thom∣but, and using it as a buckler, stopp'd the fury of his enemy. Those who have related that those beasts beare a respect to the Majesty of Kings, never saw them in an equall estate of hurting one another: the lion with whom Polexander contested, flung on him with a fearfull roaring; but our Heroe making him twice feele the edge of his sword, beli'd the fable that sayes, the rage of that beast is never so great as when hee sees his owne bloud gushing out. When he saw Polexander shield himselfe so well that he could not fasten on him, he drew backe, and flinging presently into the aire with a wonderfull impetu∣ousnesse, would have thrown himselfe over Polexander, and seis'd on his head in passing; but our Heroe avoyding that attainct, thrust his sword into his belly, and so fortunately met (it glyding upwards) with his heart, that the beast was no sooner pierced, but he fell dead on the sand. During the decision of this combate, the man for whom it was undertaken, was upon his knees, with his hands extended to heaven for his defender's victory; assoone as he saw his prayers were exauc'd, he came to him, and looking on him, was not lesse ravish'd at his brave appearance, then he had beene already at his owne pre∣servation. If thou be not (said he) the Deity whom I adore, thou art at least one of those faire Spirits which incompasse his throne, and (as Ministers of his power) never appeare but for our safegard. What would that Negro have said if he had seen Polexan∣der before his voyages, his disquiets, and insupportable heat of the South, had not only decai'd the first lustre of his youth, but so sun-burnt him, that he was not to be knowne by such as had not of a long time seen him; yet was he an Angell neer that Devill; and in∣deed he tooke him for one, and falling at his feet, besought him not to forsake him so soone, but retire to his palace, to repose and unweary himselfe of the paines wherein hee was ingaged for the safety of the others life. Polexander who began to understand the Negro's language, and principally that which was spoken by persons of quality (who a∣mong them are called the Surnigay) knew by his speech that he was King of Gheneoa; whereupon he intertain'd him as a Prince, and reply'd (after his accustomed civility) that it it was too great an honour for him to have contributed any thing to the preservation of a life which was so necessary for the weal of so many people; and though Fortune made him wander miserably from Countrey to Countrey, yet he confessed he was indebted to her, since she had presented him an occasion to serve so great a Prince. That King which might be betweene fifty and threescore, fainting by the feeblenesse of his age, as well as through the resentment of the good he had received, let himselfe fall on our Heroe's neck. Deare stranger, said he, since thou art a man as others, subject to sorrowes and afflictions, take part of mine, and stay with me, that by thy company I may receive some comfort af∣ter my late losse. That fierce and cruell beast which thou hast laid stretch'd at my feet, hath devoured the onely hope of my people, and sole delight of my old age; that sonne whom I loved so dearly, is now no more but the woefull remaines of a monsters fury. I have lost him in the flower of his youth; Alas! who shall hereafter oppose the enterprises of mine enemies. Rejoyce ambitious King of Thombut; thy prayers are heard, the rampiers of Gheneoa are demolished, and the buckler of the miserable Apheristidez is torne in pieces. In a word, he whom thou feared'st is now no more. Polexander taking hold of so faire an occasion to divert that Prince's sorrow, told him that he came from Thombut, and as he passed through it, understood that the King thereof had been mur∣dered by one called Nigeran. But (said he) in as much as the story of his death is very strange and long, I thinke 'twill be fit to remit the relation to another time. You tell me wonderfull newes (repli'd Apheristidez, (so was that King called) and 'tis fit to fol∣low your advice, and stay till we come to the palace for the hearing a matter of so much importance. In the meane while, (if it be possible) let us get hither some of my servants, to have the body of my sonne carried to Gheneoa to be interr'd in the sepulchre of his ancestors. Presently Polexander commanded Diceus to goe into the champion and call in some of the Kings attendants, and he himselfe hastning abroad too, took such paines that he stai'd a Cavalier who was getting to the towne as fast as he could ride; to him he related the accidents which had betided Apheristidez and his sonne, and ingaged him to follow. Backe he came to the King, who dissolv'd into teares, and spent these lame•…•…ts

on the torne body of his sonne: Have I (said hee) offered so many victimes for thy birth, and made so many prayers for thy life, that thou shouldest be the prey of an enraged beast? Wert thou by thy glorious actions thus to deserve the favour of that Queene with whom my false Prophets have so long time flattered my hopes? Who will acquit me of the Promise I made to thee, faire Alcidiana? and what other my selfe able to serve thee, shall goe and take on those beloved chaines which fortune and mine age hinder me from wearing? Here he stopped, because in turning he perceiv'd Polexander behinde him. But our Heroe who had heard the name of Alcidiana, was not a little troubled; he grew pale, he trembled, could not speake, and stood as he had beene out of himselfe: at last hee overcame his first motions, and loath that Aphe∣ristidez should perceive his agitation, intreated him to goe into his boat, and take that conveniency of returning to Gheneoa. Apheristidez accepted his offer, and walk∣ing to the strand where the boat lay, entered, and commanded the Skipper to steere him straight into the channels of his palace. Our Heroe who had his afflictions as well as that Prince, seated him downe by him, and musing on the name of Alcidiana which he had heard uttered by the King, was so long ere he spake, as his boat was al∣most descending neere a little Temple but halfe a mile from Gheneoa. That object suddenly dashing on his eyes, awakened his spirit that seemed asleep, though he was in a most violent agitation. He remembred Apheristidez, and to excuse his so long forgetting him, said, that the miseries of his life were so great a burthen, that when he thought never so little on them, he was (as it were) cleane overwhelmed with their excesse. Hardly, (said he) can I make you conceive the greatnesse of my misfortune, if the affliction you lately received, had not taught you how sad and dolefull the losse is of what we love: this being granted, you will be pleased not to thinke it strange, that I have submitted to so powerfull an enemie, and being ingaged in so rude a combate, I have fail'd in such things as reason and duty commanded me. Apheristidez could not heare these excuses without teares, and imbracing our Heroe with a great deale of tendernesse, How unhappy am I (said hee) since I see that from the place whence I expected all my consolation, issues the redoubling of my miseries; and that he who hath pluckedme out of the mouth of the lion, cannot deliver me from the tyrannie of sorrow? Ah deare stranger! perfect that for which you were sent; wipe off my teares, since it is particularly the office of the Ministers of my Deitie; and by the con∣tinuation of your assistance, confirme me in the opinion I have alwayes had, that there are corporall Angels on earth, as well as there are incorporeall in heaven. Pole∣xander, admiring his wisdome, and fairenesse of spirit, spake many things to comfort him; and falling on the affaires of Thombut, related all the accidents which had prece∣ded and followed the death of that tyrant. Apheristidez, in lieu of answering Pole∣xander, lifted his eyes towards the Sunne, And thou hast (said he) reveal'd to me often times that an ill life could have no happy end. After that exclamation, he stucke me∣ditating a while on the prodigies hee had heard, and as he was about to continue his discourse, he saw 'twas time to land, for his boat stopped at the entry into the palace. It was not inriched with marble, nor imbellished with that worke which the Grecians skill invented in former ages for the magnificence of their buildings. All that it had of faire, was it's being invironed with a channell, through which ran a little arme of the river Niger. The forme of it was square, and resembled a cloyster; it was built of chalke and covered with thatch. Polexander entered with Apheristidez, and thought not to finde it better furnished, then that of the Galatian King. But he was astonish'd when he had travers'd a great court full of Negro's, who were handsomely clad in strea∣ked cotton; and when he came into a hall which was for Apheristidez guard, it was hung with carnatian and greene goats skinnes, on which there were small and curious flourishings of gold. But this was nothing in respect of what hee saw in the next hall to it; there was a tapestrie of cloth of gold, and many large turky carpets, which the merchants of Morocco, of Sally, of Argiers, and Tripoly came to trafficke withall in those parts for other merchandises which were more necessary for them. Thence hee entred into a chamber, which might justly be called the golden chamber; all the floare

was covered with broad lingots of gold, on which were no figures but rayes; the walls were adorned with the same metall and gravings, excepting in the principall face of the roome there stood a statue of massie gold, seated in a throne which represented the Sunne under the countenance of a woman. Assoone as Apheristidez entered here, he began againe his sighes and lamentations, and casting himselfe at the feete of the Idoll, Almazetide is dead, (cri'd hee) and when I shall have followed him, thou shalt not have (O divine Alcidiana) any more of those disinteressed Adorers, who consecrate themselves to thy service for the sole glory of thy name. The words re∣newed and increased our Heroe's unrests and impatiencies; yet durst he not shew them, for feare left his curiosity might cause to vanish away that little hope which the name of Alcidiana had raised againe in his minde. That day and many others he let passe without daring to aske Apheristidez who that Alcidiana was, whom he put among the number of the Gods. In the meane time, his winning conversation, his faire personage, and the wonders of his valour, acquir'd so absolute a command in the Kings thoughts, that he forgot (at least in appearance) the losse of his sonne. Now, one day being close alone with him in the golden chamber, some while he kept his eyes fixed on the statue of the feminine Sunne, at last turning them away, spoke thus to Polexander; The tokens you have received of my affection, are as unworthie it selfe, as of that which I owe to the greatnesse of your courage, and the beautie of your mind; yet beleeve not that I can be ingratefull, or so ill an esteemer of occurrences, as not to understand how to give them their just value; my griefes are in part the cause that I have not hitherto performed what I ought, and partly the little need I saw of preci∣pita•…•…ing a businesse which would receive no impairement by a short deferring. But now when I know by divers presages that the true Sunne my father calls me to the fruition of that place, which he hath design'd for me above the starres, I will ac∣knowledge by two presents alike valuable the love you have shewed me. The first is my crowne, and the second a servitude and chaines, which in truth are of more esti∣mation then my Crowne. I will not speake to you of the first, since you might well know since your being here, whether my estate be of worth sufficient to satisfie the hopes of a man of your extraordinary vertue and deserving; it shall be of the other that I will discourse to you. Know therefore that farre off from the mouth of this river which runs through this towne, there is an Island no lesse wonderfull for its per∣petuall spring, then for the proprietie it hath by inchantment or nature, to make it selfe invisible to all such as seeke after it. There raignes a Princesse, the miracle of our age, the shame of times past, and the envie of those to come. Her portraicts make it well appeare that she is the lively image of the Sunne her father, or to say better, she is truely a Sunne her selfe. I have endeavoured (as you may see) to represent by the fairest of all metalls, the lustre of that Sunne; but the unskilfull hands which have wrought it, in stead of making the image of it, have onely made knowne how un∣worthie the hand of man is to imploy their paines on so faire a subject. In a word, 'tis the Queene Alcidiana, whom to satisfie the most religious passion that shall ever inflame an innocent soule, I have beene willing to adore in private, under the figure of that starre to whom we owe our being and preservation. I may say that my love was borne with that Princesse, and that she knew not the power of her charmes many yeares after I felt them. Heare how that wonder betided; it was not above a yeare after the suffrages and generall votes of all this kingdome, had seated mee on the same throne whence they had expelled my cruell predecessor, when I resolv'd to make a voiage to the chiefe of the Temples dedicated to the Sunne, to give thankes to the Deitie he represents, for the blessings his liberall hand had so largely showred on me. This Temple is in an Island, which stretching towards the Meridionat part of the sea, is seated some fiftie leagues from the mouth of the river Niger. The voiage I made, visited the holy Island, admired the riches and magnificence of the Temple, and by my offerings and sacrifices, strove to make appeare to the Power I worshipped, some little acknow∣ledgement of those benefits for which I was redevable. On the very point of my de∣parture, and imbarking thence for my returne, the Embassadours of Alcidus King of the

inchanted Isle landed in that holy Island. To the Temple hee came loaden with so great and so rich presents, that the Priests (who were accustomed to receive divers of great value) confessed that Alcidus had outgone the magnificence of all other Kings. Among these offerings, one was a statue of gold, representing a maiden of some nine or ten yeares: O fatall sight to my libertie! I had the curiositie to inquire who that young Ladie was, and Alcidus Embassadours told me she was the divine Alcidiana their Prince's daughter. The relation they made me of the wonderfull beautie and incom∣parable wit of that visible Angell so inly touched me, that I returned hither with a wound which is not yet closed up. My love grew to such a height, that it made me forsake my kingdome under a pretext of returning to the Island of the Sunne, but in∣deed it was to saile to that of Alcidiana. A whole yeare was I at sea, and yet could not discover it; then I came backe to that of the Sunne, and saw in the Temple a por∣traict of that Princesse drawne to the life, which her States had sent thither since the death of her father. Many dayes abode I fixed on that picture, but when I understood that that Princesse was so strictly guarded, that she did not so much as communicate her presence to her most affectionate and considerable subjects; and that her guard con∣sisted of a great number of strangers whom Chance had throwne on the coasts of her Island, I made a vow to be one of their band, and all my life time to weare the chains of so glorious a servitude. Yet for all my industrie, have I not been able to accomplish my protestation, but imagining by the invincible difficulties I found, that Heaven esteemed me not worthie the service of so admired a Princesse, I betooke me to a course for this kingdome, with an intent to perfect by some other, that which I could not performe in mine owne person. I had a sonne of Alcidiana's age, (with that hee listed his hands to his eyes) and the same whom you saw so cruelly murthered; him I consecrated to Alcidiana, and (with mine owne hand) having put a chaine of gold about his necke in token of his servitude sent to Morocco and Fez, to finde out able masters to instruct him in all that which might equalize him with the great King of the Canaries, the Princes Abdelmelec and Nephizus, or the invincible Ba∣jazet. I dare say his actions answered what I expected from him, and but for that not to be exceeded misfortune, which hath robbed me of him in the flower of his youth, I had been now in case to have acquitted (in mine owne thoughts) that which I had promised to Alcidiana: yet doe I not despaire of performing it, if so be my ill Fate hinder you not from beleeving your owne generositie. But why doe I indeavour by my sollicitation to force you to a businesse which can gaine no repute, unlesse the undertaking be extreamely voluntary? Polexander, who had more desire to accept the condition propos'd to him, then Apheristidez had a will he should accept of it, would have interrupted that Prince to let him understand his intentions; but Apheristidez intreating his leave to finish his discourse, I will never give way (said he) that you suddenly put on any resolution for an affaire of so great importance. I give you eight dayes libertie to consider on it; and that tearme expired, you shall make knowne to me (without complaysancy) whether you had rather be King of Gheneoa, then Alcidia∣na's slave. Polexander repli'd, there needed not so long a time to answer to it; there is not more then enough, said Apheristidez, and there withall arising, led Polexander to his most usuall exercises, which were riding and hunting. All the eight dayes after this converse, that Prince gave our Heroe all the most choice contentment could be∣tide the condition of a King of Gheneoa; and laying open to him (as I may say) all his treasure, made knowne the strength of his estate, the riches of his people, the fa∣cilitie of governing them, and the advantage he had over all his neighbouring Kings. He did more, he assembled in his palaces all the officers of his Crowne, with the chiefest inhabitants of Gheneoa, and representing to them the valour and eminent vertues of Polexander, wonne them to respect him as his successour. He had besides that wis∣dome, as in all the time he never spoke to our Heroe of Alcidiana; but assoone as the ninth day came, My sonne (said he) the time is now come wherein you are to let me know your resolution. Time hath not altered it, repli'd Polexander; 'tis still the same it was eight dayes since; I give you thankes for the Crowne you have offered me, and

accept as a thing more precious, the chaines which tie me to the service of Alcidiana. Is it possible (said Apheristidez) you will make that choice? Yes (my Lord) repli'd the Prince, I elect it as the most honourable fortune can betide me in the world. O said the King! how judicious is your choice, and what infinite happinesse doth it pro∣mise you! deferre not my sonne, deferre not any longer that voiage, goe on to the ser∣vitude you have chosen as to the conquest of all the Universe. But to the end your ex∣pedition may have better successe then mine, receive a secret which I owe to my pain∣full and troublesome experience; doe not thinke to finde the Inaccessible Island by your Pilots art, nor your long searching. Goe straight to the Isle of the Sunne, and consecrate your selfe to the Deitie. If you follow the instruction which (at leasure) I will give you, without doubt you shall be received into the number of her illustrious slaves: and if Chance which shall be common to you as with them, permit you to see the Embassadours which Alcidiana sends to that holy Isle, to render the tribute of love which she owes to the Author of her race; you shall goe to them in my name, and say, that forcing necessitie, to which all must obey, hindering me from wearing my selfe the fetters of their Queene, I have chosen you to serve her in my place. With∣out doubt they will receive you, and taking you aboard with them, will conduct you to the blessed abode of that incomparable Princesse. Whilst Apheristidez spoke thus, Polexander in his heart gave infinite thankes to Love and Fortune, and though his re∣ligion forbad him, promised them Temples, if they gave good successe to Apheristidez counsell. The King had no sooner ended, but our Heroe casting himselfe at his feet, called him a hundred times his father and benefactor, and besought him (to make his favours perfect) to accelerate all that was necessary for his voiage. Apheristidez pro∣mised him that within six dayes he should put to sea, and indeed caused all his worke∣men so to speed them, that within that time all his presents were ready. The holy vessells being lanch'd out of the Arcenall, where they were carefully kept, were brought into the channell of the palace. At their arrivall, Apheristidez, who could no longer retard Polexander's departure, long time wept over him; and imbracing him as he had beene his owne sonne, Goe, (said hee) most happie victime, goe and perfume the Altars of a Divinitie, to whom for my offences, I am not permitted to sacrifice my self. And thou visible Deitie, miraculous in thy race, (with that he look'd on the Sunne) reject not the offerings of the least of thine; I know they are unwor∣thie thine Altars, but thou regardest lesse the richnesse, then the zeale of the Adorers. Receive them then, and by thy good guidance, let this stranger quickly and happily see the issue of his desires and mine. This ejaculation ended, the King was nee•…•…e two houres with our Heroe, talking to him of nothing else but the services hee was bound to render the first yeare of his entrance into his profession, and to number to him the different imployments, whereto the slaves (according to their severall merits and re∣ception) were appointed by the Chiefe Priest of the Sunne. After he had thus in∣structed him, he imbraced him againe, and in taking his last leave, intreated he might not be forgotten in the solemnitie of the sacrifices. Polexander promised to preserve eternally the memorie of his favours, and so (with Diceus) went to imbarke himself. There were foure great boats on the river, which were appointed for the voiage, and into the fairest of them hee entered with the King of Gheneoa's Embassadours, the Priests which were to present the offerings in his name, and many other men of qua∣litie, who had taken on them the habit of pilgrimes, to goe visit the Temple of that Deitie whom they thought to be the Author of their being. The three other boats were loaden with victualls, and three or foure hundred pilgrims of the •…•…aner people. Assoone as (according to the ancient Ceremonie) they had cut the ropes, and by a ge∣nerall shout taken leave of the citie of Gheneoa, the boat-men •…•…ois'd their sailes, (made from the palme) and so fell downe with the streame. They had so favourable a winde, that they made much way in a little time; and for Polexander, the dayes went insensibly from him, having in his minde continually, the Idea of •…•…s future hap∣pinesse; and drove away by his revived hopes, the melancholy and displeasures where∣withall despaire is alwayes accompanied. These sweet and deare •…•…ations had

lasted all his voyage, if the Priests and others who were aboard, had not some∣times ingaged him to abandon his musing, to take part in their intertainment. Now, one day when those Priests and hee seriously disputed of Religion, I would saine have you tell me, said hee, why you conceale from the people the light you en∣joy; and in stead of spiritualizing their beliefe, and make them comprehend the Deity to be a Spirit; why tie you them to a Religion altogether corporeall, to a Religion of stockes and stones, I meane to the adoration of Idolls? The Priests taking themselves to be much wronged by these upbraidings, though they knew them to bee •…•…rue: The manner (repli'd they) of all such as would excirpate the worship of the Divinity, is to publish, that it is neither enough pure, nor sufficiently separated from corporeall things. That great Impostor which rules yet in the mindes of halfe the world, and whose Sectaries daily strive to corrupt the purity of our beliefe; introduced the er∣rours of his Alcoran, by breaking the many Images of the Divinity, and plucking downe the Altars that were consecrated to them. If the Deitie would that we should adore it in spirit, and that Religion should have nothing materiall and sensible, it would never have created man, but for witnesses and chanters of its glory, (pu•…•… as you desire) had been contented with the creation of Angels. Doe not therefore imagine it to be Idolatry, to represent the Divinity by palpable figures; and if I dare-say so, to incorporate that eternall Spirit, to the end to communicate it more easily to men. 'Tis true wee adore the Sunne, though hee be but a creature: but doe you beleeve wee worship him because of himselfe? No such matter. Wee adore him onely as the Lieutenant-Generall of that all-powerfull Monarch, who by him would exer∣cise his authority o're all the Universe, give life to all creatures, dispell the dark∣nesse from their eyes, to cause the seed of all things to grow and sprout forth from the entralls of the earth; and in briefe, to make men happy or unhappy, rich or poore, according as that visible Image of the Divinity approacheth or de∣clineth from them. From all times this beliefe hath beene div•…•…ged through all those Coun•…•…es which are washed by the river Niger, and I be•…•…ve it to be good, since heaven hath vouchsafed, that neither the f•…•…xe of time for so many ages, nor the many severall Nations which have flowed in on Africa, have bee•…•… able to corrupt this ancient Religion. Polexander, unwilling to bee an ob•…•…te disputer in a matter wherein the wisest men are wont to lose their moderation, and temper, an∣swered the Priest, that in the manner which hee explained their veneration, hee saw not (if hee thought rightly) wherein hee was much to be condemned. But yet (said hee) 'tis defective in one thing, and that is, your imbracing the shadow for the substance; and in attributing to the dei•…•…e a body which is impassible and inanimate, all light as it is, rather then to acknowledge it under that living body which it vouchsafed to take on for the good of all men. After this preparation Polexander preached aloud his Re•…•…gion to them, and accommodating the myste∣ries of his owne, with the ceremonies which those Priests used in theirs, so ad∣apted their mindes for the imbracing of his beliefe, that doubtlesly it had made a great progresse among the Negro's, if those Princes who seeme to bee excited to convert the Nations, had sought their conversion with the same zeale they explo∣red for gold and precious stones. In the meane time the vessells sail'd on, and at last arrived where the Niger discharges it selfe into the Ocean. The great Burgh of Jofian which commands the mouth of the River, was the tearme of our pil∣grims first navigation: there they unloaded their boats, and with as much dili∣gence as they could, carried their stuffe and provision into a great ship, which was called the ship of the Sunne. In it Polexander imbarked with the rest, after they had paid the due customes to the King of the Countrey, and entered the Ocean with an East winde, which seemed (so favourable it was) to be sent by the Sun himselfe for the waftage and guidance of his adorers. When they had lost sight of land, they a little altered their course, and leaving the Isles of Cape Verd on the South, steered full North: eight dayes together they had a calme so fit for their voyage, that they made as much way as if the winde had blowne a fresher

gale then it did. The twelfth day, those which were above in the masts descri'd the Isle of the Sunne, and cryed out thrice, The holy Land. At that word, (as pleasing to the Negro's eares, as an excellent consort to a melancholy man) the Priests caused divers perfuming pots of gold to be brought, and throwing into them per∣fumes of all sorts, sent to the Sunne a fume which represented the heat of their zeale, and the purity of their intentions. After that sacrifice, they offered ano∣ther of praise, and began a Hymne which lasted till the ship was entered the port of the Island of the Sunne. They arrived at the very houre of that starres setting, and seeing him more glorious then at his high Noone-sted, they thought hee re∣joyced at their comming, and went to adorne himselfe in the night with all the treasures hee inricheth the Orient, to be with the more extraordinary lustre and glory at the solemnity of their Sacrifices.