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

THE FOURTH PART OF POLEXANDER. (Book 4)

The first Booke.

POlexander seeing two ships of Warre which were in gard at the mouth of the River of Tensiff to weigh anchor, either to fight with him, or to see what he was, commanded his Mariners to strike saile, and his chiefe Squire to goe meet those vessels, and inquire newes of Bajazet. Presently Alcippus tooke a shallop, and observing those ceremonies us'd at sea, in token of Peace and friendship, rowed to the neerest ship to them. She was commanded by a Rover called Cady Ha∣met, to whom Polexander had before-time given his life; assoone as Alcippus saw him he knew the man, and intimating his joy for meeting him, Hamet (said he) the King my Master intreates thee to send him newes of thy Generall. The Pirate overjoyed with seeing a man he extreamely lov'd; Deare Christian (replied he) I am infinitely griev'd that the strictnesse of our Discipline makes me faile in what we owe thee: but if thou lovest me as much as I beleeve, let thy affection sway something as well as the necessity of my charge, and come up hither, that I may imbrace thee and fully informe thee of all which Polexander would know. Alcippus, desirous to satisfie his friend and his Master, tooke hold of the ropen ladder which the Pirate had throwne out, and went straight up to him. The embraces and civilities once done, the Turke led the Christian into his Cabin, and putting every other out; The King thy Master (said he) may be is ignorant of the cause which hath ingaged us in the Siege of Morocco. He is not altogether so (repli'd Alcippus) for being at the Canaries, he understood, how Bajazet falne in love with a slave of the King of Morocco had proclaimed warre against that King to get her out of his hands. This is not altogether false, (said Hamet) but thou must know, that this pretended slave of Hely, is that faire and vertuous Princesse which my Generall lost in the Kingdome of Benin: these three moneths almost hath he bin with all his forces before Morocco, and hath made a solemne vow to put the Towne to fire and sword, if that Princesse be not quickly restored to him. I will not relate to thee the brave incoun∣ters have beene since the beginning of the Siege; Let it suffice I tell thee there is to be one this day, which is to decide the Warre. Not long since there came to the King of Mo∣rocco a Knight, which calls himselfe the Unknowne: 'Tis the most expert, the most courteous, and the most valiant Gentleman, next Polexander, of all those that honour the Crosse. This Knight, and Abdelmelec the Prince, desirous to spare the lives of a great many Innocents, have resolv'd to end the Siege, by a Combate, of two against two. Bajazet and Achomat have accepted their challenge three dayes since, and the conditions of the Duell being agreed on of both sides, we shall this day see for whom fortune hath reserv'd the victory. Assoone as Alcippus had heard of businesse so important, he tooke leave of Hamet, and sail'd on with an extream quicknesse to advertise the King his Master of it: He found him with Melicerta and Cydaria, and by his recitall of Bajazet's Com∣bate, equally astonish'd them all three: Melicerta made openly appeare the feare she had

of her father; Cidaria conceal'd that which she had for her Lover, as inconstant as shee thought him; and Polexander thinking not on feare but how to prevent the mischiefe, 'Tis not fit (said he) nor must it be, that foure such valiant men should hazard their ruine for a thing meerly imaginary. Straight he commanded to set saile, and entring the River with winde and tide, made himselfe knowne to all such as were above∣board in Bajazets ships, to avoid his being stayed. When he saw himselfe in a commo∣dious place for landing, he cast anchor, and whilst they were carrying ashore his armes and horses, he with-drew the two Princesses, and intreated them in that occasion to shew they were exempted from their Sexes weaknesse, They promis'd him to over∣master themselves, and though their feare had a little troubled part of their judge∣ments, yet had they enough left to surmount all those sad imaginations, which throng∣ing on the necke of one another, came to assault their generous resolutions. Polexander left them, and taking none with him but Alcippus and Diceus, landed where his horses and armes were: He there arm'd himselfe, and getting to horse rid on an easie gallop, to the Liues which had been drawne out betweene the Camp and the Towne to inclose the place wherein Bajazet, Achomat, Abdelmelec, and the unknowne Knight were to decide the fortune of Morocco. He intreated those who kept the entrance to let him passe, and to winne them the rather, told who he was; the Pirates did him all honour, and relating their command, humbly besought him not to doe Bajazet so much wrong, as to hinder his Combate. Our Heroë unwilling to offer violence to the Guard, or to make knowne his intention, plac'd himselfe before them, and thought ere they were well heated in the fight, some occasion might present it self to stop the proceeding: it hapned according to his forecast, for he saw two Knights come from the gates of Mo∣rocco, who arm'd at all points, and riding as fast as they could, made all judge, they had aminde to be of the match. Polexander shewed them to the Pirates, and intima∣ting how Bajazet and Achomat ran a hazard if they were not seconded; Friends (said he) 'tis no longer time to deliberate: the order you receiv'd is alter'd by the arrivall of these two Knights; doe not betray your Generall by an indiscreet obedience, but at least permit him to have a third, since there are two more come in to his Enemies. The Rovers perswaded by these few words, open'd the Lists to our Heroë, who fearing he might come too late flew in like lightning among the sixe Knights: He who came to meet him, accosted him in a very warlike manner, and intreating the King fairely to take him to taske. These Knights (said he) are resolv'd to send me backe shamefully to Morocco; judge whether I should not be extreamly sensible of that affront! It lies in your power to free me from it; let me therefore brave Knight be so much obliged to you, and let your friends see, that you came not hither no more then I to be an immo∣vable spectator of their Combate. My intent (repli'd Polexander) is to separate, and not to set them on. I am the most deceiv'dst man of the world (said the Moore) or you are not a person likely to breake off such a match. I should be glad (answered Polexander) the opinion you have of me might be preserv'd without the obliging me to alter my resolution. 'Tis impossible (said the Moore.) Since you then enforce me (added our Heroë) I will satisfie you, but on condition, that he of us two which hath the better of his companion, shall goe part the rest. The foure Princes began to laugh at Polexander's proposition, as thinking it to come from a man who had a great opinion of his owne courage; and being sever'd, assoone as they had sent away Polexander's and Moore's Squires, rid to take the distance behov'd them for a fit careere. Abdelme∣lec's third man, by the furious incounter of our Heroë, receiving a shock as if it had been a blow of thunder, was borne man and horse to the ground. The Prince of Morocco broke his lance on Bajazet's shield, but with more slight then vigour; the illustrious Rover made him otherwise feele his strength, for having pierced his armour, he left a truncheon of his lance in his arme; and had made him flie over his horses crouper, but that he caught hold of the mane. Achomat came against the unknowne night with all the impetuosity which accompanieth hatred and the desire of revenge, and broke his lance to his gantlet. For the strange Knight, he was not a little shaken by his enemies violent incounter, but being restrain'd by some powerfull consideration, in passing by Acho∣mat, he bore up the point of his lance, and made so faire a careere as it could not be

compar'd but with Polexanders. Achomat, incens'd at the courtesie he had receiv'd, re∣turn'd with his Symeter drawn against the unknowne Knight, ayming at his face; Do not think (said he) ingratefull & perfidious Solyman, by thy respects to asswage my just anger. My good deeds, my care, my love should have fill'd thee with these considerati∣ons, & not thy remorse of conscience. But go on disloyall man, go on as thou hast begun; & for fear thy crimes should be imperfect, add (if thou canst) murther to thy ingratitude, to thy rape and treason. The unknowne Knight, in lieu of being offended at his words, 'Tis true my Lord (said he to his Enemy) Solyman is ingratefull, a Ravisher and a Traytor; but he is not sufficiently impudent to maintaine his offences, nor coward enough to feare their punishment. Take from him then that unhappy life, which is the cause of all your afflictions; and hath produc'd all the miseries of your family. What stops you Sir? What hinders your anger so justly provoked? Why is your revenge so slow? Sheathe your sword (my Lord) in the trayterous heart of Solyman; give no eare to your Goodnesse if it speake for him; but call to minde that he hath stuck his po∣niard in the bosomes of Histeria and Melicerta. Whilst the stranger Knight spoake thus, Polexander made his Enemy feele the weight of his arme, and to acknowledge there was no proportion betwixt his courage and his strength. In an instant he put him beside his postures, and a little after (unable for fight) brought him to the extremity of asking his life. Polexander gladly gave it him, and went presently to the unknowne Knight, whom he found continuing his accusations, and intreated Achomat to take his life: Strike, (said he) strike Sir, and suspend that greatnesse of courage which suffers you to assault none but such as defend themselves. You are not here in the quality of a Combatant, but of a Judge, and a Master. Consider then what Justice would have you doe with an offender, and the authority of a Master with a fugitive slave. Polexander interrupting the unknowne Knight, Solyman (said he) either be silent, or speake so as you may cleere Achomat from that error whereinto you have brought him. Make knowne to him by what unfortunate chance he lost Histeria and Melicerta. But I shall do better to speake for you. With that he turn'd to Achomat thus: Generous Basha (said he) Solyman is guilty, but 'tis not of too much love, as you beleeve; 'tis of neglect and insensibility. If he be the Author of the disasters befalne in your family, 'tis as the Sun is the cause of darknesse. I will say he hath ruin'd the Princesses your daughters, in refusing what they requested from him, and if I may say so, in hiding from them that light, without which their young hearts were perswaded there was none at all. But not to hold you any longer in expectation of the cleering a doubt, which must either appease or at least alter the face of your displeasure; I will in few words declare what your daughters affections were, and what the insensibility of the Prince your Slave. Know, that those Princesses, Twins in their affection as well as in their birth, turn'd at once their eyes on Solyman; and though he alwayes insolently neglected them, yet was he so happy as to be desperately belov'd. Some other lesse skill'd in the power of that passion then I am, would justifie Solyman, in telling you, that his duty and respect forbad him to cast his eyes on the daughters of his Master. But I intend not to bring you such excuses. If Solyman were so indiscreet as to make use of them, I should be the first would condemne them either as absolutely false or more criminall then his owne insensibility. In a word, this young Prince hath beene ignorant of what is knowne to beasts and plants; and all Nature which cries out that we must love, and inspires that passion when first our life is breath'd into us, hath found a monster in your Slave, who in the very height of his bloud, in the fire of his youth, and in the midst of all the allurements and beauties of your daughters, hath belied his birth, and made appeare to the shame of his Sexe, that a man might be borne incapable of all love. Histeria and Melicerta could not indure this prodigy. The one died of it with griefe at the siege of Lepanto, and the other is buried alive in a tombe, that she may never more see that unjust heaven which knowes so great a crime and doth not punish it. Achomat, who had diligently hearkened to all that Polexander had said, was a while without answering, as if he was asking himselfe, whether all that which the Prince would perswade him could be true. At last thinking well that this accident was not impossible, he addressed his speech to our Heroe, and interrupting it

with sighes: You have (said hee) judiciously forseene that your narration would change the face of my afflictions; I perceive Solyman is not so guilty as I thought him; but withall I know that I am not lesse miserable then I imagined. Whilst these two Princes were talking thus, the unknowne Knight tooke off his hel∣met, and displaying his admirable countenance which could not bee seen with∣out wonder: You (said hee, coming neerer to Polexander) are not deceived; 'Tis true my Lord, I am that monster, who by my ingratitude and insensibility have vio∣lated the most holy and sweet lawes of nature; and who in stead of acknowledging A∣chomat's favours and goodnesse, have by my excessive contempt hastened the tragicall end of the Princesses his daughters. But by what chance have you come to the knowledge of things so private, and for what cause doth Achomat deferre his revenge? The Basha's in∣dignation seeing it selfe strip'd of all that which had so long time nurs'd it, yeelded at last to Iphidamantus Innocence; and reason taking her place which passion had usurp'd, made Achomats weapons to fall out of his hands. With teares in his eyes he turn'd to Polexander, and witnessing to him his sorrow and noblenesse, Since (said he) at last I know Solyman to be guiltlesse, and that 'tis the cruell destiny of my race which alone hath produc'd my misfortune and shame; tell me, I intreat you Sir, where I shall finde my daughters bodies, that by rendering them to their desolate mother, I may give her that deplorable consolation which she can expect from so sad and lamentable a restituti∣on. Since your equitable love (repli'd Polexander) makes you alike wish for your two daughters, dry from henceforth the halfe of your teares, or let the one part testifie your griefe, and the other be an evidence of your joy. Histeria is dead, but her sister liveth, and were it not for the obstinacy wherewithall she opposeth all that may conduce to her hap∣pinesse and avenge her of Iphidamantus insensibility; she would have, as well as I, the content of seeing her deare father, and that lover who as barbarous as he is, is no lesse wished for. At those words Iphidamantus shew'd well, he had not so hard a heart as Po∣lexander upbraided him withall, but made knowne by his sighes and teares, he knew how to love; and casting himselfe at Polexanders feet, sadly besought him to discover where Melicerta was, and what he was to performe for the freeing her from her miseries. Is it (repli'd our Heroë) an intent to be a spectator of the ills thou hast made her undergoe, that thy curiosity breeds that desire in thee? or to say better, by a humanity too inhu∣mane to sticke thy ponyard in that Innocents breast to free her from her further languish∣ment? Ah (my Lord) said Iphidamantus, be more indulgent to an offender that repents him! And since I had the honour as well as you to have the generous Periander for my father, doe him not that wrong to beleeve he was the Author of producing a creature monstrous in all his qualities: I confesse I have been long incapable of that desire they call Love, and I have laugh'd at Achomat, Bajazet, at the King of Morocco, and at your self, as often as your passion hath made you act something not conformable with my opinion. But if I have been impassible, and (to use your owne words) disdainfull, and without pity; yet have I never beene cruell nor unjust: I have endeavour'd many and many a time to suppresse Melicerta and her sister's madnesse; I offered them all the reme∣dies reason furnished me withall; I have not taken pleasure in their sorrowes, but if I had thought my death could have made them happy, they had long since beene so: I will not yet by these justifications lessen the enormity of my offences; whatsoever I have done, I have deserv'd death, since the misfortune of two the fairest Princesses of the East had their Originall from me; and I would finish before you what Achomat hath begun, if my desire of restoring Melicerta to him did not imperiously command me to live. Acho∣met (interrupting the two brothers discourse) If (said he to Polexander) I could be hap∣py, the sight of you which I have so long wish'd for, would be the end of my misfor∣tunes. The name of Polexander which hath stirr'd in me so much emulation, and that high vertue, which I have propos'd for the Idea of my actions, would fill my soule with such delights as would not be found neither in the favour of Princes, nor the reputation and fame of a great Command, nor the possession of riches. But I am too miserable to taste of any felicity, and therefore 'twas necessary my daughters losse should betide, that the pleasingnesse of meeting with you, might be as it were poysoned by so great a sorrow. I accept your civilities (repli'd Polexander) since they are so many witnesses proclaiming

your generous soule hath preserv'd her purity in the corruption of a Court, where the greatest fortunes are not usually rais'd, but by villanies farre greater. But what doe I•…•… in lieu of contemplating you by what you are, I consider you by what you seeme: Acho∣mat is but the maske under which is hidden Antenor the Prince of Montevera. The fa∣vour nor alliance of the Turkish Emperour have not been able to pervert that incompa∣rable heart which nothing hath been able to conquer but love; and I know well these al∣terations, which some indiscreet man would construe to be ambition or lightnesse, are signes of his moderation and constancy. But since love hath sway'd the father to things so incredible, could he without injustice condemne that, which the same passion had made his daughters undertake? You are just Achomat; doe not then punish that in ano∣ther which you approve in your selfe; and thinke, two young Ladies being but weak∣nesse, ignorance and infirmity, were not able to resist the most sweet and contagious of all maladies: since he could not doe it, who by his valour as well as by his wisdome had infallibly ruin'd the Ottoman's, if the misfortune of Christendome had not arm'd them for their preservation. Attribute therefore to Fortune, or if you will, to Nature the disasters of your house, and bury in eternall oblivion the errours of two young Ladies who could not almost avoid them, since they had the amorous Antenor for their father. Would to heaven, (repli'd Achomat) that Histeria and Melicerta were in case to receive that pardon you intreate for them; you should get it, though nature and bloud would not force me to that indulgence: but death makes your intreaties and my love effectlesse, and (may be) you would have me beleeve Melicerta alive, to accustome me to a misery before I know the greatnesse of it. I have (said Polexander) related to you matters as they are; Melicerta lives, and since my brother is become rationall, I doubt not his re∣deeming her from the hands of that Tyrant who to tire her constancy, puts her daily to new tortures. At those words the fire flew into Iphidamantus face, and his action full of impatiency witness'd sufficiently hee was no more an enemy to love; I shall beleeve (said he to Polexander) you are of intelligence with that insensibility wherewith you upbraid me, if you doe not without delay let me know where Melicerta is: For the Ty∣rant that keeps her his captive, either he is invisible, or I am most certaine that Princesse shall be reveng'd for his wronging her. That Tyrant (repli'd Poleaander) is to be seen, but he is almost invincible: He goes alwayes arm'd, and lives in a place so strong, and so well furnished with resolute Souldiers, that of those which have hitherto assault•…•…d him, some have lost their honour, others their lives or liberties, and generally all have repented their undertaking to vanquish him. The successe (said Iphidamantus) will make it appeare whether I am happier then the rest; but hap what hap may, be confident I will not repent me of my enterprise: The onely griefe that •…•…ickes by me, is, that I have but one life to lose, and out of my poverty, I cannot acquit my selfe to Melicerta, but I must remaine in debt to Histeria. But that faire soule which amongst the etern•…•…ll lights that inviron her, may be penetrates into the obscurity of our hearts, and discovers their se∣cret'st thoughts, knowes Solyman's intention and repentance, and no more accuseth him of his forepast ingratitude; she already receives for a full satisfaction my will, which hath no bounds, nor sees no impossibilities, and considers not my power which is limi∣ted by obstacles too powerfull to be surmounted. Why deferre you Sir? (said he, ad∣dressing him to his brother) Why conceale you Melicerta from me? Are you become jea∣lous assoone as you saw me sensible? And have you not presented me with my happi∣nesse, but then when you thought me incapable of knowing it? No brother (repli'd our Heroë) I am neither jealous nor cunning, but will give you even more then you could hope: Yet shall I but vainly intimate how you may be happy if Achomat consent not to your felicity. My Lord (said Iphidamantus) let not the thought of that hinder you, I thinke not of inriching my selfe, my intent is onely to pay my debt: Let Achomat doe what he pleaseth with me; I owe him all that I owe not to Periander; when he shall use me as his slave, he shall doe nothing unjustly: leave therefore in his hands my good and ill fortune, and let him dispose of either as he pleaseth: whatsoever hee shall deliberate, I can never be unhappy if I but once suppresse Melicerta's miseries. Achomat was about to speake, and may be to testifie to Iphidamantus, that he held him not in the quality of a slave, when Bajazet, who had left Abdelmelec in as ill a case as Polexander had the

Moorish Knight, came to know the cause of so long an interparley, and who the stran∣ger Knight was: but he no sooner look'd on him, then he alighted, and with open arms (astonished and overjoyed) went to imbrace him with all the kindnesse his accustomed noblenesse could cause any to expect from him. A hundred times he kiss'd him, and had not given him over, but that the faire Prince said Polexander was jealous of his imbraces. Straight he left him to salute Polexander, and because he had heard from Hydaspes and Almaid, what that Prince had done for Zabaim and Almanzaira, he c•…•…t himself at his feet, call'd him his protector, and said aloud, he had sav'd his Parents lives, preserv'd his State, and ruin'd the fatall cause of all the disasters befalne his house. Po∣lexander not induring him in that posture, nor to heare him speake so, tooke him in his armes, and willing to make knowne he had heard all his life; Is it possible (said he) that you reserve yet some cause of hatred against Zabaim, and that the love of incom∣parable Almanzaira hath not been more powerfull over your resentments, then the ill nature of the King your father? Had you seen him as I did, ready to expiate by the ef∣fusion of his bloud, those faults which Zelopa had made him perpetrate, you would be more sensible then you are of his repentance, and not deny him the comfort he expe∣cteth in your returne. But what doe you here? Are you not satisfi'd with the death of Nephisus, and (may be) with that of Abdelmelec? Would you have their unfortu∣nate father to be ranged in the number of those sacrifices which Axiamira demands from your amorous anger, and that it shall be deadly for all Princes to have had any af∣fection for that happy infortunate one? Bajazet deeming by this discourse that Pole∣xander knew all his designes, would againe have falne at his feet to have ask'd pardon for the love he bore the Princesse his sister, but Polexander, who look'd on him as on some∣thing more then a King, retain'd him in his armes, and after often calling him brother, If (said he) your discretion had not so long time contested with your quiet, and not given to Iphidamantus and my selfe, thoughts unworthy to be related to you, we had both contributed all we could, and may be more reclaim'd the untractable humour of that Princesse, which sometimes under the name of Axiamira, then under that of Iphi∣damantus, or againe, of Ennoramita, set on fire all the Kingdomes of Africa. Is not she the cause of this warre too? have you not mistaken her brother for her? Bajazet waxing pale at that question; There is no doubt of it (said he) my misfortune is as great as ever, and I know too well for my peace, that Almaid being deceiv'd next the King of Mo∣rocco, tooke Iphidamantus for Axiamira. This discourse had infallibly continued, but the Sentinels seeing a great Troupe of horse sallying out of Morocco gates, advertis'd the Princes they were to be set on. Achomat instantly commanded foure Squadrons of foot to advance, which had stood to their armes since the beginning of the combate; and placing himselfe in the front of a Troup of Cavalry, rid to force the enemy backe againe into the Towne. The three Princes got on horsebacke to assist him, though he had no need of them, and were Spectators of that incomparable valour which had rais'd him to the supreame greatnesse of all the Ottoman Court. Assoou as feare and night had shut up the last Enemy within the walls of Morocco; Polexander and the three other Princes return'd to the place of their Combate, and scorning to intermingle ought of base or cruell with their victory, commanded fires and torches to be lighted, to see in what case Abdelmelec and the Moorish Knight were. Our Heroë found the last sigh∣ing for his misfortune, and cursing the stars which seem'd to affect the dishonour and ruine of the Princes of Grenada: by the same charming humanity he comforted him, wherewithall he was wont to suffer himself to be overcome by such as he had vanquish'd; and without any importunate soliciting, either to tell him his condition, or name, com∣manded some Arabians to take him up, and carry him into Morocco. In the meane while, Bajazet, who found Abdelmelec dead, lamented, that the chance of Warre was not able to make him a vanquisher without depriving so valiant a Prince of his life. Iphidamantus came just as he was bewailing, and seeing his friend all over wounded and drown'd in his blood, was almost at the losse of his judgement and life: at last, reason recollected him, and then his sorrow breaking forth; Unfortunate Prince (said he) how fatall have thy fathers errours been to thee! And what a dangerous Enemy hast thou had of thy great courage! Thou art dead Abdelmelec, and I live and avenge not thy

death! But the same law which seemes to engage, imperiously forbids me to undertake it. My duty is oppos'd by my duty, my friendship by my friendship, and my faith by my faith. I am Polexanders, I am Achomats; I owe my selfe to Bajazet, I cannot be thine. Thou knowest it now deare Abdelmelec, and thy soule which reads my heart, sees well whether I be so perfidious as to faile of my word: I have sworn to thee an amitie not to be terminated but by the one of us; thy misfortune hath disingaged my word, and •…•…y interests ceasing by thy death, give me the libertie on thinking on mine owne; Fare∣well then Abdelmelec, and since 'tis the will of heaven, enjoy for ever the glory thy ver∣tues have deserved. Achomat and the two other Princes were extreamly sorrowfull for the losse of their Enemie, and would not have been so indisconsolate, but onely for ta∣king off Iphidamantus discontent. Bajazet, by the advise of the rest, sent the body of Abdelmelec to the King his father, and intimated by Hydaspes, they had been both de∣ceiv'd, and their errours being equally lamentable, the griefe of the one should not be lesse then that of the other. Hydaspes performed his Commission; but whilst the too amorous, and inraged Hely bewailed the losse of his pretended Ennoramita, more then the death of his son; and ruminated in his long watchings all the tragicall events where∣withall the beautie of one same person had laid waste his Estate: the foure Printes re∣tir'd into the Campe, and without giving themselves any rest after so much travell, me∣ditated on the execution of some new designes. Polexander, that thought on nothing but how to see Alcidiana againe, would not cause Bajazet and Iphidamantus to languish any longer, nor put off till any other time the contentments he was able to give them: But how extreame soever his owne longing was, that of the two other Princes was no lesse. Iphidamantus came and cast himselfe at his feet, and embracing his knees, My Lord (said hee) if without impudence I may dare take the boldnesse of calling you brother, and if any one action of my life, hath made mee worthy that honour, I intreate you even by that, or rather by Alcidiana, not to leave mee any longer in my offence and infamy. Let mee not be guilty even after my repentance, nor let Melicerta continue her reproaching my ingratitude, when I have given over my being ingratefull. Get leave of Achomat (repli'd Polexan∣der) to goe and free that Princesse; and assure your selfe, you shall no sooner have that granted, but you shall obtaine all the rest too. Achomat over-heard what our Heroe spake to his brother, and desirous to witnesse to them both, that hee remitted all his re∣sentments to their merits and his affection: Goe, (said he to Iphidamantus) goe, my deare Solyman, gather up (if it be possible) the remainder of my shipwrack, and assure your selfe, that what you can save of it, you preserve that for your selfe. After this de∣claration, which not onely included the leave Iphidamantus requested, but withall a cleere assurance of enjoying her whom he was to deliver; he tooke Achomat's hands, and moystning them with his teares, My Lord (said hee) is it possible that you will forget those offences which my mishap hath made me commit against your goodnesse; and that in lieu of treating me as malefactors which are not quit for their being peni∣tent, you will daigne to adde your bounty to your mercy, and give me with my life, that which can make it most pleasing unto me? Achomat, having imbrac'd the Prince, Your birth and vertues (said he) are such, that all I can offer you is below what they should make you expect: But were they lesse glorious and eminent, the name of Polexander is to me so venerable, that it alone can oblige me to me more then I doe. Deferre not then Melicerta's deliverance, but give a happy end to those adventures whose beginnings have been so mournfull: No sooner had Achomat ended his speech, but Iphidamantus turn'd to Polexander, and casting himselfe downe againe, besought the Prince to have pity on him. Brother (said our Heroë) you shall have your desire, but I must first return to my ship, and by a Prisoner which I have there in hold, learne what meanes you are to use, for getting the upper hand of that Tyrant which persecuteth faire Melicerta. Iphida∣mantus (to whom his lingring was a new torture) besought our Heroë, not to have so much care for his preservation, but to let him runne the hazards of an enterprise, which must needs be most honourable unto him. No, no, (said Polexander) 'tis fit to keep you now you are growne rationall; give not so absolute trust to a passion which you have not yet had time to know well, and assure your selfe, you shall very quickly be a happy

man, if you will leave to me the disposall of your fortune: Iphidamantus being with this speech silenc'd, cast downe his eyes sighing, and yet he knew him selfe bound to doubt no more of his happinesse, since the King his brother had resolv'd it. Bajazet look∣ing on him with teares in his eyes, O (said he) too happy Iphidamantus, thou hast but scarce wished, and art presently put in possession of what thou desirest: Glory, that thy fortune is particular, and not like other mens, and that Heaven in inspiring thee with life, bound it selfe by an irrevocable oath, to heap on, and accomplish it with all that was of most delight and value. But I, borne in misfortune, and who from my life's first dayes have not beene able to avoid an assured death but by a cruell exile, what can I expect in growing elder, but an increase and growth of my miseries? All prosperities shun me, they are to me but dreames and illusions, and vanish assoone as I am perswaded they are in my full possession. Axiamira, faire Axiamira, that wert propos'd to me by my hopes as the prize for all my dangers and paines in this Siege, thou disappearest in the very instant when I should have seene thee; and Iphidamantus after his long abusing the credulous Hely, tels me that I abuse my selfe. In what corner of the world have mine enemies hid thee? To∣wards what part of the Universe should I turne my hopes and sayles, or how shall I get predominance o're the malignity of those Stars that will not have me fortunate? Polexander staid Bajazets complaints and told him, Fortune was not of those base Ene∣mies who either become reconcil'd to execute more surely their revenge, or have no heart but for hatred or to love by halfes. She hath not (said he) given you the know∣ledge of your parents, she hath not (as it were) miraculously pluck'd from the throne the person that hindred your rising to it; in a word, she hath not so much further'd your happinesse to leave it imperfect. Call to minde, she hath restor'd to you those things which you had lost, one after another, and by consequence makes ready to render you that Axiamira which onely seemes wanting to fill up all your list of felicities. With that our Heroe intreated that Prince and Achomat too, to permit him to make a turne to his ship for the giving order to such things as concern'd their common satisfaction. The Princes unwilling to offer any troublesome ceremonies, let him goe as he came; and went to entertaine time with Iphidamantus who seem'd to accuse his brother to be (in good earnest) jealous of his contentment. In the meane while our Heroe got to his ship, and finding himselfe divided betwixt the love he bore to Cydaria, and that which he owed Melicerta, he stood some time before them, ere he could resolve to which of the two he should first make knowne the good newes he had learnt. At last he govern'd himselfe by necessity, and began with her that had most need of comfort. Pre∣pare your selfe (said he to Melicerta) for the most incredible and the least to be hoped for adventure you are able to imagine. I am afraid to discover it, so strange doe I finde it; and so greatly doe I feare lest your spirits dissipated at the recitall of so great an accident be not strong enough to support it. Put your selves then to the most tryall you can; and as you have rendred many testimonies of that constancy we ought to have in afflictions; see likewise, and aske of your selves, if you have so much power over the agitations of your minde, that you can receive an extreame joy without running the hazard of your life. The greatest of joyes that can trouble me (replied Melicerta) is the happinesse of seeing once more the insensible Iphidamantus, and then, those which gave me life. Is it possible (replied Polexander) that your joy can extend no farther, and that you conceive nothing whereby it may be augmented? No, (said Melicerta) See the bounds of all my hopes, and by consequence, my joyes cannot be larger extended. What (replied our Heroe) say you had made Iphidamantus sensible, that he were pas∣sionately in love with you, if he were all on fire out of his longing desire to see you, if he would expose himselfe to the extreamest dangers, and give his life for the preser∣vation of yours; would not your joy be infinitely more then that you promise your selfe by his meere sight? The impossibilities you propose (replied Melicerta) being no more able to deceive me, cannot neither make me conceive those prodigious joyes which have heretofore (as some faine) beene the deaths of some mothers and lovers. I feare lest you may be an addition to those examples (said Polexander) and therefore I beseech you againe, by some necessary preparation, to dispose your minde, which

now is familiar with nought but sadnesse and affliction, to welcome a joy which as a remedy too violent, may kill in lieu of curing her. Melicerta not being able to refraine from smiling at Polexanders serious discourse; Feare not (said she) to tell me those good and dangerous newes. I am not in case to dye for joy, and that which you are about to tell me, must be very extraordinary, if it can either diminish or charme my afflictions. Our Heroe, imagining the sad Lady had time enough given to heare with∣out danger the change of her fortune: told her, he had found her father and her love, in such a case as had beene deadly either for the one or the other, and may bee for them both, if obligation and respect had not bound Iphidamantus hands. After∣wards he related in what manner he made himselfe knowne to them, and had drawn the one out of his insensibility, and the other from his errour; notwithstanding all Me∣licerta's extreame strivings, not to be transported with her excesse of joy, yet could she not be Mistresse over her first perturbations. Her spirit forsooke her doe what she could, and made her feele an universall disquiet in all the parts of her body: her tongue was tied up, or at most but fumbling in her mouth, O heaven! said she divers times, that is not possible, and so fell downe in a swoune on her bed; Cydaria and her women ran to her to stay her fainting; but there was no remedy, it must have his course, and Melicerta was not excepted from that rigorous Law, by which Love as well as Nature would never have up passe without danger from one extreame to another. At last she came againe, but so weakened with that fit, that she look'd as she had been long sicke, Polexander laying be∣fore her, her former constancy, and that strength of spirit with which she had dar'd not onely to defie death, but also happinesse, besought her to beleeve him more then she had done, and by degrees to prepare her selfe for the reception of Achomat and Iphidaman∣tus. After that, he left her onely with her women, and that she might be at more free∣dome, tooke Cydaria into his chamber, and being shut up with her; Sister (said he pre∣sently) if I did not approve of that judicious severity in which you have lived to this day, and if I liked not those thoughts which made you feare the service and love of Alman∣zor, farre more then the ill usage and hatred of your enemies; I should have forgotten what the vertue of your Sex ought to be, and how scrupulously a beautie more divine then ordinary, should, (to preserve her from calumny) not onely be rigorous to such as converse with her, but even cruell to her selfe. I commend you therefore for cutting off all hopes wherewith the quality of Almanzor, and your adverse fortune might flatter his young desires; and chose rather to put his life in hazard, then to lay at stake your reputa∣tion. But as in what you have done, you have showne your selfe a worthy inheritrix of Perianders magnanimitie as well as of Axiamira's wisdome; you should now much de∣generate from the vertues of them both, if being no longer in your ill fortune, but on the contrary, able to grant or refuse any thing with that independency which is annexed to the quality of Princes; you doe not conforme your selfe to the laudable intentions of Almanzor. Cydaria, prepossessed by a false opinion, stopped her brother, and having humbly besought him not to goe further on with his discourse: I know my Lord (said she) that since the losse of Periander and Axiamira, Heaven enjoynes me, to look on you as on one that represents them; and to beleeve my intentions are not just, if they be not wholly subjected to yours: this being so, it is forbidden me to have any aversion or li∣king, but as you shall think for my good, that I am obliged to love or no; and how good soever my election might be, it cannot be lawfull without your approbation. Doubt not then (if you please) but (being ruled by these thoughts) I have a blinde obedience for all that you shall prescribe me, but knowing you perfectly just, and truely debonaire, I will take the boldnesse to make my humble remonstrance to you, and say, That if I come once to be in the power of Zabaim's sonne, I runne the hazard of becoming a second Alman∣zaira. Polexander, perceiving that Cydaria's discretion permitted her not to make knowne her truest thoughts; Sister (said he) being so well assured of my love as you are, give me leave to complaine a little of your modesty, and to accuse you for not using me as a brother, but as a stranger. I feare hence forward to speake freely to you, yet I will, since my affection commands me to lay by a while my complying, to tell you without chiding, that what you seeme to feare most, is what you feare least: your foresight ex∣tends not farre enough to make you feare Almanzor's future inconstancy: 'tis the pre∣sent

that affrights you, or to speake more truly, which holds as it were in suspence the resentment which you ought to have of those services which that great Prince hath done you. I remember very well the time and place, when and where your little anger began; an opinion which an ambiguous speech wrought in you of Almanzors sicklenesse begun this spleene: it hath beene fed by such new thoughts as your griefe and jealousie could contribute; and you have beleev'd, that he deserv'd to lose your affection which had neglected it for that of an unfortunate she-slave. Cydaria blushed at the truth of this discourse, and could well have wish'd for strong reasons to repell it; but Polexander giving her no leasure for such injustice; I will (said he) take you out of the errour you are in, and shew you how dangerous it is to give credit to their talke, who relate to us such things as have not been well examined. Know then that Bajazet, understanding by his Spies that you were falne into the King of Morocco's hands, instead of returning to Senega, where he was earnestly wished for, in lieu of satisfying the intreaties and love of Zabaim and Almanzaira, in lieu of going to receive the Crownes of so many Kingdoms assured to him, he left the Pirates Isle, and with all his forces came and besieg'd Morocco. The Combate he was in to day, in making him victorious, hath made him lose all the happinesse he expected by his victory: I let him know that his servants had taken Iphida∣mantus for you; Iphidamantus confirmed him in the same truth, and presently cast him backe into the same griefe he felt when your fained being stolne away, made him go seek for you in the Pirates Island. To speake truth, you must be altogether insensible if you be not moved with the love and perseverance of that Prince, and you have not any rea∣son at all, if for false suspitions, you leave Almanzor in such vexations as the beliefe of your losse casts him into. Though Cydaria was overcome by this remonstrance, yet she would but halfe shew it; and putting on the countenance of a personage that would not grow obstinate against a veritie: Time (said she) and occasions which have not your ob∣sequiousnesse for Almanzor, will teach me what I must thinke of him. As she ended these word, she heard a great noise, and thought it came from Melicerta's cabin, whither she ran and found her falne into a fainting, whence no remedie of theirs could draw her; at last our Heroë gave her of an Essence which Diceus had made him, and she presently recovered her sight and speech. Assoone as she saw the Prince and Cydaria, she made knowne to them by her languishing lookes, and strange sighes, that she was not strong enough alone, to overcome the disorder of her agitations, and that she need•…•…d the pre∣sence of Achomat and Iphidamantus to over-rule their rebellion. If the miseries I indure (said she to Polexander) move you to pity, be a meanes to bring hither my father and Solyman, and though I feare them both alike, winne them to see me in that mournfull case I am brought to; that their presence may at least▪ speedily make an end of killing me, if it have not power enough to preserve my life: with this she grew pale and shut her eyes, but Cydaria kept her from fainting againe, and with her words, as well as by Po∣lexander's cordiall, strengthned her a little, and made her able for the seeing of Achomat and Iphidamantus. Our Heroë went to them, and related to what extremitie Melicerta was brought: those Princes were so overjoyed to see themselves so pleasingly deceiv'd, that they were within a little of running the Princesses fortune. Ah Polexander! (said Acho∣mat) with how much interest do you pay me the care I have taken in the breeding of Iphi∣damantus: he for his part imbraced his brother, and with a good grace upbraiding him for his malice to him; O how rigorously (said he) have you punished me for my contempt of love! y•…•…t can you not execute too cruell a revenge, for my offences are beyond all others. But what doe I? I complaine on you, and yet am indebted to you for my life, since I am for Melicerta's safetie: let us goe quickly and free her from the rest of her miseries: with that he turned to Achomat, and continuing his speech; Doe not (said he) let that sweet Lady die, nor suffer Solymans inhumanitie to be infectious enough to corrupt your good na∣ture. To all this Achomat made no answer, but sent to Bajazets tent, and understanding none knew where he was, got to horse with Polexander and his brother, and rid in all haste to the haven: our Heroë got him into his shallop, with himselfe and his brother, and commanding his mariners to make all haste, they were in a trice at the ship. Acho∣mat went first aboard, and the two brothers followed him; their coming could not be so private but that it caus'd some noise in the ship: Melicerta heard it, and doubting

not whence it sprung, was so violently mov'd with it, that her spirits dispersing againe, she fell into another trance; at that very instant the three Princes entred her cabin, and found her for dead on her bed: Achomat being not with held by any respect, cast him∣selfe on his daughters face, and moistning it with his teares, Melicerta (said he pitiful∣ly) my deare daughter, know thy father and increase not my griefes in renewing, when he thought them ended: Iphidamantus was at the beds foot as immoveable as a statue, and having his eyes fixed on Melicerta: Alas Madam (said he) will you have me beleeve that I am ever deadly to you? My insensibilitie hath oftentimes gone neere to bring you to your grave, and must my love now give a period to your dayes? Thus said Iphida∣mantus, but out of consideration he spoke it so softly that no body heard him. Present∣ly Melicerta came to her selfe, and seeing her selfe in the armes of a man, thought it had been Iphidamantus, and that beliete made her ashamed; she was about to thrust him away, but lifting her eyes up more fixtly, she knew 'twas her father, and so fell backe halfe dead with confusion and joy. My dear daughter, said Achomat, canst thou not indure the end of thy miseries? Must both good and ill make thee alike wretched? Open thine eyes, know thy father, and be not more cruell to thy selfe then either love or fortune: both of them at last accord what thou desirest, and if my consent be necessary for thy contentment, doubt not but it will be conformable with theirs. Melicerta heard one part of this speech, and forcing her selfe to answer it, My Lord (said she very softly to her father) if you will promise me your favour and forget my follie, I have yet courage enough to orecome my weaknesse, and preserve to you the unfortunate Melicerta. I have forgot∣ten all (repli'd Achomat kissing her) and protest thou canst desire nothing from my love which it will not grant thee. If the enjoying of Solyman can contribute ought to thy life's happinesse, I give him thee by that soveraigne Law which permits me to dispose of him. Melicerta blushed at those last words, and not daring to answer, con∣tented her selfe with casting her eyes on Iphidamantus. Achomat got him come neere, and speaking to him with the mildnesse of a father; If you yet (said he) remember, that I bred you as mine owne sonne, shew me I intreate you in the saving of Melicerta, that you have some resentment of my care: kill not him that hath preserv'd your life; and since Melicerta's love is worth more then the most glorious Crownes, make appeare to us now, that your minde is too generous to give an eare to ambition, when it whispers to you against dutie and justice. Melicerta never moved her eyes, but keeping them fix'd on Iphidamantus, expected his an•…•…wer to know what should become of her. Iphida∣mantus imagining there needed something else then words, to answer Achomat's win∣ning propositions, cast himselfe at his feet, and looking on Melicerta, When (said he) I thinke on what I owe to the goodnesse of the father, and the love of the daughter, and besides revolve in my mind the prodigies of my forepassed life, I acknowledge my self un∣worthy the favours which both have afforded me: but since you measure by the great∣nesse of my ingratitude, that of your benefits; and that you propose to me rewards in lieu of the punishments I have deserved, I cannot but stand amazed at my happinesse, and tell you, that as I have lived the most ingratefull of men, I must needs die so too, by the im∣possibilitie (whereto you have reduced me) of acknowledging your incomparable fa∣vours. Melicerta had an extreame desire to speake, but her discretion shut her lips, and her fathers presence permitted her not to take the freedome which her love advised her. Cydaria who judiciously had avoided her being present at these passages, entred Meli∣certa's cabin with an action and habit conformable to the present state of her fortune; and having gracefully done her complements, came to the faire Turke to congratulate with her. Achomat knowing her by Iphidamantus, did to her all the civilities she could expect from a man perplexed as he was, and led her to his daughters beds-head. Then did Cydaria make knowne her excellent ingenuitie, for taking Melicerta for the subject of her discourse; 'Tis a great while since (said she to Achomat) that the Princesse your daughter hath wished for this day, amongst all the torment which that absolute power presiding over us with so much tyrannie hath made her undergoe, she felt none so cruell as to be absent from you. A hundred times in my hearing hath she wished her selfe able to give her whole life for one instant of your sight; and sometimes, when the excesse of sorrowes had reduced her to an extremity: O death (hath she cryed) how sweet

shouldst thou be unto me, so that thou wouldst not take me hence, before I had regain'd the favour of my honour'd Achomat. Cydaria spoke those words in a tone so fit to move compassion, that the Basha could not refraine from teares: but whilst he gave this tribute to nature, Iphidamantus rendred farre greater to love; he was come up to Melicerta, and standing in the posture of an offender, which strives to get pardon for his faults: Faire Princesse (said he in kissing her hand) scorne not this fugitive slave who prosecuted by the remorse of conscience, offers himselfe voluntarily to all that your an∣ger shall denounce against him. 'Tis not the insensible Solyman you see at your feet, that monster hath long agoe been out of the number of things existing: 'tis the repen∣ting and sensible Solyman, he yet intreates you to be lesse good then the Basha your fa∣ther, and not to forget such crimes as would make Mercy it selfe worthy to be punish'd had she sealed them a pardon. Melicerta in lieu of answering to this, incessantly sighed; she tooke Iphidamantus hand, put it to her mouth, and with kisses, or (to speake things as love hath inspired mee) with characters of fire, imprinted on it, the pardon which Iphidamantus beleev'd he had not merited. She contented her selfe with that mute elo∣quence not onely to assure her lover of the extremity of her affection, but to have him beleeve that all the miseries she had indured, were deare and pleasing to her, since they had produc'd such a height of felicity. Achomat interrupted the mysterious interparley of those lovers, and to refresh the spirits of all in Melicerta't cabin; I wonder now no more (said he to Cydaria and Iphidamantus, which stood one before the other) at those errours which have been occasioned by your two faces: The King of Morocco is not so blinde as we beleeve him, and for my owne part I confesse, that were I from you but one quarter of an houre, I should not know which were Solyman. Melicerta desirous to give to Cydaria all that she owed to her affection: This dayes miraculous accidents (said she) command you to give thankes to the King of Morocco's mistakes; you had been as well as I in your discontents, had that Prince been more cleere sighted, or Baja∣zet's spies not lesse deceiv'd then that amorous old man. But fitly (said she, changing her voyce) now I talke of Bajazer, what important reason of State hinders him from coming to taste those sweets for whose fruition be indures so many ills and exposeth himselfe to so many dangers? Achomat repli'd, had not our care of you daughter put by all others, we had either been yet in quest of that Prince, or he here with us. When Polexander came and intimated how extreame ill you were, we sent to Bajazetstents, to let him know the cause of your sudden departure, but our Messenger found him not, nor could any of his guard or slaves tell to what quarter of the Camp he was gone. The haste we made to see you, may be our excuse, if not towards this faire Princesse, (he spoke it, turning to Cydaria) yet at least to others, why we forsooke that Prince in his discontent. As Achomat ended his speech there arose a mighty noise in the midst of the Pirates fleet. The trumpets and other instruments of brasse, which serve to warne the Souldiers what to doe, disturb'd the silence of the night, and the calmnesse of the elements. They cryed, Arme, arme, on all sides, and the mariners whose toile is all in confusion, blended their clamours and cryes with the Souldiers uproare. Polexander not knowing what the cause of this Alarme should be, sent Diceus to inform him, who was no sooner out of the Kings ship but the noise was husht; yet loath to returne with nothing, he got to the place where the Pirates fleet was yet in battalia: he staid the first he met, to know what had happened, some told him the arrivall of the King of Senega, whom they thought friend to the King of Morocco, had engag'd the whole navy to put themselves in order to fight with him; Others told him, but uncertainly, of Bajazets losse, and gave him a great desire of cleering so important a newes: as he was in that trouble, he met with the Rover Hamet, who knowing him in the darke, Hoe, Diceus (said he) if thou lovest Bajazet, bring me quickly to the King thy master: Diceus told him he was in his ship; and for himselfe, he was come by his Masters command to know the cause of the Alarme. 'Tis a strange one (said Hamet sighing) but thou mayest know that Bajazet is dead, if Polexander save not his life. Diceus imagining Hamet to be too much afflicted to speake, got him into his shallop, and so carried him aboard the Kings ship. Assoone as he was in Melicerta's cabin, where Cydaria was with the Prin∣ces her brothers and Achomat, he cast himselfe at the feet of our Heroë, and witnessing

his feare by his faultring speech, Sir (said he) you have gone neere within these two houres to lose Bajazet, and if your company get not the suppressing of his resentments, I verily beleeve he will meet with that death between the armes of Zabaim and Alman∣zaira, which he would have found in the sea. Knowest thou what thou sayest (asked Polexander) in a tone expressing his affright? Yes very well, repli'd the Rover, and know more, that the onely griefe of meeting with Iphidamantus, where he thought to have found Axiamira, hath made him to confine by a quick despaire his vaine and long hopes. Relate that strange resolution (repli'd Polexander) whilst we goe to succour that despe∣rate man; presently he call'd for Diceus, and commanding him softly, to cause his ship to be steer'd neere to Zabaim's, bid him with-draw, and he himselfe shut the dore to Me∣licerta's cabin: whilst he was speaking to Diceus, Cydaria was stolne behinde the sicke Princesses bed, and set her selfe on it, to heare Hamet, and not be seene. Our Heroë thought it so, and beleeving the Pirate's relation might contribute much to his sisters sa∣tisfaction, intreated him to make known very particularly what he knew of his master's misfortune. Hamet being a little recollected, began his discourse thus; Some quarter of an houre after the newes of our General's victory came to our Navy, our Sentinels gave us notice there were a many sailes descri'd at the mouth of this River; this being con∣firmed by the fires on the coast, and by those in guard at the entrance, our Admirall made ready, and put the ships in battalia. But this alarme lasted not long, as you have heard; for presently two ships brought our Admirall newes that the discovered fleet was the King of Senega's, who as Bajazet's friend had for his aid arm'd all the vessels he could make ready. Our Admirall who was absolute in his command, sent not to Baja∣zet for his direction, but presently dispatch'd Telisman and my selfe to Zabaim. We made to him, and coming aboard, perform'd those complements whereto his assistance and quality obliged us; he seem'd very sad, and perceiving we tooke notice of it: Pardon me (said he) if I entertaine you not with all the joy I ought to shew you. As you came, my wife and my selfe were busied about the cleering (to our selves) somewhat which even now makes me not able to speake to you but with some disturbance: the adventure is such, as you must beare a share in it, but that you may the more freely understand it, let us retire to some roome in the place where we are, both more commodious and quieter then here among so many Souldiers and Mariners equally affrighted. Zabaim having received us with these civilities and excuses, brought us into his cabin, and spending not long time in speaking of his forces and the cause of his getting them together: My ship (said he) with some few others, staid at the foot of that dangerous rocke which over∣hangs the entrance into this River, and I attended the Moone rising for my setting saile againe, when I heard a voyce over my head which in words the most lamenting I ever heard, besought heaven and earth, things sensible and insensible, to be witnesses after his death of his faith and constancy. Whilst I was attentive to those complaints, there grew a great bustling among the sailes and ropes of my ship, and running to see what it was, I found a man hung in the tackling: I commanded to have him straight taken downe, and seeing that the height from whence he fell had depriv'd him of his senses, have caus'd him to be brought into a cabin neere to this; no sooner cast I mine eyes on him, but I know not what remembrance fill'd me with feare and horrour; my wife coming in to practise that charity which hath gotten her the name of Mother to the afflicted, earnestly look'd on him, and was no lesse troubled then I. We have for these two houres done all we can to get out of our astonishment, and o'recome the long trance of that unfortunate man, but as effectlesse in the one as in the other; this is the cause you have not been entertain'd as you might expect: When Zabaim had ended, Sir (said I) may 'tis fit our Generall were advertis'd of the accident, therefore we both beseech your Majesty to let us see that de∣sperate person. My thoughts (said the King) which are not yet well setled, made me forget that which particularly I had a desire to tell you; 'tis, that I am much deceiv'd if the man we have succour'd be not one of the principall of your Army. By something he weares he seemes to be a man of command, and if my wife mistake not, it must necessarily be your Generall himselfe. Here Zabaim stopp'd, and we who found no likelihood in this con∣jecture, besought him to let us see the man, and to put him out of the opinion he was in, we related to him what Bajazet had done that very day: but assoone as he shewed him

to us, lying yet stretched out as dead, I knew him and cried out 'twas my Generall. My companion as much afflicted as my selfe, thinking Bajazet had beene dead, cast himselfe on him, and kissing his hands, began to call to him in his eares, as all the Sectaries of Mahomet use to hollow in the eares of their dead. In the meane while whether Nature after it had beene so long time dull'd, awaked suddainely, or the Princes strength recall'd by their applying of remedies had disengaged his spirits which his fall had as 'were suffocated, so it was that Bajazet came to himselfe. The first signes of life he gave us, were his sighes, which being not well perfected pe∣rished in the place of their conception, and were not perceiv'd but by their heavings about the seate of his heart; These halfe-sighes were followed by others, which seem'd to flye headlong to get forth. At last, after he had a while mutter'd what none could understand, yet came he out distinctly with this: I will no more depend on the injustice of fortune, and my soule unloaden of the weight of my body, may freely goe in quest and finde thee faire Axiamira in what corner of the earth soever my cruell de∣stiny hath hidden thee. Almanzaira recovering from her deadly sorrow by degrees as her Son came out of his swoon, ceas'd not to invoake that eternall Pity which had so often and so miraculously redeem'd her out of her afflictions; and to beseech thence with her teares, an end to those miseries which continually travers'd her life. Her prayer ended, she oftentimes kissed Bajazet, whose head she kept on her breast, and cal∣ling him sometimes Almanzor and othertimes Bajazet, intreated him to know her and to come out of his reaveries. To strike his imagination with some name well knowne to him, she intreated him to looke on Almaid and Hydaspes who infinitely grieved for him: At those names he strove to open his eyes, but the brightnesse of the lights for∣cing him to shut them againe; Almaid (said he) and Hidaspes are with me, for their fidelity would not permit them to survive my death. You are welcome, deare Compa∣nions of my many miseries; and since in your life-time you have lov'd nothing more deare then my company and contentment; continue that affection, and joyning for ever your shadowes with mine, let us goe together in quest of faire Axiamira. Whilst Bajazet mov'd all that heard him to compassion, and Zabaim with Almanzaira melted into teares, I came to that incomparable lover, and so talk'd with him as he came out of his musing. Yet no sooner was he come to himselfe but he began to cry out as he had felt some great torture, and afflicting himselfe for being alive: How Bajazet (said he) thou liv'st then, and yet hast for ever lost the hope of finding Axiamira! Ah Polexan∣der! Ah Iphidamantus! what will you say of me? To get him from this new affli∣ction. I said you were in great care and search'd for him every where. With that I came away, and had so good fortune as to meet with Diceus when I was out of hope of finding you. If therefore you regard the friendship of Bajazet, save his life while it is in your power. Here Hamet ended; and Polexander replied (to comfort him) that his Generall should soone have satisfaction. But what doe you the while, faire Cydaria? You sigh in secret, you beare a part in the griefes you conferre on the loyall Almanzor, and repent for suspecting so wonderfull a constancy. I see well your scrupulous vertue growes angry with your disposition, and it is not lesse griev'd then your lover, to be compell'd to receive so sensible a blow, and not have sufficient armes to defend it selfe from it. But let her not believe, that in giving way to so powerfull an Enemy, she les∣sens her reputation. 'Tis true your severities are overcome, and abandoning a place they had so couragiously maintain'd, they would exhibit to your thought, your being accus'd of weakenesse or cunning. But let not your faire soule feare these calumnies. You yeeld way when it is both just and glorious not to defend your selfe. I could not refraine from this exclamation, seeing what transports and anxieties the newes of Ba∣jazets despaire wrought in the faire and discreet Cydaria. Certainely her vertue strove incredibly to hide her resentments, and not let her selfe be overcome by this unlooked for accident, but the weaker part of her soule, suppressed the stronger, and wisdome was enforc'd to give place to love. Polexander who seem'd to be ordain'd by heaven to be the comforter of all afflicted, and the Lovers Mediator betwixt Love and Fortune; understanding his Ship was come up to Zabaim's, left Cydaria with Melicerta, Achomat and Iphidamantus, and went alone to prepare Bajazet for the receiving that happinesse

he came to present him. When Zabaim and Almanzaira knew him, they were so much overjoyed, that they seem'd to have no more thought of the danger wherein their owne sonne yet lay: O my deare deliverer (cry'd Almanzaira) turne your eyes on a miserable mother which hath no life but in the life of her sonne; and now perfect that which you began in the Isle whereinto Fortune had exiled me. Heaven promised me at that very instant you arriv'd there, that the period of my miseries should be the work of your cou∣rage and extreame charity. Perfect a promise which should be infallible, and since you have preserv'd the mother in her selfe, save her againe in her sonne. Madam, reply'd Polexander, the spectacle here is such a wonder to me, that I can scarce beleeve what mine eyes and eares informe me; surely the ill Angell, Enemy to the greatnesse of your race, hath driven Bajazet to a resolution, which in all likelihood was not to be expected, ei∣ther from the vigour of his spirit, or from the power of fortune her selfe. 'Tis not past five or six houres since he came off victorious from a Combate, whereto he had beene challeng'd by the Prince of Morocco; and Achomat, Iphidamantus, and my selfe, were preparing our selves, to see him triumph over his enemies, and the Town he hath besieg'd; when Hamet brought us newes of his despaire: If Madam, I divine right, I know the cause, and can by consequence promise your Majesty to give an end to it. I do not doubt it, (repli'd Almanzaira) and how great soever our afflictions are, I hold them not past re∣medy, if you undertake the cure. A fairer hand then mine (said Polexander) must be imployed in so great a restauration, let it suffice that I know where 'tis to be had; and you have nought to doe but to render the patient capable of receiving what shall be prescribed for the assuring of his recovery. 'Twas thought Bajazet heard these last words, because he presently opened his eyes, and made plainly appeare, he had absolutely forgotten all he had done since his parting from Polexander. He arose, and knowing the Prince a∣mong so many strange faces, You see (said he) how fortune continues the signs of her ha∣tred: Abdelmelec is dead, Morocco is brought to the extremity, I have forced out of her Kings hands, that which made me proclaime warre against him, and yet am I more mise∣rable then I was before my victories: the happinesses I desire not, come head-long tum∣bling in at my pleasure; and that which I wish for, runs from me in what part of sea or land soever I follow it. Put out of your minde (repli'd Polexander) a beliefe which may be was true in times past, but is not now: you shall finde at Morocco, what you seek, there. Hely who deserves not the fruition of Axiamira, could have only her picture, but Almanzor, whose vertue can never be worthily enough recompenc'd, shall when he please possesse Axiamira her selfe. Bajazet, scarce giving Polexander leave to end what he had begunne, and besides not taking notice of one of them that were about him, imbrac'd our Heroë, and calling him often his Lord and Deliverer, Doe not (said he) deferre the execution of your promise: the happinesse you propose to me is so great, that you must give me leave to doubt of it, till mine owne eyes assure me. I refuse not the condition (an∣swered Polexadder) but what will the King your Father say, or the Queen your Mother thinke, if you goe hence without rendring them that to which nature and their good∣nesse bindes you? Bajazet started at those words, and looking about him, he not onely knew Zabaim (for he had often seen him) but beleeving who Almanzaira was, both by Almaids relation, and instinct of bloud, he cast himselfe at their feet, and besought them to pardon his present and forepass'd extravagances? 'Tis I (my sonne) said Zabaim that should aske to be forgiven for mine, and intreate you by my repentance, (which is the onely thing can winne you to a forgetfulnesse of my faults) to blot out of your memory all that I have made you suffer since the day of your birth. And I my sonne, said Alman∣zaira, (casting her selfe on Bajazets necke) beseech you to lay all the accidents of your life on the secrets of that Providence which cannot possibly faile, and to beleeve, that no fi∣nister thing hath betided you but for your better availe. Bajazet had many good things to say, but the imperious object of that beauty he wished for, not permitting him to have a thought for any other then her selfe, made him contract them into submissions and ex∣cuses. Almanzaira, who was incomparable in all her endowments, desirous to conferre a part of her contentment on her sons passion, intreated Polexander to acquit him of his promise, and not deferre a pleasure which might be the ruine of many others. Bajazet shall be satisfi'd (reply'd our Heroë) and his satisfaction shall be the more perfect, in that

for the receiving it he shall not lose the pleasure he takes in the sight of the King his fa∣ther and your selfe. What must I doe to be so happy? (cried Bajazet) with the impa∣tiency of a man truly passionate? nothing (said Polexander) but to goe from this ship into mine. Zabaim, who had at least gotten this advantage over his extreame amo∣rous inclination, to be the most civill of all men, said, That though Almanzor should once againe be jealous of him, he would be the first to see his ancient Mistresse. Pre∣sently there were plankes laid between the two ships, and not onely Zabaim but Al∣manzaira, (whom Polexander led) and the timorous Bajazet, went aboard our Heroe's ship. Achomat and Iphidamantus came to welcome them, and their complements en∣ded brought them into the cabin where Melicerta and Cydaria were. Almanzaira, who went in first, first saluted the two Princesses, and Polexander presenting his sister to her; See here madam (said he) the cause of all your sons discontent, I deliver her into your hands to be punished in a way proportionable to her offences. Almanzaira in stead of answering Polexander, addressed her selfe to Cydaria; I doe not (said she) beleeve you so guilty as your brother would perswade me; nor doe not thinke you are a stranger to me; 'tis long agone since I knew you, and if Polexander call to minde what he saw in my hermitage, he can tell you, how you kept me company there, and your picture was one of my principall ornaments. Cydaria, shewing her vertue by her modesty, and her wisdome by her answer; I was (said she to the Queen) most happy in a time when I esteem'd my self the most unfortunate Maiden alive; and by that which it hath pleas'd your Majesty to let me know, I acknowledge, fortune did justly handle me so cruelly, since in lieu of being thankfull for her favours, I accus'd her for want of pity and justice: I aske her pardon heartily, or rather, to shew my thankfulnesse for the good I have re∣ceived, to the person to whom I owe it, I persever in my continuall contempt of for∣tune, and cast my selfe at your feet to render you my humble acknowledgements for your exceeding favours. Madam (repli'd Almanzaira, having staid her from kneeling) I meane not that you shall so easily be acquitted of the debt you owe me: I desire you would give me the Originall, for the care I tooke in so well preserving the Copy; and that you will contribute somewhat to the safety of him that would have hazarded his life so often for you. Cydaria could not answer the Queene, because Zabaim, Acho∣mat, Bajazet and Iphidamantus, entring the cabin, they were ingag'd to begin new ci∣vilities. The King of Senega blush'd in seeing againe that face which had power to overcome all Zelopa's enchantments: Cydaria grew red too at the remembrance of some former passages; but she presently grew pale, and had much adoe to stand up∣right when she saw Bajazet between Achomat and Iphidamantus. Zabaim, as reform'd as he was, left not to be very pleasant and gamesome, and told Cydaria (after he had saluted her) he repented him not of his former perceptions. I found you faire in Guinea, (said he) I finde you faire in Morocco, and if I may speake it with awaking the jealousie of any that shall hear me, I love you no lesse now then I did then: yet there is this oddes, (he added, smiling) then I lov'd you with an intent to enjoy you my selfe, and now I love you that another may be happy in your fruition; I am certaine the per∣son will not displease you, for if my memory faile me not, I call to minde that you had no great mislike to him I would bestow on you. Cydaria, that had a flexible and pleasant wit, and who gracefully altered her discourse and humour, according to the di∣versity of such personages whom she would oblige, smil'd before she would answer Za∣baim, and casting her eyes downe a little. I do not remember (said she) ought of what your Majesty talkes to me: The accidents which are befalne me since I came out of Guinea, have so wrong'd my memory, that I have scarce enough left to keep me from not knowing my selfe. Zabaim in lieu of answering, went to take Bajazet, and pre∣senting him to Cydaria, Here's one (said he) will put you in minde of those things you have forgotten: I am sure he hath not; and there is nothing that betided you whereof he cannot give you an exact account. Bajazet would faine have borne a part in this franknesse of humour, but he was not master of his fancy: Love which is a severe God would▪ not have him jeast with his mysteries; he appear'd there before Cydaria, overjoy'd, but abashed and confused. If he had hope, he had feare too; no sooner did any heate appeare in his face, but it was called backe to its center, and forc'd to give place to a

chilnesse, which ftoze his bloud and made him as pale as death. Almanzaira did the part of a good mother in her sonnes extremity; she spoke to his Mistresse for him, and said so much, that she must have been farre lesse inclin'd then she was to beleeve it, if she had not been perswaded: after the father, the mother, the brothers and friends had laid the foun∣dation of this easie recomplement, they thought it best to leave the remainder to love. Bajazet had never a Second left to serve him against Cydaria, and Iphidamantus was a∣lone with Melicerta; whilst these foure lovers swumme in such delights which cannot be knowne nor expressed by those that love not; Zabaim, Almanzaira and Achomat equal∣ly satisfi'd, consulted together about the accomplishment of their childrens desires. Po∣lexander's Officers, who well knew their charges, had in the meane time prepar'd a feast worthy the company in their masters ship: the neatnesse and magnificence of it strove for priority, and though the sea have not those commodities which are found on land; the place yet where those Princes were entertain'd, made them see that Polexander was able to master all kinde of difficulties. During the repast, divers discourses were on foot, at last Iphidamantus was intreated by the company, to tell them by what meanes he fell againe (under the habit of a maiden) into the hands of the King of Morocco. Melicerta who had a farre greater desire then the rest to heare her lover, impos'd silence assoone as any one would speake, and shewing an attention even before Iphidamantus began his re∣lation, anticipated the pleasure she was to receive by it. Iphidamantus, loath his Mistresse should stay any longer in expectation of what he desired, began thus the sequele of his adventures.

The Continuation of Iphidamantus History.

THis is the second time the King of Morocco's eyes, (as ill judges of beauty as his old yeares are unfit for love) have taken me for Cydaria. The first was when I left the service of the Grand-Signior: as I was in quest of Polexander, I was ship-wrack'd on the coast of Morocco, but never was shipwrack accompanied with so strange an adven∣ture; for no sooner was I got on shore, but a many Souldiers of Guargetsem Fortresse tooke me up with extraordinary shoutes, and making the places about to resound with the name of Ennoramita, brought me right to their Kings chamber. That Prince over-joyed to see me, a hundred times repeated the same name, cast himselfe at my feet, kissed my hands, us'd me like a Goddesse or an Angell, brought me into a chamber royally a∣dorn'd, and left me among many women and blacke eunuches. To this Iphidamantus added, that which he before related to Polexander; and coming to his departure from the Pirates Island, till this time (said he) no man ever knew, no not Polexander, the true cause that made me forsake Bajazet. I must now declare it to you, and not feare to con∣fesse my faults, since I have so exceeding milde judges; I was enjoying the delights of Ba∣jazet's Isle, and (I confesse it to my shame) never thought on Histeria's death, nor Meli∣certa's miseries, when the quietnesse of my minde, and the mirthsomenesse of my humour forsooke me without any apparent cause. That which till then pleas'd me, began to be distastfull, and the pensivenesse, sighes, and Bajazet's disquiets, which I could hardly in∣dure, became my most pleasing diversions; I found delights in solitude; company was irksome to my melancholy and restlesse thoughts; I learnt to sigh in earnest, and found pleasure in it; sleep left me; and I knew by my long and troublesome watchings, how cruell the nights are to the sicke and unfortunate. Though I grew angry at this new manner of living, yet I found some sweetnesse in it; one night, when certainly I slept, though I thought my selfe awake, a great flash of light dash'd all obscurity from my chamber, and strooke into mine eyes: at first I took it for lightning, but the same lustre having (as it were) dazeled me the second time, I opened my bed-curtaines to see what it was, and perceiv'd walking with an incredible sadnesse and slownesse, a young mayden which had her breast open'd with some blow of a sword: the bloud gush'd out in great clots from the wound, and the faire apparition, inlieu of being terrifi'd, look'd on it run∣ning out, with a great deal of pleasure; holding her eyes thus fix'd on her wound, she drew

neere me, and shewing it to me with the point of her bloudy sword, Looke on it (said she) as well as I, insensible Solyman, we have no lesse contributed to it the one then the other: 'Twas indeed this hand and this sword that made it, but 'twas thy disdaine and inhumanity, which drove both to this desperate action: Make thy selfe drunke with this bloud, since thou hast so thirsted for it, draine out all that rests in my veines, I will in∣dure thy cruelty, so it extend no further, and that my poore sister who languisheth in a desert Island, be not compell'd to have recourse to my violent remedy for the cure of that malady whereof thou art the inflicter. With these reproaches the Ghost vanished, and I awaking found my selfe as cold as ice, and as wet as if I had newly come out of a river. Alas! (cry'd I presently) faire soule, which accusest me of thy death, thou knowest well that I am but a farre distant cause, and though my inclination would have drawne me to love thee, yet my reason must have hindered me from it. I confesse yet that I am guilty, since thou condemnest me, and would to heaven my ruine could restore thy life againe; thou shouldst see me runne to my death with joy and alacrity; but since these wishes and vowes are but bootlesse and vaine, I will make one more just and solid, and from this day engage my selfe, never to be at rest, till I have given Melicerta satisfaction. I cannot tell you whether it were the effect of the vision, or my vow that wrought my alteration; but presently, of impassible, I began to be all passion; and felt all those torments which Po∣lexander and Bajazet had so often described to me: I cast my selfe out of my bed, and scarce having the patience to dresse me, went to Bajazet, not knowing well what I did: Brother (said I, all amazedly) I love, and my desire to finde the worthy object of my affection, will not permit me to stay longer with you. Bajazet will tell you if you please, that hearing me talke thus, he thought me out of my wits, and asked oftentimes to what end I held a discourse with him so out of all appearance? 'Tis very true though, said I, and that you may not doubt of it, hearken to such things as I never yet disclos'd to any. Thereupon I related to him all which had happened to me at Constantinople and Le∣panto; and ending with the vision I had lately seen, I fill'd him with as much astonish∣ment as commiseration: Besides, knowing my sicknesse by his owne experience, Away, away (said he) deferre it no longer, 'tis not justice that you should be exempted from the fate of your family. He gave me a good tall ship, with all such as I would chuse to ac∣company me, and taking his leave; My dear brother (said he) I will quickly follow you; and but for Almaid and Hydaspes whom I daily expect, I would be as well a companion in your voyage as I am in your fortune: thus we parted, and 'twas after our separation that all those accidents betided me which I have recounted. After I had been some while with Polexander, and saw him (as well as my selfe) in a longing to attempt his fortune againe, I left him steering for the inaccessible Island, and bore up for the Straights of Gi∣braltar, to get into the Mediterranean Sea, and enquire after Melicerta either in France or Italy. The winde driving me on the coast of Barbary, I landed in the territory of Argier, and went into the Towne with an intent to see whether Melicerta had not been so unfortunate as to be taken by those Barbarians, and enchained among their slaves: But my search was as effectlesse there as it had been in other places; and for being too curi∣ous in those parts, I lost the hope of seeing Melicerta againe. That Towne being peo∣pled with a many severall Nations, and of all kinde of wits, amongst others feeds a great sort of men and women which make profession of calculating nativities, to divine of things lost, and foretell of what is to come: I went to one of these Cheaters which was of most reputation; 'twas a Marabou called Cid Amatonis, which dwelt without the gates of Argier: after that false Prophet had done a thousand superstitious Ceremonies wherewithall he was wont to deceive poore people; he told me, that which I searched after, was not to be found but among the dead. Polexander interrupting his bro∣ther, Had you (said he) understood the true sense of those words, you would not accuse your Mirabou of ignorance and lying: for 'tis very true (insensible Solyman) that the treasure you look'd for, was shut up among the habitations of the dead, and the con∣stant and generous Melicerta had chosen for her retreate the Tombe of her dead sister. Me∣licerta was a little moved at Polexanders reproving his brother, and therefore speaking with her accustomed sweetnesse; My Lord (said she to our Heroe) you know that Iphi∣damantus hath made his peace, and by consequence we must not revoke to memory things

passed. The company could not heare these milde remonstrances, without admiring the goodnesse of that Lady that made them, and ravish'd with Iphidamantus strange accidents, intreated him to proceed; which he did (from where his brother had inter∣rupted him) thus: I confesse (said he) when Cid Amatonis had made me this fatall re∣ply, I laughed at his art; and told him I was sure the person was alive whom I sought for. My art (said the Mirabou) deceives me not, and however assures me, that personage is inclos'd in a Tombe; and for confirmation of that verity, Know with young man (too faire to be happy) that this face so full of allurements shall quickly finde greater then its owne: there are Sorceresses in this city, that trouble not themselves as those of old did, with drawing the Moone downe from her Spheare, in spoiling with haile their ene∣mies harvests, nor to change the course of Rivers; their imployments are farre more mortall and sad towards such whom nature hath endow'd with any lovelinesse and beautie. Those they binde in unperceiveable chaines, and by their sorcerie, depriving them of all understanding, sell them to rich voluptuous women, who finde no pleasure truly high, if they change them not every day. Looke to thy selfe young man, this misfortune threatens thee; it hangs over thy head; 'tis done; thou art lost. I went (with that) out of Amatonis hermitage in such a choler, that I scarce had any feeling of my miseries; and had not gone a hundred paces into the Town, when a women, covered with a great vaile, and holding a long Chaplet after the Turkish manner, staid me by my arme. What (my sonne, said she) 'twas sure your ill Angell that led you to the Cell of the abominable Amatonis. Bethinke your selfe well (said she) affrightedly; Doe you know what you are? Doe not you take your selfe for some Tiger or Lion, or other such beast? For 'tis the custome of that wretch to trouble the mindes of all that consult with him: I confesse, I was so weak as to stop at the words of that old Phantasm, but finding no alteration in my selfe: Mother, (said I) the man you speake of, is not so good a friend as to deprive me of all reason and knowledge: but on the contrary, hath (for all my life time) made me miserable in conserving it to me, and rob'd me of that little hope which kept me alive. He hath taken nothing from you, but he may be glad to restore it, repli'd the old woman: Beleeve me (my sonne) his predictions are all false, and many times already he hath for his impostures given satisfaction under the cudgell of the hangman to the indignation of the most eminent in this Towne. Ah, Mother, said I, if you would bring me to some one that could tell me newes of the good which I have lost, I promise to make you forget the incommodities of your old age. My sonne (quoth the Sorceresse) 'tis my custome to doe good to every body, and receive no requitall. Come along and assure your selfe how extraordinary soever your affliction be, I will finde a remedy for it. My griefe and passion which made me more senslesse then I have been fince, through that old womans inchantments, wonne me to follow her, to the end I might learne the scituation of that Island where the Ghost of Histeria had shewed me Melicerta. I should be too tedious, if I related to you the richnesse of the house, whereinto the Witch brought me: without it seemed a little one, but with∣in there were stately roomes and lodgings, with furniture of silke and gold, and a gar∣den wherein many fountaines mingled their sweet murmurs with the perfumes of O∣range trees and Jessemines. Assoone as I was in this delightfull lodging, Thou art wel∣come, childe of my heart, said the old Sorceresse; and being thus entertain'd, she led me into a Closet which was all hung with the pictures of the fairest Ladies in Africa. Mother (said I) if that pity which you lately shewed me was not fained, and if ever ano∣thers miseries have sensibly touched you, doe your utmost indeavour to give some com∣fort to the most unfortunate of all men. I extreamly love a Lady, as great by birth as in∣comparable in beauty, and my miserie is such, that I know not to what part of the world she hath betaken her selfe: She is in no lesse care for thee my sonne, (repli'd the Witch) then thou art for her; cheere up then, and assure thy selfe, that ere long you shall both receive the contentment you seeke after. This discourse was a wonder to me, never∣thelesse, since we easily beleeve what we wish, I imagin'd this woman would not have promis'd me a thing so assuredly, if it had not beene in her power. I intreated her to let me see assoone as she could the effect of her promises. How (said she) what? dost thou not see it? I with that turned my head, and saw at the closet dore a young Lady

very lovely and richly clad, whom I thought to have othertimes seen; but I knew it was not Melicerta, and as I would have found fault with the Witch for deceiving me, that Lady cast her selfe about my necke, and moistning me with her teares, Is it possi∣ble (deare Solyman) said she, that thy insensibilitie should continue still? Doest thou not repent thee of the griefes thou hast made me suffer by thy neglect and flight? It is al∣most a yeare that I have sought thee, and neither the thought of my birth, the feare of dangers, nor the duty I owe my father, have been able to detaine me. I have crossed all the Mediterranean, got into the Ocean, and finally not knowing where to finde thee, retir'd to this Towne: For these eight dayes I have enquired diligently after thee, I have imployed all the Sooth sayers and Magicians, to learne what place hid thee from my inquiry, but none could satisfie my passion. This aged woman onely mov'd with my affliction kept me in hope of seeing thee againe; and as one day (to please me) she shewed me thy amiable face in her inchanted glasse, on an instant she snatch'd away that powerfull crystall, and cri'd to me, runne; for at this very time Solyman passeth by the windowes of your chamber. My love making me forget what was seemly, made me run not onely to the window, but into the street to imbrace thee; thou vanishedst from mine eyes, and for all that I could doe from that day hitherto, it hath been out of my power of seeing thee againe: This faithfull companion of my miseries seeing how extreame they were, was willing to mitigate them by her art; and going forth hence this morning, Daughter (said she) give over your teares, and put on againe your former blithenesse; this day thou shalt fee thy insensible faire one; I gave credit to her words, and see they were not frivolous. I hold thee now my deare Solyman, and protest that nothing but death shall separate me from thee. The kindnesses and talke of that Lady had so disturb'd the little sense was left me, that all I could doe was to looke on her with mine eyes, all threatning and full of anger. Shee on the contrary cast her a∣morous glances on me, and beseeching for some pity on her afflictions; Alas (said she) is it possible that the unfortunate Ennoramita must eternally intreate and never be heard? At that name, I remembred that she who spake to me was the same daughter to the King of Tunis, whose young errours I have related to you, and found my selfe extreamly pusled; yet faining not to be so; Rather (said I) Ennoramita is it possible, that so great a Princesse as your selfe, should so abandon the place of her birth, and ta∣king on the trade of a vagabond and lost one, have so little care of her reputation? Let some other then thee (cruell Solyman, repli'd she) upbraid me for that fault: For thine owne part, thou shouldst like it, and canst not with justice deny it a recompence; I confesse, the anger of seeing my intentions cross'd by this fatall meeting, carried me beyond what was fitting; I laid on her a thousand more imputations; I condemn'd her furie and blindnesse, and having often threatned the old Witch, I strove to get my selfe out of the hands of these two enraged creatures. Deare Solyman (said Ennoramita) forsake me not in the estate I am; I have not much longer to live, since thou canst not indure that I should love thee: stay but a little and thou shalt see thy selfe freed from this miserable wretch. The old woman, who as I have heard since, had been the Prin∣cesse nurse, and had made her undertake her voyages with an assurance of finding me; had rather see me perish then not content Ennoramita's passion. I cannot tell you whe∣ther it were by words, by soft feelings, or other witch-craft; but in the very instant that I went out of the closet into the chamber by which I came; I felt my selfe strucken as with the stab of a ponyard, and losing all knowledge, fell in a swoune on the floore. I cannot tell you what Ennoramita and the Sorceresse did during my trance; but when I came to my selfe, I found me in a bed, without any memory of what had passed. I forgot Melicerta, I remembred not my voyage, I had cast mine owne selfe so farre in oblivion, that there remained no more knowledge of it in me, but that me thought I was not the same I had beene. Notwithstanding, Ennoramita' charme had a successe farre differing from that which Dircé (so was her Nurse call'd) had promis'd her. In stead of loving and sighing for her, me thought I saw (when she appear'd) something most horrible; and often times taking her in my visions for the bloudy and mournefull Ghost of Histeria as I had seen her; Alas! (cri'd I) follow me no more! I confesse fair Princesse I am guilty of death; I have stroke that ponyard into thy breast, but be satis∣fied

by my ruine, and expose me no longer to these cruell serpents which continually burne me, but kill me not. Ennoramita grew almost desperate to see how I was, and wish'd every day that her Nurse could breake the charme she had given me: but being lesse able to suppresse the ill then to cause it, she advis'd the Princesse to carry me to Tu∣nis in a maydens habit; to which Ennoramita consenting, and making preparation for all things needfull to the voyage, departed, assoone as she saw a little diminution of my frenzy. By her returne, she restor'd to the King her father, the life she had almost de∣priv'd him of by her flight. That Prince, who without doubt had by his example con∣tributed to his daughters follies, treated her as his companion, rather then as if he had been her father. He was pacified in keeping her more carefully then before times, and to di∣vert her immodest affections resolv'd to visit her every day after dinner. For my selfe, who passed from my former frenzy into so deep a melancholy, that I did nothing but sigh and weep, and made Ennoramita's life so irksome, that she had infallibly slaine her selfe if the Nurse had not at all times assur'd her, that as my frenzy was turn'd into a melancholy, so that melancholy waxing away by little, I would become such a man as she had alwayes wish'd me. In the meane time, the King of Tunis casting his eyes on me, took me for what I was not, and would needs know of his daughter where I was bought: she fitted him a leafing, and said, That seeing me at Argiers in the market where they sold slaves, my comelinesse gave her a minde to buy me; and were it not for the griefe which disquiets her, she were the most pleasing creature in the world. Alas! what ailes•…•… she (ask'd the King her father?) 'Tis a strange griefe repli'd Ennoramita: she hath so passionately loved a Canarian, that losing him by a tragicall accident, she hath never since given over her fighes and lamentations. This melancholy, in lieu of lesning by time, still encreaseth; and from time to time so disquiets the poore mayden, that none without pity can see her actions or heare her complaints. Heare I beseech you a strange example of our fantastik∣nesse; That King who was no more master of his wits then Ennoramita, had seene me divers times, and though he thought me a maiden, and beleev'd me faire, yet had he not intimated any affectation toward me: but no sooner had he heard the tale his daughter invented, but he tooke a particular pleasure to entertaine me, and imploy'd all his best Rhetoricke in the Essaying to sweeten my sorrowes. He spoke to me of my pretended lover, held his condition happy, since it made him receive so great proofes of my love; and protested to me he would not complaine of his fortune, if by his death he could bring me to the like resentment. To this I answered with fighes and teares, and that franticke Prince found lovelinesse in my melancholy: he pleas'd himselfe in it, and stirr'd not from me; at last he was constrain'd to let his passion breake forth, and to satisfie it, to take his Rivall (I would say his daughter) for his confident. Imagine whether I were not happy in having but one part of my reason at that time; and what a redoubling of tor∣tures it had been to me, if being perpetually to oppose the folly of the father and the love of the daughter; I had besides been afflicted with the remembrance of Melicerta. Enno∣ramita's Nurse labour'd on one side to annihilate her former charme by a second, but not being able to doe it without putting me to extreame violences, she so altered the body to comfort the spirit, that I fell ill of a sickness which all the Physicians of Tunis at first held incurable. After a continuall feaver of forty dayes, and a weakning of all parts of my body, so generall, that there was nothing left me but my sight, I beganne to feele some small ease; I then began fully to know my selfe, and ask'd (alone) where I was; since when and how I fell sicke, and why I had given over the quest of Melicerta. By little and little my memory came againe, and though it shew'd me, one after another, the Ide∣a's of such things as had betided me before I fell into the hands of Ennoramita, yet could it not make me call to minde what had befalne me since: As I troubled to know the se∣quele of my adventures, Ennoramita came to see me, and commanded all those that were in my chamber to with-draw. When she was alone, she fell on her knees, and taking my right hand which was out of the bed, By this hand which I kisse, said she, and by this sub∣mission wherewithall I implore thy goodnesse, deare Solyman, pardon me those faults which the excesse of my love have made me commit against thee. I confesse I am unwor∣thy thy love, since I would have purchas'd it by other charmes then those of my affecti∣on and perseveranee: but if I have judges a little more pitifull then thy selfe, I shall finde

mercy. For tell me lovely Soiyman, what faults are pardonable, if that of too much love deserves to be punished? The Princesses speech did renew in my memory, but confusedly, some particularities of my sicknesse, and that reiterating the desire I had to know all: Faire Princesse (said I) the unfortunate Solyman knows too wel theeffects of love, to condemn as criminal the actions to which he enforceth us. Al that his absolute power make us undertake is just, and if some one think otherwise, he knows not what love is. After this, fear not faire Princesse to declare what you have done to me; & know that we never understand better how violent a passion is, but when it puts on such as it possesseth to actions extreamely violent. May I beleeve, replied Ennoramita, that 'tis from thy selfe, and not the vertue of some new charme, which gives thee so favourable thoughts, and makes thee so pitifull? If it be so, let Fate doe its worst, I will never thinke my estate unhappy. Ennoramita, having put on this resolution, related to me all that I have told you, and the meanes she made use of, to try the overcomming my insensibility. Afterwards she acquainted me with the causes of my last sicknesse, and suddainely casting her selfe on me; Deare Solyman (said she) I say not, if thou love me, but if thou hast pity on a Princesse who is even mad for thy love hinder me (since 'tis in thy power) from losing mine honour with my life. Thou hast both in thy hands. Deale with them as a man truly generous, and strive to constraine thy selfe a little, that the King my father may not discover how I have beguil'd him. I aske thee nothing, but that thou faigne thy selfe to be a maiden, and induring the love he beares thee▪ be so noble as to draw me out of a labyrinth whose intricacies thou onely canst winde through.

Instead of answering the Princesse, I began to reflect on her miseries and mine owne; and exclaiming against heaven; Justice eternall (said I) which raignest over us, why intendest thou to inflict such strange punishments on poore miserable crea∣tures, which are but the play-toyes of our passions, and the examples of a deplorable weakenesse? And thou unfortunate Princesse, (then I addressed my selfe to Ennora∣mita) what pretend'st thou by thy obstinate affection? Thou lovest a wretch that can∣not love thee. I must needs confesse it, I love as well as thee, and my love as well as thine, is accompanied with so cruell a destiny that it cannot attaine to what it aspires. Thou follow'st me, and I follow another. I flye from thee, and by another am as fast fled from. Thou intreatest I would have pity on thee, I grant it, provided thou be not unpitifull to me. Let's do the like one for another; and since our diseases are equally dangerous, let us run both to the same remedy. 'Tis fit I should conforme my selfe to your opinion (replied Ennoramita) but 'tis impossible for me. I wish thy peace, and yet I cannot chuse but disturbe it. Yet I am not desperate of being able to please thee, but thou must give me a great deale of time to performe a matter of that difficul∣ty. Grant me that which I request thee, and I will yeeld to what you desire. This last word so seis'd on the Princesses heart, that she was neere suffocated in pronouncing it. The teares fell abundantly from her eyes, and her sighes impetuously driving out one another, resembled the impetuous course of a torrent which had overflowed the damme that oppos'd it. No sooner was she a little resettled, but the King her father came into my chamber, and accosting me with a countenance that witnessed how deare my life was to him: Now (said he) I perceive my prayers have beene heard, and heaven hath granted to my Sacrifices the recovery of faire Philomela, ('twas under that name En∣noramita made me passe for a maid.) And truly (said he) it had beene too rigorous, had it condemned to a precipitated death, or to a perpetuall languishment, a beauty, which for its owne glory, merits not onely to live long on earth, but to be there perpe∣tually happy. Sir (replied I) if ought could give me comfort in my sad fortune, I had met it in the entertainement I receive from your Majesty and the Princesse your daughter. But alas! the misery I am falne in is so great, that not onely it can have no end, but it even deprives me of the capacity of being comforted. Melicerta is dead, and by consequence there is no more happinesse left for me in the world. The deare name of Melicerta renewing within me the sense of those miseries whereunto I had exposed her, drew such abundance of teares from mine eyes, that Muley Hassen could not doubt the truth of my losse. He thought it fit, (seeing me so sensible of my misfortune) not to

discover any griefe of his owne. He therefore contented himselfe in making appeare to me by reasons and examples, that 'twas a thing unheard of among men to love that which had no existence. But (he added) I hope, the same hand which hath redeemed you from the grave, will free you from these mournfull and funerall cogitations which are so fatall to your repose. Many other words he us'd which I will not repeate, and 'twas very late ere he went from me. As long as my extreame weaknesse forced me keep my bed, all the day and part of the night I had with me either the father or the daughter; assoone as the one left me, the other tooke the place, and both of them spea∣king to me of their affection, in lieu of afflicting (as you may imagine) they comfor∣ted me; since they represented to me mine owne. I utter'd boldly before them both, the deare name of Melicerta: I besought her to heare my laments, to thinke how my constancie was assaulted, and to give it the vertue of continuing victorious. When I spoke thus before Ennoramita, Shall I (said she) make my prayers contrary to thine, or implore heaven not to heare thee? In one same instant my affection commands and forbids it, it would have me love thee owne for mine sake, and by the same reason wish the losse of Melicerta: on the other side, it would have me love thee for thy sake, and by consequence pray for Melicerta's safetie. Thus that happie enamour'd Lady is not onely beloved by him she affecteth, but is affected by what she persecuteth: Againe, Solyman in this contestation meets both with his content and glory; he satisfies his passion in resisting what opposeth it, and by the power of her allurements, makes Me∣licerta triumph on her Rivall. Thou art alone, ô infortunate Ennoramita, the person on whom Heaven powres all its choler, and Love hath chosen as a victime which must be sacrific'd for the happinesse of Solyman and Melicerta. The Princesses passion still furnish'd her with so many new thoughts, that I had need of a wonderfull memorie to retaine them: The King her father produc'd no lesse, and seeing in the declining of my sicknesse, that my mirthsomnesse came againe with my strength, he thought Me∣licerta began to be worne out of my memorie. That opinion gave him the boldnesse to discover his love to me, and intimating that he would not treate me as other beauties which he kept shut up for his pleasure; he at first promis'd me the Crowne of Tunis. Your vertue (said he) and beautie which are both extraordinary, exempt you from the Law of indifferent personages. I will suspend the customes of the Kings my Predeces∣sours, to teach all Barbary, that a merit without comparison, may worke something without example. Philomela shall be plac'd in the Throne, without feare of compa∣nions or Rivall; and if her vertue cannot indure in my Palace, any subjects of impuritie, from this houre I breake open the doores of my Seraglio, and give both libertie and ho∣nour to so many faire slaves as the chance of warre hath given me. To all these faire promises I continually oppos'd my inabilitie of accepting them, and the losse of Meli∣certa. 'Twas a great deale worse when I had absolutely recovered my health, and that the beautie (which I will beleeve I had for feare of disobliging Cydaria) taking new vigour, shone in the eyes of Muley Hassen (as he told me) like the Sunne when after his leaving the Tropicke of Capricorne, he ascends towards that of Cancer. But leave we at last these extravagancies of love, and (since 'tis the will of Fate) end this Comedie by a tragicall Catastrophe. Muley Hassen and Ennoramita, meditated on nothing but how to become masters of a place which they had so long and vainly assaulted; when they themselves were set on by the Garrison of Argiers, who had correspondencie with some inhabitants of Tunis: The Towne was instantly wonne, and the Palace be∣set, before Muley could resolve whether he should defend himselfe or flie; the Turkes (who knew his cowardise) urg'd him to yeeld, and after two daies battering wonne it by force. See what love can doe? Muley, fearing more my losse then his owne, no sooner saw the Turkes enter the Court of his Palace, but he ran to my chamber, and staying at the dore with his sword and buckler, made them see, that he who wanted a courage to defend his Crowne and life, had an extraordinarie one to maintaine his passi∣on and protect his pretended Mistresse. The most resolute Turkes gave ground before the blowes of that Prince, and seeing their obstinacie to contest with him, did but serve to ruine them, they talk'd to him of his safetie, and that he should not hazard with his owne person, his daughter, and people. Ah traitours cri'd the Prince, you have not vio∣lated

your faith, and forc'd my City, with an intent to have a care either of me or mine; No, I will die like a King, and not doe as those infamous Princes, who to prolong an unfortunate life, cowardly present their neck and arms to the fetters of your Tyrant. With that he flew among the Turkes, and though they had command not to kill him, yet the necessity of defending themselves, made them neglect that order. Assoone as I saw him fall at the feet of his enemies, I was touched with an extreame shame for counterfeiting so long the maids part. In a rage I flung out of Ennoramita's armes, who besought me, not to hazard my selfe, and seising on a Cymitar and Target which were falne from a dying Turke, I flew on those that were entred my chamber: some of them I slew, and drove out the rest; I thinke verily that the respect to my sexe, bridled the Turkes fury; for exposing my selfe as I did to their arrowes and swords, it had been very easie for them to have given me my pasport with Muley Hassen. Ennoramita, seeing me in that dan∣ger, forgot what she was, and the feare of my losse causing a neglect of her preservation; she ran after me, and as my buckler boldly defi'd death which inviron'd her on all sides. One while the Turkes in respect to of her, retaining their fury, she fell on her knees, and imploring their pity; Take my Crowne (said she) and leave me this companion of my miseries; but as she would have gone on with her petition, an arrow, shot at randome stroke through her tongue, and passing on, so dangerously hurt her, that she fell downe halfe dead: presently she cast her eyes upon me, and calling me with a weake and piti∣full voice, Deare Solyman (said she) what a favourable shot was this, since in depriving me of my life, it hath taken away my feare of losing thee? As she ended these words, the bloud choaked her, and I (who thought I could not live without shame, did I not re∣renge the death of the father and the daughter) so provoked those which would have spar'd me, that they lost all respect, and left me for dead between Muley and Ennoramita. The Basha Aladin who commanded the forces of Argier, hearing that one onely Lady resisted a great many Turkes, sent word, they should beware of wronging me, and pre∣sently after came to see me; but he found me among the dead, and witnessing he was ex∣treame angry at it, would have had all those Souldiers undergoe the edge of the sword, whom he thought authors of my death. He drew neere, to see whether I were absolute∣ly dead, and perceiving in me some remainder of life, commanded his guard to take me up, and brought me into the chamber of the too generous Ennoramita. His extraor∣dinary care of me sav'd my life, and the warinesse wherewithall I conceal'd what I was, thriv'd so happily, that I was alwayes taken for a woman and so look'd after. The Turkes being absolute masters of the Towne, and not weeting from whence any force could come strong enough to trouble them in their conquest, gave themselves over to all kinde of liberty. But when they thought least on it, they were set on by a Cozen to the late King (called as himselfe) Muley Hassen, and whom the jealousies of State had ba∣nished into Mezila, which is on the confines of the Numidian deserts. That Prince understanding the devastation of his countrey, got together a great many Arabians, which usually frequented that Towne, and assembling all the souldier-like of Distef, of Necan, of Thefas, and of Thebessa, fell, unlooked for, into the City of Tunis, cut part of the Turkes in pieces, and compell'd the rest to retire shamefully to Argiers. Thither was I convay'd by the Basha's Eunuches, and so carefully garded, that when I strove to escape, I found all meanes depriv'd me, and all wayes shut up: but love who had brought me to this precipice found a way to draw me out againe. A little while after Aladin's re∣turne to Argier, the same Abdelmelec whom Almanzor lately slew, came thither with a glorious traine, and having treated about divers things with the Basha, acquir'd his love so farre as to live with him like a brother. The Basha desirous to give him an extraor∣dinary testimoniall of it, brought him one night into my chamber, and having given him time enough to looke on me; Her valour (said he) is no lesse rare then her beauty. Abdelmelec presently knew me, not for Iphidamantus, but for Cydaria; I knew him too, and instantly plotted to make use it; neverthelesse I feign'd as I had never seen him, and he did the like by me: We had besides liv'd long enough among the Turkes, to take no∣tice how suspicious they were, and how jealous of what they lov'd. Abdelmelec af∣ter he had dispatch'd all with the Basha, return'd to Morocco, and Aladin being call'd backe to Constantinople, made ready for a voyage that must cost him his life. The very

day Abdelmelec was to goe thence, a Blacke-Moore woman, who went for a foole in the Basha's house, coming (as she was wont to doe) into my chamber for my diversion, as she danc'd about, let fall at my feet a Cane which she held in her hand. By the signe she made to me, I presently understood by her letting it fall, there was somewhat in it; I therefore tooke it up, and keeping it in my hand till I was in bed, I broke it, (when my women were with-drawne) and found a paper with these words:

If the faire Ennoramita preferre not the inglorious servitude wherein she lives, before the honours which are assur'd her in Morocco, she will con∣tribute somewhat to the enterprise now in hand for her deliverance.

Ravisht with this advertisement, I spent the whole night waking, and did nothing but invent meanes to make good use of the occasion was offer'd me; I found no way better then to leave my selfe to be guided by those that labour'd for my liberty. Assoone therefore as it was day, I made this answer to the note I received:

To beleeve that a Captive delights in his irons, and refuseth an honoura∣ble liberty, is to suspect him of folly or stupidity: Who ere ye be chari∣table friends to the distressed, goe on in your designe, and expect from me all the assistance I owe my selfe.

This Ticket I put into one piece of the broken Cane, and when the Black-moore came againe, I threw it at her head: she tooke up both the pieces, and after she had sufficiently rail'd at me, went away. In almost eight dayes I heard no more newes of my foole, nor knew any thing of those which had promis'd to assist me: In the meane time the Basha gave order for his voyage, and so hastned all things, that he was ready to be gone fifteene dayes sooner then was thought on. The day of his departure being come, I leave you to imagine to what passe I was brought, I saw the furniture taken out of my chamber; I noted my being watch'd by almost twenty Eunuches, and seven or eight old women that seldome forsooke me; I perceiv'd my selfe ready to be ship'd and carried to Constan∣tinople. In this extremity, my resolution was (if all other help failed) to throw my selfe headlong into the sea. On the instant, some ill newes the Basha received from his friends at the Port, so astonished him, that he forgot his accustomed care of his Mistresse; and 'twas well seen by his perplexity and disquiet that the Divan made ready a strange wel∣come for him. Every one imbark'd in a hurry; they brought me to the haven, and al∣ready had I one foot in the skiffe that was to carry me to our gally, when some twenty or thirty men coming out of a backe creeke, with their Cymiters in their hands fell on the weake and fearfull troupe that were with me. They quickly dispersed my Eunuches and women, and having taken me, conveyed me into a Galliot, which lay close within the creeke. Presently the alarme was given on shore, and in the Basha's ship; every one cryed that Ennoramita was taken away, but their cryes were in vaine, for the little Gal∣ley wherein I was, sailing with an incomparable swiftnesse, quickly got out of sight of Aladin's ship, and the coast of Argier. I thought on nothing lesse then on my Ne∣gro, when she came and fell on my neck: she asked me whether those of her countrey had any wit, and whether she had not been cunning enough. I repli'd, her service deserv'd a good reward, and that, I did promise, with her liberty, so soone as I could get free my self. She answered me, that she had already in part received what I promised, and then falling to play with finger-knackers, and doing a many more fooleries, she put me off from thinking on matters of more consequence. My Galliot sailed into the straight, and yet I could not learne into whose hands I was falne; but entring the maine Ocean, I descried two ships which made up to ours. At a signe was given our Mariners by a cannon shot, they gave over rowing, and when the greatest was clos'd with us, they cast out a ladder to have me come aboard: I was received by Abdelmelec himselfe, who in his owne name and his fathers, made me such a welcome, and used me with such entertainment, that Cydaria is very unthankfull if she doe not one day acknowledge it. Cydaria, unwilling her bro∣thers jeasting should goe unanswered, You should (said she) have told Bajazet of it, for

(may be) he would then have done so much for my sake and your good friend Abdelme∣lec, that he should not have laine in so ill case as he now is; but be not you so incivill as not to render that Prince the ceremonies he did you. Iphidamantus going on againe: If (said he) I was well entertain'd by the sonne, I was not lesse but better by the father: Assooneas I landed, he came to welcome me with a preparation which might be compa∣red to a little triumph. The name of Ennoramita resounded every where, the flutes, the cymbals, and all other instruments of musicke used by the Africans, invited every bo∣dy to dances and other rejoycings. At first, I was (according to the custome of the coun∣trey) brought into those stately bathes which I have described to you, and put into the hands of some of those women which had before served me. From the bathes, I went into that famous closet, which was as a Temple consecrated to the Portraict of Cydaria. To the Portraict of Cydaria? said Almanzor, red either with jealousie or choler. How! by what meanes came Hely by it? By a way which I will tell you at more leasure replied Cydaria: He shall restore it (said Bajazet) or it shall cost him his life and the ruine of Morocco. All the company not disallowing this amorous agitation, Iphidamantus proceeded thus; Being then in that chamber all inlightned with gold and jewels, Hely, who had put on the habit of a young man, and painted himselfe to regaine what age had rob'd him of, came to see me, and us'd the same language he had done, the first time he mistooke me for Cydaria. In finishing his speech, he turned towards the Princesses picture, and pointing to it, See (said he) what hath preserved my life during your ab∣sence; when my griefe hath spent my spirits, and orecome my resolution, I had recourse to this faire picture, to refresh both the one and the other: I there found wherewithall to resist my longings, to keep my desires in vigour, and even wherewith to passe over your contempt and aversion. Heaven which knowes the innocency of my affection, after its triall by so many crosses, hath at last resolv'd to recompence it; give your consent to so just a decree, and disarming those eyes of their usuall disdaine, which never appeared milde to me but for my ruine, requite at least by some favourable aspect the long torments your beauty hath made me undergoe. The goodnesse of that Prince (which indeed de∣serv'd an acknowledgement) made me resolve to disdeceive him; I therefore besought him to give more credit to my words, then he had before-time, and to suspend a while that passion which had twice almost cost him his life, that he might so the better consult with reason, and no more contradict a knowne truth. He smil'd, and shooke his head when he heard me say so: I am very sorry (said I) that my misfortune in bringing me hither, makes you call to minde againe, a person, that doth but perpetuate your afflictions; could I have found any other way that might have freed me from mine enemies, how irksome soever, I would have attempted it rather then have had recourse to your assistance: Not, but that I am glad to be obliged to so great a Prince as your selfe, but owing you so much already, my conscience upbraides me every moment, that my resolution to cast my selfe againe into your hands, was the most ingratefull part could be acted. The reason is very forcible, I knew (it told me) your errour, and to bring into his sight againe, that fatall face which disturbs the peace of your age, was wittingly to continue you in it: but since it hath not been in my power to divert this inconvenience, I will stop the progresse of the mischiefe it workes, and freely tell you, I am the brother of that Ennoramita who is onely faire for your affliction. Ah (replied Hely) if you love me, I beseech you dis∣semble no more, for it will not worke the successe you hope by it. 'Tis not much lesse then a yeare, since you thought by such a device to cure me of my passion. But dear En∣noramita what got you by that cunning? Nothing but the augmenting my torments and almost the ending my dayes. If in lieu of humbly intreating you as I doe to be somewhat favourable unto me, it were permitted to make you some few upbraidings; in your con∣science should I have not have just cause to blame you for your flight? and being your owne judge, may I not accuse you, for putting your life and honour in hazard, rather then to indure the company of a Prince who hath had no other designe then to bestow both himselfe and his Crowne on you? Reflect (if you please) on all the misfortunes which seconded your flight; thinke on the dangers you have run, the slavery whereinto you have falne, and if your life be not considerable, thinke at least into what hazard you have engaged your honour: after that, (what mislike soever you have towards me) you

will be inforced to confesse that it had been farre more easie to beare with the afflictions of poore Hely. I see well (said I) there needs somewhat else then words to free you from those errours you have no minde to leave, exact from me therefore all that you can imagine most prevalent to give you an absolute manifestation of so important a truth; and at last plucke off the cause of your voluntary blindnesse. Hely lov'd so modestly and so respectfully, that fearing to offend me, he with-drew, and in going out of my chamber, told me, he rather desired to be miserable all his life, then once to contradict me: two or three dayes he left me in quiet, and though all his happinesse consisted in my fight, yet had he rather lose that contentment, then to run the fortune of displeasing me. At three dayes end, (whether he would or no) he returned to his former solicitations, but assoon as I spake of freeing him from his error, he flung away, and saw me not, or if he did, 'twas by some secret chinkes or holes which he had made in the walls of my chamber. In that manner did I live neere three moneths, and indeavoured to winne some one of the slaves which waited on me, to get me the apparell of a man, and some armes, and by his means free me from the hands of the senslesse old King. The Negro woman that came along with me, seemed to be fit for that purpose, but Hely had too much pleas'd her, for fearing the like turne she had plaid the Basha Aladin: I had no sooner then spoke to her of my escape, but she rudely chid me for it; and assuredly by her advertising the King of Moroc∣co, I was more strictly garded then before A few dayes after this milde detention, I under∣stood, that all the Court was in an uprore, and that a great many sail of ships were disco∣vered at the mouth of the River of Tensif: This allarme increasing by the arrivall of some Embassadours, Hely came to me one evening, and delivering me a paper; Read this (said he) and afterward (if you can) perswade me that you are not Ennoramita. I tooke the long Scroll, and if my memory deceive me not, there was written in it, thus:

BAJAZET Generall of the Pirates, to HELY King of Morocco.

HAd I not farre more regard to what I owe my selfe, then I have in considering those violences wherewithall the unrulinesse of thy passions dishonours the later yeares of thy life, I would not solicite thee (as I doe) by Embassadours; but instantly imploy the justice of my armes to compell thee, by a severe chastisement to a repentance of thy crimes. Thou shouldst blush Hely, to have in thine old age those raging agitati∣ons, which are not allowed to young men, but that nature permits them not to be wiser; not that I declare my selfe against love, or by an indiscretion too common, blame that in another, which I thinke honourable in my selfe: I disallow such vices, which to be ap∣proved of, insolently put on the face of vertue: I utterly condemne all impurity, and I abhorre all disordinate affections and violences. In a word, I detest that madnesse by whose intemperance thou treatest like a slave a Princesse, that can raise in armes all Eu∣rope and Africa, for the subversion of thy tyranny. For mine owne part, who am the meanest of those which have dedicated their armes and lives to her service, I here protest to avenge her oppressed innocencie, if my Embassadours have not perswasion sufficient to prevent thine owne destruction, and give liberty to so many Princes as are fetter'd in the same irons wherein the faire Ennoramita is enthralled.

After I had read this Declaration of Bajazet, I cast mine eyes on Hely, and thinking to give him such counsell as he would not neglect; It shall not cost much (said I) the preven∣ting those disasters which threaten you, send me to Bajazet, it may be his affection will make him as cleere sighted as your selfe, and winne him to beleeve he hath found what he sought, when I am once in his hands. Rather cri'd Hely, let our great Mahomet perish from the memorie of the living, let me rather see mine Empire desolate, and the misera∣ble Hely crushed under the ruines of his Palace! With that he left me, and his naturall quicknesse rekindling I know not what remainder of fire in his frozen veines, he call'd for his armes, and denying to heare Bajazet's Embassadours any further, gave command

they should presently depart from Morocco. Those Rovers accustomed to cast forth their andacious threatnings, storm'd & thundred even within Morocco against her own King; and one of them throwing downe his Cymetar in the market place, I vow (said he to those that were about him) never to weare any againe, till I see my selfe and my Companions Masters of this City. This threate affrighted part of the Spectators, and gave the bold Pirate a brave passage through the astonish'd people. Assoone as Bajazet understood how his Embassadors had beene treated, he call'd his Councell, and desirous more and more to engage the Pirates in his designes, 'Tis no more (said hee) my sole interest that obliegeth you to besiege Morocco. 'Tis the honour of your former actions that calls you to its protection. The insolence of this barbarous King hath of a private quarrell made a publique injury. You are all wronged in the persons of your companions. Your honour, of which they were deposi∣taries in the qualities of your Embassadors, complaines of it by me, askes you Justice for Helie's impudency, and accounts you unworthy to live if instantly you run not to be avenged. The Pirates animated by so powerfull a speech, all at once swore the ruine of Morocco, and without delay came in a wonderfull order to land on both sides the towne. The Cavalry which was fallied would have opposed their landing, but the Ro∣vers artillery thundring among the Squadrons, soone left the shoare free. If Bajazet could indure to heare his owne praises, I would tell you how valour and Judgement wholly possessing him, triumph'd both on the power and wiles of Hely. The very first day the City was block'd up, and in lesse then fifteene more, (contrary to the generall opinion) it was so inclos'd, that even the Arabians, which make their way any where, were not cunning enough to get in. I will not relate to you the many brave combats were had during the two first months siege. I will onely speake of what concernes my selfe. The City was hard laid to, and the most part of the Inhabitants wanting what was necessary to maintaine life, murmur'd against Hely's folly, and spoake aloud, that 'twas fit to drive from the towne that secret plague which would quickly wholly ruine them. For my part I besought Hely to bethinke himselfe, to stop the torrent of the publique calamities, and not to hazard his people, his Crown, and his life for an extra∣vagancy. To these remonstrances, he was as deafe as he had beene to others, and said, that if he had not taken armes for my defence, yet would he have done it, to correct a company of theeves, who for sport sake were come to offend him. When I saw I could do no good on the old man, I sent for Abdelmelec, and told him, I held my selfe guilty of his Countries ruine, and the losse of his father, if I conceal'd any longer from him a thing that might put an end to the warre. Know therefore (said I) that I am not Ennoramita or rather Cydaria. I am Iphidamantus her brother; and Nature hath made us so like, that in many places where fortune hath led us, we have beene taken one for another. What I say is so easie to be proved, that you may instantly cleere the doubt. Give me such a habit as I ought to weare, bring me armour and before night I will shew you my actions shall not be those of a maiden. When you shall be so farre assur'd, I will go to Bajazet, and obliege him by my armes, or intreaty to acknowledge his error, and not to doe an injustice out of a desire to resent an injury. Abdelmelec shew'd a great deale of judgement and courage in his answer. I beleeve (said he) that you are Iphidamantus rather then Ennoramita, and aske no other proofes of it then those you gave at Tunis. If the King my father thinke it fit, I am of opinion you should be set at liberty, but shall never consent to your going to the Generall of the Pirates for an end of the siege. We have beene too much wrong'd, to hearken to an accommoda∣tion. We have beene beaten, and are so daily; 'tis fit we should have our turne too on our enemies, and repell by force the insolence of these theeves. I speake not this to hinder you from prosecuting your inclination. If the Generall of the Pirates be your friend, I advise you to do that which friendship expects from you. I will engage my self to give you clothes, armes, and horses, and to conduct you safely into his Campe. But assoone as you shall be there, I will hold you as one of my enemies; and in such occasi∣ons as the warre shall offer us, I thinke we have no consideration of one another. Ab∣delmelec (said I) your generousnesse makes me go from my proposition. I will speake

to you no more of peace or Bajazet; but expect for whom the chance of war will declare it self. For mine owne part, I sweare to you to thinke on no mans interest but yours, to vanquish or die with you; and betide what may, not to forsake you, till the death of one of us dispence with my promise. Assoone as I had made this Declaration, Abdelmelec imbraced me, and witnessing his resentment of my profers, I now (said he) beleeve indeed that you are a man, for your resolution cannot come but from a masculine heart. But keepe this businesse secret, that my fathers humourousnesse crosse it not: The next day Abdelmelec sent me clothes and armes, and both of us making use of the occasions offered by Hely's sudden sicknesse, wee made di∣vers sallies, in all which I went by the name of the unknowne Knight. I should be very vaine-glorious if I told you my presence rais'd againe the affaires of Mo∣rocco; but since you command mee to relate my adventures, I will not conceale my fighting so happily in divers conflicts, that Bajazet was constrained to recall the troupes hee had lodg'd on the side of Fez, and towards mount Atlas, as well to hinder any succour from the Moores, as to oppose the incursions of the Arabi∣ans. Wee seldome sallied but wee brought in prisoners or much incommodated Ba∣jazet's Campe. When a companie is reduced to the like extremitie as those of Mo∣rocco were, there needs no such wonders to be done for the getting a reputation a∣mong them. By this meanes, the unknowne Knight made himselfe so famous in so short a time, that his name came to the eares of the ficke King. He would needs see mee, and Abdelmelec must bring me to him, even with the hazard of being no more unknowne. But sicknesse had so altered the good old Kings senses, that he neither knew me by word or countenance. Many times hee imbraced me, and cal∣ling mee the tutelar Angell of Morocco, sent at need by his great Prophet, intrea∣ted the taking into my protection the safety of his people; and to expect from Abdelmelec those acknowledgements which death might perchance hinder him from rendring mee. I gave him many thankes for his profers and well-wishes, and told him, I hop'd his age would not alwayes be crossed, but that Heaven reser∣ved for him a peacefull and contented issue out of all his troubles: in the meane time I advised Abdelmelec to send to Fez for succour. But Granada's desolation, and the mortalitie or exile of that Kingdomes Subjects (before-time so flourishing) had so abated all the Moores courages, that they were farre more miserable in A∣frica then they had beene in Spaine. Their misfortune was still in their sight; they thought continually Ferdinand and Isabell were imbarking for Africa, and that great name of Cardinall of Spaine was a perpetuall cause of astonishment and feare. They still privately sent us victualls, and in such plenty, that from thence∣forward the Citizens of Morocco beleeved Bajazet would be inforced to raise his Siege. Some little time after, one of our Spies, (ill informed, as most common∣ly are such kinde of people) gave notice, that Bajazet was re-inforced by a migh∣ty succour, under the command of one of the prime Basha's belonging to the Grand-Signior. Thereupon Abdelmelec and my selfe resolved to make a power∣full sally, to discover their new aide, and know whether it were compos'd of Turkes or Africans. There was not in all the Siege so brave a conflict as at that time; we were in fight from morning till night; Abdelmelec incountred Baja∣zet, and I (not knowing him) buckled with my benefactor Achomat. Night onely severed us, after the losse of more then two thousand men on both sides. At last, wearied with the Siege, and perceiving the succours from Fez failing us; we must render our selves to their mercy, I got Abdelmelec to a resolution of determi∣ning all by a Duell. Wee therefore sent our Defye to Bajazet and Achomat, which they accepted; and each party being agreed on the conditions, we waited with equall impatience for the day on which this great difference was to be decided. Two dayes since I sent an intelligent Spy into Bajazet's Campe, and commanded him not to returne till hee knew certainly who the Basha was with whom I was to change blowes: last night he came backe, and related, that being stolne into Achomats Tents, he had learnt who he was, and for what cause he was come to the Siege

of Morocco: This newes so surpris'd me, that when Abdelmelec this morning came into my chamber, to conduct mee to the place appointed for our Combate, he found me still in my bed. He began to chide me for my sloath, and imbracing me with a great deale of love; Deare Iphidamantus (said hee) I have long time wished for this day: 'Twill tell mee what shall be my fortune, and one way or other, I promise to my selfe before night, I shall have no more to long for. Whilst hee talked thus, I got ready, and arm'd me; not for my defence, but to oblige Achomat to take his revenge of mee, and to hide my designe from the Prince of Morocco. You know (without doubt) this daye's successe, and how farre happier it hath beene to mee then Abdelmelec; I will therefore trouble you no further. Thus Iphidamantus ended the relation of his strange and sad Ad∣ventures.

The end of the first Book of the fourth Part of Polexander.

THE FOURTH PART OF POLEXANDER. The second Booke.

IPhidamantus left his Auditors in such an admiration of the won∣ders he had related, that they were a while unable to breake off that silence they had kept during his discourse: At last Almanzaira spoke, who not being fully satisfied, though she had her eyes fixed on that sonne she so tenderly loved, would need make him speake, that her soule as well charmed by the eare as by the eye, might re∣ceive all the contentment it was capable of. After Iphidamantus narration (said she) addressing her to her deare Almanzor, It is not hard to guesse at the cause which caus'd you make warre on the King of Morocco. Never∣thelesse, I thinke you will much pleasure the company, and particularly the King your father, if you will relate to him to me of the most remarkable accidents of your life, and in particular, th•…•…se which be•…•…ided you, 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 Love made you change the condition of a slave for that of a 〈◊〉〈◊〉. •…•…et, (unable 〈◊〉〈◊〉 refuse any thing to so good a mother, and marking besides that the 〈◊◊◊◊◊〉〈◊◊◊◊◊〉 Princesses were on him, and joyn'd their requests with Almanz•…•… 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 began to •…•…nt his Adventures. The sole misfor∣tune at my birth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 having 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 〈◊◊◊〉〈◊◊◊〉 my 〈◊〉〈◊〉, pluck'd mee out of the armes of the Queene my 〈◊◊◊◊〉〈◊◊◊◊〉 •…•…e (at least in appearance) lose the love of the best father living; I regained in 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 and fidelity of Almaid, part of that which fortune had forced from 〈◊◊◊〉〈◊◊◊〉 related how he had been brought up by the King and Queene of Be•…•…, and 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 other particulars you have read in the three former parts of this Story. When 〈◊◊◊〉〈◊◊◊〉 the occasion that made Iphidaman∣tus goe from the Pirates Isle, he cast his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Cydaria, and beseeching her humbly to be pleas'd, he might acquaint the company to what extremities his affection had brought him, thus prosecuted his History. When I was left alone (for so I may say I was after the departure of Iphidamantus) there was nothing that hindered me from continually meditating on the losse of Cydaria: she had been constantly in my thought, but she was never so there, as she was then. I fell into such impatiencies as no consideration could moderate, and though I had put on a resolution to expect in quiet Hydaspes and Almaid's returne, yet was I tempted to abandon the Generall-ship of the Rovers, and put my selfe againe in quest of Cydaria. After three moneths absence, Hydaspes returning, he inti∣mated that he had sail'd along all the coasts of Africa, landed in all the principall ma∣ritime Townes, searched all the Isles from the Cape of good Hope, even to Denmarke, and all in vaine. Imagine what griefe this generall ignorance of the world cast on me, and to what extraordinary meanes it made me run, to know at least whether Cydaria were alive or no: I confesse I refused none, and meeting (among our Pirates) with an Italian, which brag'd of his great familiarity with Spirits, I press'd him to consult with them for me, and to learne what I was to expect for the future: he promis'd to satisfie

my curiosity within three dayes, and indeed, at the houre appointed, he came and led me to the mos•…•… •…•…ncouth and dreadfull place in all our Island; hee brought me under a rocke which could be no fit receptacle for any but for Spirits, and lighting five branches of Pine with a tinder-box he had brought, and laying them on a little table before which he had spread a sheet, told me, I should see passe along betweene the lights and the sheet such figures, as should truly represent to me the good or ill successe of my designes. I stood very earnestly heedfull, not to lose any one of the apparitions, and presently saw a sea covered with many ships, and a land-skip very little differing from that about Mo∣rocco. In the midst of that Countrey description, I saw a City besieg'd both by land and sea: After many conflicts, I noted one, wherein a Knight having often changed his arms and cloathes, sometimes seem'd to me a m•…•…n, and sometimes a woman. At last he drew very neere to me, and •…•…ttering somewhat which I understood not, presented to me a picture which I instantly knew to be the lively portraict of Cydaria. Whilst I was ra∣vished with that object, a thicke cloud rob'd me of it, and presently I heard, or at least thought I heard some deafe sounds, and plaintive lamentations which bewailed the death of a father, a daughter, and a lover. Those complaints were no sooner ended, but di∣vers peales of thunder coming from a farre off, broke over the besieged City, and ore∣whelmed under its ruines the most of them that were within and without: in a moment, I saw the sheet cover'd with dead bodies, at which sight I was st•…•…en with an extreame feare for my Princesse. Whilst I sought for her amongst the dead, I saw her come from the sea side all sad and desolate, making signes to mee, to forsake so dismall a place: wherewithall▪ all those figures vanished, and I found my selfe so weary, and so little sa∣tisfied in my curiosity, that I went thence with a resolution, never to have any so ill a∣gaine: Neverthelesse, not knowing what to conceive of such things as I had seene, I did some while neglect them; but by little and little feare making them passe for truths, melancholy made them more horrible then they were. I thought I should be suddenly besieg'd in mine Isle; and after my being kill'd in some Combate, my vanquisher would bring me to see Cydaria againe; I meane, that being dead, I should goe againe to meet with the shade of that faire Princesse: So blacke a fancy having long time roll'd up and downe my imagination, I held for certaine that Cydaria was dead, and that beliefe made such an alteration in my health, that by little and little; I lost the strength which I had recover'd after my last sicknesse, and I fell into a languishing, that made mee undergoe for three moneths together, more cruell deaths then death it selfe. I had no more left then my speech and my sight when Almaid arriv'd, and knowing well there was but one way to save me, he was no sooner come but he put it in triall: hee therefore related that he had seen Cydaria, and how the King of Morocco forcing her from Tunis, had brought her to his Court, but so guarded, that it might at once •…•…e said, she was a Queene and a prisoner: So good an information had all the effect Almaid could promise himselfe. The desire to free that Princesse, and my jealousie of the King of Morocco, surmounting my weaknesse, and staying my continuall faintings, I presently design'd •…•…n African warre; to that end, I sent for the Captaines of the Pirates, and making knowne to them the abatement of my sicknesse and my intention, they ingaged themselves to serve me, and to dispose their companions to that expedition. They fail'd not of their pro∣mises; the next day was their Assembly call'd, and all things passing therein according to my wish, some were deputed to me to let me understand all their resolutions: two dayes after, I went into their quarters to thanke them, and perceiving their affection, I ap∣pointed the generall musters to be the day following when all the Army was at the place destin'd for the like actions, I came out of the Fort with my Principall Officers, and ta∣king a review of al the battalions, I stepped up into the place whence I was wont to speak to them: I made knowne to the Rovers my resentment of the last proofe of their affecti∣on, and when I would have come to the point, and excited them to warre through the hope of booty, they shut my mouth with their acclamations and clapping of hands. Which done, they drew their swords, and holding them over their heads, began to cry out, that I should lead them whither I listed, that they had no other will then mine, and that they would alwayes value my content beyond their owne profit. I returned thence to the Fort so satisfied with their conformity, that the remainder of my melancholy and

my weaknesse gone on a sudden, I found my self in better case then I had been all my life: Almaid, (desirous to raise my joy to the height) told me, I was not the •…•…nne of Abrin∣zias and Andromeda, but of Zabaim and Almanzaira, and spent part of the night in re∣counting to me particularly those accidents from mine infancy, whereof I was ignorant. Assoone as he had ended his pleasing narration, I promis'd him to returne to Senega, and casting my selfe at the feet of the King my father, to beseech his pardon for my extrava∣gant actions; but my duty and honour obliging me to put a period to Cydaria's teares, before I gave any beginning to mine owne quiet: I imbark'd two dayes after, and arriv'd at Morocco, so, as Iphidamantus hath related. Thus ended Bajazet, and presently Za∣baim and Almanzaira retir'd into their ship; Cydaria and Melicerta abode in their own, in company of their Lovers: For Polexander and Achomat, they caus'd themselves to be wasted to shore, and mounting on horsebacke, came to the camp a little before day∣breake. They enquired of what had pass'd in their absence, and understanding there was an extraordinary silence in the beleaguer'd City, imagined that Hely was fled thence, and the Citizens would no longer hold out. This opinion made them resolve for bed, to take that rest which their enemies gave them. They slept as long as their disquiets would give them leave, and awaking after many interrupted slumbers, went to Iphidamantus and Almanzor, who loath to trouble them, were walking before their tents: thence they went all foure, whither the Lawes of war call'd them, and having sent divers Cavaliers even to the gates of Morocco, and seeing no man come out to charge them, they were confirm'd in their opinion, that there was not any of defence left within the City. After they had made the round of the Entrenchments, and given fitting orders, they return'd towards the river, and went aboard Zabaim's ship. where they found Cydaria and Meli∣certa with Almanzaira, and forgetting all their warlike humour, made appeare by their civilities and discourse, that they were no lesse pleasant then invincible. Zabaim inquir'd of the state of the Siege, and understanding how 'twas, intreated those Princes to send and offer peace to the King of Morocco, and not tie him to conditions unworthy his birth and courage. Bajazet promis'd to send an Herald that very day, and to treate him as a King; in the meane time, their dinner being brought in, the Princes and Princesses set them at table, and after their repast, Achomat was intreated by the rest to recount the particulars of his life, which fame had divulg'd for something more then the ordinary life of men. The Basha blush'd at those prayses, and when he was resettled; If (said he) I durst dispence with your command, I would (surely during a time of victory and joy) keep me from intertaining you with a subject so mournfull and unfortunate as is the de∣stiny of Achomat: But since you desire by that recitall to moderate your contentment, for feare their excesse may be somewhat irksome, I will tell you, that I come from the most unfortunate linage that ever was adorn'd with the ornaments of Soveraignty. An unfortunate father begot a more unfortunate sonne, and that to be bewailed sonne be∣coming a father, to perpetuate the miseries of his house, gave life to two Princesses, which without a wonder could not be but most wretchedly unhappy. Achomat, by this preface, having prepar'd the mindes of his Auditors for things so infinitely tragi∣call, briefly related the same disasters which Melicerta had made knowne to Polexander and Cydaria, and after he had repeated the losse of his daughters and Iphidamantus flight, thus he proceeded: The victorious Emperour of the Levant, no sooner heard that Solyman had forsaken the Army, but he thought (like a second Castriot) he was re∣volted to the Christians, to avenge him of his long slavery, and the death of his father; thereupon he sent for me, to make knowne his resentment, and take on such resolutions as were answerable to the greatnesse of his indignation. I did what I was possible to moderate his fury, and retard the fearfull desolations wherewithall he threatned the Christians. No, no, (said he) since those dogs neither regard the mildnesse under which they live in mine Empire, nor the power I have to ruine them, they shall feele how fear∣full my corrections are: They have rob'd me of Solyman, as they did the great Monarch (to whom I owe my life) of the ingratefull and perfidious Scanderbeg: And they shall feele too, that mine arme is no lesse redoubtfull then great Amurath's. Let's doe more (my deare Achomat) and not be satisfi'd by the ruine of a part of the guilty, but on with fire and sword to the laying waste of all Christendome; and by an universall ruine, raise

our vengeance farre above the injurie we have received from them. After the Sultan had spoke thus, he commanded I should bestir me for the execution of his commands; I retir'd without replying, yet with an intent to mollifie his rage, and turne away from over the heads of so many Innocents the dreadfull thunder which threatned them: but fortune presently gave me cause to follow that Princes inclination, and (if I dare say it) to inspire him yet with farre more cruell ones. I was no sooner entred my tent, but Postes came and presented me letters from my deare and desolate Rozelana; by them I understood, how Histeria and Melicerta were stolne out of her Seraglio, and to follow Solyman whom they passionately lov'd (as a Jewesse informed her) had disguis'd them∣selves in the habits of men, and been ship'd away with the Proponticke troupes. Ima∣gine the height of my sorrow, my shame and rage: I tore my haire, rent my clothes, and curs'd my birth: I even storm'd at Heaven, and thence ask'd reason for the rigour of it's judgement; as if my conscience had not incessantly upbraided me for my parricide, and the daily denying my ransomer in the Mosquo of his adversary. After I had ven∣ted all manner of blasphemies and imprecations, I read againe the incomparable Ro∣zelana's letter, and finding at the end, that she besought me to have pitie on her daugh∣ters, and to regaine them from the hands of their ravisher; Yes (said I) faire Princesse, thou shalt be obeyed; the traitor Solyman shall not glut his bestiall desires without just punishment; this very hand which deign'd to give him his first nourishment, shall not be afraid to force his dearest life from him. With this resolution I went to the Empe∣rour, and casting my selfe at his feet, Sir, (said I) I come to aske your Justice on the in∣gratefull Solyman; he hath not onely violated in the person of your Majestie, but in those of the Princesses your Grand-children, those so holy and inviolable Lawes which command us to adore the bloud of the Ottomans: he hath rob'd me of Melicerta and Histeria, and that mercilesse snake which I have bred in mine owne bosome to kill me, more then once, hath stung me in all those parts where he thought his sting would be deadly. Justice askes from your thunder-darting-hand the punishment of this monster, but what said I? No my Lord, profane not your blowes in avenging me on that cai∣tiffe; he hath questionlesse perpetrated this act, to make himselfe renowned by the cor∣rection he expects from your royall hand: but command this unfortunate father to cha∣stise him, and give not that thiefe time to finde a Sanctuarie where his crimes may be victorious and at quiet. That traitour shall die for't (replied the Emperour) in what place soever of the world he hath made his retreate; Goe Achomat, goe, whither our common griefes call thee; and by prodigious chastisements, teach the Christians, that though many treasons prove happy, yet the traitours are continually miserable. By these words, the Sultan having given me command to dispose of his Armie, I staid some few dayes to let him know the severall enterprises I had on Italie. When he had fixed on that, which he imagined to be the most glorious and easie, he prescribed me the or∣der for execution; and some few dayes after, leaving the Towne and coasts of Lepanto all waste, he tooke the way of Constantinople with onely fifteen Gallies: the next day I set saile, and with forty thousand fighting men, landed at Calaurea; presently I won the Towne of Cariatha, and made my exceeding furie be felt, not onely by men, but even of women and children. All indifferently passed by the sword or fire, and I make no question but all Italie had been the prey of my victorious Armie, if the love I bare my daughters had not made me forget what I owed to Bajazet's affection. Among the sea faring men that were taken about Calaura, there was a Pilot, who seeing himself at the point of losing his life, told them that had laid hands on him, he had somewhat to say to me of more importance (for my owne particular) then the conquest of Italie: though they beleev'd him not, yet for feare of an errour, they brought him to me; I make no doubt (said he to me presently) but that the losse of Solyman Basha, i•…•… the principall cause of your voyage; and to get him againe, you would even give part of your life: you may be satisfied at a lower rate; grant but to a wretch (who hath not offen∣ded but by compulsion) a life, which he will preserve for your service, and he will guid you to Solyman. I made the Pilot arise, and promising him farre more then he had de∣sired, I understood how Solyman was gotten away, and whither he was gone, but I could heare nothing of my daughters. The love of revenge made me resolve to for∣sake

mine Army, and to goe alone where Solyman resided: I therefore reimbarked all my troupes as speedily as I could, and leaving with the Generall at sea, a letter directed to the Sultan, for his approbation of my action, I steer'd towards the Canaries. I heard in the Isle of Teneriff, that Solyman (whom they call'd Iphidamantus) had been there al∣most a moneth with Polexander, but was gone thence fifteene dayes past; and to heighten my affliction, they told me he was put to sea againe in quest of a Turkish Princesse which he had lost: hereupon I presently left Teneriff, and without inquiring after Solyman in the other Islands, repassed the straights, and sought him under a strange name and habit in a thousand places of France, Spaine, and Italie. After a yeare spent in those voyages, I put me againe into the Ocean, and about a moneth since, by good hap, I met on the coasts of Fez, a skiffe, in which there was none but Moores and Granadians: I inquired newes of the Countrey, and understood that Morocco was besieg'd by the Pirates of Cape Verd, and was defended by Abdelmelec, and a Knight which call'd himselfe the unknown Knight. I got him to describe that Knight to me, and assoone as I heard of his exceed∣ing comelinesse and valour, I imagined it was Solyman. The next day I came into Baja∣zet's Campe, and concealing the true cause of my coming, feign'd others to him probable enough to take away all suspition he might have of me: he us'd me after his manner, that was with incomparable civilities, and offering me the command of his Army, made me repent my dissimulation. With an extraordinary freenesse he declar'd to me the cause which had ingaged him to this Siege, and by that Declaration, wip'd off all my griefe for the dissembling mine owne businesse; for I leave it to your thoughts, to what hee had been obliged, had he once knowne I sought his Mistresses brother of purpose to kill him. I waited therefore (without discovering my selfe) the occasion of seeing Solyman with his sword in his hand. Yesterday it happened as you have heard, indeed the successe was not such as I hoped, but so, as I was to expect from that eternall Mercy, which by an in∣comprehensible wisdome, out of the greatest ills produceth the greatest happinesses. Thus Achomat ended the recitall of his fortunes, and fill'd the hearts of his Auditors with so much pity, that even the most contented there, were for that time incapable of feeling their owne happinesse. This converse had lasted longer, had it not been disturb'd by a great noise which came from the land, and by an allarme given as well in the ships as in the campe. Bajazet and Achomat knowing how necessary their presence was in the like occasions, tooke leave of the company; Polexander and Iphidamantus followed them, after they had intreated Zabaim not to forsake the Princesses: They got to the Camp be∣fore Bajazet had got together againe the troupes which the enemy had driven out of the trenches. Polexander's arrivall inspiring the valour, nay the temerity of the most cowards, all the Pirates went on furiously against the besieged, and after a conflict which lasted farre within night, forc'd them to retire for shelter behinde their bastions. The foure Princes were much troubled to know who had animated the enemy with that bold resolution, when they brought them thirty or forty prisoners: A Knight among them of a very brave aspect, making way through his companions, stopp'd before Bajazet, and thus spoke to him: I am of the Princes of Granada, and the eldest of the Abinzeragues, which have surviv'd the ruine of their Countrey. The unfortunate Boabdilez not in∣during the slavery of his people, nor the pride of his conquerours, hath lately left Spaine, and passed into Africa with all the remainder of his forces. Ten thousand Moorish Knights, and forty thousand of his Subjects have followed his fortune, and found a safe retreate in the goodnesse of the King whom you so much injure, without any wrong done you. The miseries from whence we but newly came, had so quell'd the courages of our most hardy souldiers, that finding themselves to enjoy some quiet in the places appointed them by the King of Morocco, they could not till now resolve to the ta∣king on their armour: But the King my Master, asham'd to see that Prince running the hazard of being ruin'd, who had sav'd him, got to horse with a hundred of his Knights, and stirring from place to place, to incite the Granadians to the defence of their Prote∣ctor, so urg'd them, that they forsooke their wives and children, and under the conduct of the King himselfe, fortunately cast themselves into Morocco. Boabdilez and Hely thought it fit, that to honour the succours, I should sally with some troupes and some∣what trouble you, which I instantly obeyed; and my act had been very fortunate, if the

end had answered the beginning: that which I have more to say, is this; If you are sti∣mulated as much by your generousnesse as valour, after your overcoming me, you will doe the like on my adverse fortune, and send me backe to the King my Master, since you will not have much to boast on in detaining, that had so little honour in taking me. That mischance which cast me under my horse, is to have all the glorie of my being pri∣soner; let not that vaunt of it, or dare share in your actions, for which you should be beholding to none but your owne vertue. Bajazet would gladly that Polexander and the two other Princes had answered the prisoner, but thinking it not fit to treate them with so much ceremonie; he did what was fit, and resuming the principall points of the Abinzerrago's speech; The King (said he) whom you have justly tearm'd unfortunate, should not beleeve that my companions and my selfe have so little courage as to suffer the injurie he hath done us. We had nought to decide with him, nor had our actions given him any pretext to denounce warre against us; yet comes he to crosse our de∣signes, and beget to himselfe enemies, in a time when he hath need of Protectors: hee shall feele how powerfull they are, and finde in Africa conquerours, no lesse cruell then Ferdinand and Isabella. You thinke to justifie what he hath done, in publishing, that honour compell'd him to assist the King of Morocco, and without failing in the most just resentment that can be among men, he could not denie him aid. I cannot beleeve him so acknowledging to a stranger, since so poorely abandoning the defence of his Countrie, he both witnessed his ingratitude to his owne Subjects and to himselfe. The Abinzerrague gave an extraordinarie ejaculation to hinder Bajazet from going on in his speech, and forcing himselfe out of the hands of those that held him: Command (said he to Bajazet) command them to kill me, and give over to treate a King so unworthi∣ly, who though extreamly unfortunate, and utterly ruin'd as he is, yet remaines a King still. With that he flew at a partisan, and in the furie he was, had certainly kill'd him∣selfe, but Bajazet seiz'd on his arme, and after he had disweapon'd him, promis'd, in regard of his generousnesse, thenceforward he would forgive Boabdilez weaknesse. To repaire the fault I have commitied (said he) I set you at libertie; but on condition, that to morrow you make appeare to us whether you are worthie the favour you have re∣ceiv'd. Returne therefore to Morocco, and tell Hely that my good fortune hath re∣stor'd the treasure he had stolne from me. That the faire Ennoramita hath regain'd the libertie he restrain'd her of, and but for that Princesses picture which he keeps with∣out her consent, I had already rais'd the Siege, and made appeare by my retreate, that I came not to oppresse the weake, but to chastise the oppressors. Let him therefore be sure that neither my selfe nor my companions will stirre hence, till he hath given us that fatall picture; since it cannot be in his keeping, but we must (one way or other) thinke the divine Ennoramita to be still a prisoner. I adde another condition to this, and 'tis, that Boabdilez depart presently out of Morocco, with all those he brought into it, and returne to the place whence he came; to the end, the honour we have acquir'd receive no diminution, and that all the world may know, the sole love of justice, and not the feare of enemies, hath made us forgoe a more certaine conquest. The Abin∣zerrague either affrighted or ravished with Bajazet's courage, thank'd him with a great deale of submission, for the libertie he had restor'd him, and promised faithfully to de∣liver to the two Kings the conditions of peace which he had propos'd to him. The Moore was then safely conducted to the gates of Morocco; at his entrance met the two Kings, who thinking he had been slaine, were preparing for a shamefull flight. Whilst by his coming he resettled those affrighted and timerous soules, and yet amazed them with the conditions presented from the besiegers; our foure Princes returned to Zabaim's ship, and there found the Princesses who had passed the afternoone in those ap∣prehensions which accompanie love and favour. The Heroes returne having restor'd to their mindes thir former quiet, and the recitall of their conflict filling them with admiration; Polexander who affected all occasions whereby he might extoll Bajazet, I must confesse (said he) that Almanzor surpasseth in the art of well-loving all those which to this day have gone for the most perfect lovers in the world. He is not content with the depriving the King of Morocco for ever, of ever reviewing Cydaria, but will even have away her picture, and as if he were jealous of the frivolous pleasure which a

portaiture may give his Rivall, hath sent him word, that he must resolve either to send him that picture, or to be buried under the ruines of his City. With that Almanzaira began, and said, the extremity was ill, and 'twas to he feared lest the eternall Justice grew weary of permitting those youthfull offences. Cydaria contrived the discourse, and casting her selfe at the feete of the King and Queene of Senega, humbly besought them, in this occasion to shew the power they had over Almanzor, and not permit a resolution which for an imaginary good might bring on a certaine mischiefe. Melicerta was of her opinion, but Zabaim rejected it as proofes of their Sexes fearefulnesse, and the two brothers intending not to crosse a thought so conformall with their owne, en∣treated Bajazet not to let himselfe be overcome by the onely perswasions of Ladies. After these pleasant contestations the Princes and Princesses set themselves to table, and spent part of the night in the sweetnesse of their incomparable communication. A little before midnight Polexander and the three other Princes, fearing some new Sallyes, tooke leave of Zabaim and the Ladies and came to the Campe. They had not beene long there, where the Moores desirous to regaine by force what force had got from them, fell on the workes that were most advanc'd, and cutting the throats of the Guard, cloy'd twenty pieces of Cannon, fired their powder, and retired with very little losse. This successe raising their courage, and dissipating their feare of the Pirates valour, they grew perswaded, that if they offered them battle they would compell the Rovers to a shamefull reimbarking. Hely and Boabdilez suffered themselves to be blinded as well as their Subjects with the flash of this adventure, and egg'd on by the Abinzerrague, resolv'd in full earnest to come to handy blowes, and force the Pirates to raise their siege. To that end, the two Kings (alike unworthy their condition) sent a Herauld to Bajazet, and to revenge by an extreame contempt the small esteeme Bajazet had made of them in the presence of the Abinzerrague, they commanded the Herauld to speake to him as to a thiefe; That Officer, who with his milke, had suck'd the insolencie na∣turall to the Moores, came to Bajazet, whom he found in his Tent with Polexander, Achomat and Iphidamantus. He presented himselfe before him with a pride worthy of laughter, and without asking leave to deliver what he had in charge: I come, said he to Bajazet, from the great King of Fez, Morocco and Trevisan. I command thee in his name, that within foure and twenty howres thou depart from these coastes; and since the unworthinesse of so many Kings whom thou hast engaged in thy robberies, give thee forces and retreates in lieu of prosecuting thee as a publique enemy; Go on; and on the Seas pillage such unfortunate Merchants as cannot defend themselves. But if thou wilt not have a hangman to avenge all Africa for so many murders and thefts wherewithall thou hast even made her desolate, take heed how thou set'st foote againe on the Territories of the King my Master. Bajazet shew'd a great deale of moderation during his insolent Speech, and even preserv'd it when he was oblieg'd to answer. At last (said he to the Herauld) judge how farre my Companions and my selfe are from those violences which the King thy Master upbraids us withall. Returne, and tell him that scorning his injuries and force, we will not part hence till wee have reduc'd his whole City into cinders, if he doe not speedily come with the portracture of Ennora∣mita, and on his knees aske the lives of his subjects and a pardon for his insolencies. The Herauld seeing what fortune he was to run, for his too much impudence, made a very low reverence to the Princes, and retir'd so extreamly affrighted that when he was got within the gates of Morocco he thought himselfe not free from the hands of the hang∣men. The answer he made to the King his Master in the presence of the King of Gra∣nada, fill'd them both with feare and astonishment. But the Abinzerrague, and the other Moorish knights promising them to bring Bajazet alive or dead, and to cut the throate even of the last Pirate, made them at last consent to a battle. All the day was spent for that preparation; and our Princes understanding the resolution by one of their Spies, drew from their Ships, all their fighting men. They then sent Zabaim no∣tice of it, who (the most valiant of his age) desirous to make it appeare that his yeares had not brought him to the weakenesse of quitting his armes, set six thousand men on shore which he had in his fleete, and putting them into a battalion, march'd himselfe in the front, and so came and joyn'd with Bajazets Army. His troupes were much ad∣mir'd,

and lodg'd in the most commodious part of the Campe, and appointed to make a body for their last Reservall. Bajazet the same day review'd the whole Army, and after he had given order for the battle, left all the rest to the Marshals of the Campe. After dinner he chose the most eminent risings where to lodge his Canon, and gave no∣tice through all the Regiments that next day every one was to performe his duty. Whilst the Officers acted their commands, Zabaim and the foure Princes thought they had time sufficient to give the Ladies the good night. To them they went with an ex∣traordinary diligence, and found the Queene of Senega in Polexanders ship. She was gone thither to comfort Melicerta, who having beene much troubled all night with dreames and fearefull visions, awaked in a fever. Achomat seeing her so wan and de∣jected, cast him selfe on her, and melting in teares; Is it possible (said he) my deare daughter, that heaven will give no period to our miseries? My Lord, (replied Melicer∣ta) Heaven of whom you complaine, hath by infallible advertisements assur'd that that end is neere. The last night I saw the Sultannesse my Mother, inviron'd with a glori∣ous light, yet with a melancholy countenance, and her eyes full of teares. She held out her hand to me, but turn'd her head aside, as if she had a horror to see me, and plucking to me with violence: Come Melicerta, (said she rudely enough) and flatter thy selfe no longer with vaine hopes. Thou must follow me, and we must reunite for ever. With that me thought I gave a shreek as loud as I could, and that brought you to me and Iphidamantus; but presently the heavens open'd, and with a clap of thunder strooke you both dead at my feet. My dreame was not yet ended when Cydaria awaked me, and asked why I made such lamentation? If now (said she) my prayers can obtaine any thing from you, if the preservation of your afflicted daughter be deare unto you; in briefe, if I be able to comfort you for the losses you have suffered through me, I be∣seech you by that Deitie which you have made me worship from my infancie, to with∣draw from the dangers of warre, and winne Iphidamantus to prevent by a little feare, the misfortunes wherewithall his valour threatens him. Daughter (replied Achomat) those who are better seene then I am in the interpretation of dreames, may free you from that apprehension yours hath given you: for mine owne part, who give no cre∣dit at all to them, I can say nothing, but that the visions you have seen are the remains of that deep melancholy you got by living among the dead. Iphidamantus came to Melicerta as her father ended his speech, and taking her hand, which burnt, Doe not (said he) feare the accidents of warre, but rather those of your feaver: 'Tis that thun∣der-bolt which your dreame should make us doubt of, and without question if you strive not to divert the blow by giving way to your cure, but your father and I shall suffer under it. Your persons (repli'd Melicerta) are so deare to me, that I must with a great deale of pleasure resolve to whatsoever can be for their preservation; and I would to heaven, the small remainder of my life might put yours in suretie; but since 'tis your will, I will refuse no remedie, prescribe all you thinke fit for my health. Pre∣sently Diceus was call'd, and after some consultation with Bajazet's Physicians, let Me∣licerta bleed, which somewhat quieting her fits, she grew more mirthsome, and lesse troubled. Iphidamantus perceiving so great an amendment, and seeing he could not be permitted long with that Princesse, was willing to make his best use of the happy moments; he sate neere an houre (alone) at her beds-head, and asking pardon for his former insensibilitie, besought her to give his affection some signe that it was well ac∣cepted. Melicerta thereupon gave him her hand to kisse, and intreated him to have a care of his life. Could I give my whole age and thoughts to that amorous couple, I should recount to my Reader so much sweetnesse produc'd by love in that converse, that I am most certaine, the most severe, and most insensible that can be found out, would not be able to keep himselfe from falling in love, after its due consideration; But I dare stay no longer with these two lovers: Bajazet and Cydaria accuse me for my not disinterested pen; and Polexander, to whom I wholly owe it, justly u•…•…braides me for quitting the proper and essentiall parts of his life, for strange embellishments. Know then, that Iphidamantus and Melicerta, after they had been more then an ho•…•…e in such pleasures, as had nothing of distaste, but what his valour and her feaver inter∣mingled, ended their intertainment with reciprocall assurances of an eternall lo•…•… and

mutuall gifts. Iphidamantus put on Melicerta's wrist, a bracelet of pearles of a distinct forme and extraordinary greatnesse: Melicerta commanded one of her women to bring her a scarfe wrought with a Spanish stitch, linck'd with rubies, which she cast ore Iphi∣damantus, but in putting it on, her arme was unswath'd and so bloudied the scarfe: at which sight Melicerta gave a great shreeke, and affrighted with the presage, would have taken the scarfe from Iphidamantus. But the Prince humbly beseeching her to leave it him; Doe not beleeve Madam (said he) that the losse of your bloud is an effect of fortunes ordinary malice; 'tis an act of love's goodnesse: he is not satisfied with my wearing the tokens of your favour, but would have me the depositary of one of the most precious parts you can call yours, that so in the conflict, I might remember you fight with me, and should feare nothing, having a second that is perpetually victorious. Heaven grant (repli'd Melicerta) that your interpretation may be truer then mine, and that it may be onely the excesse of my affection that fills me with such extreame af∣frightings. Melicerta, seeing her lover upon parting, cast her armes about his neck, and gave her faith to live and die with him. Iphidamantus promised the like, and those two faire soules ratified the accord more strong, and solemnely then all publicke contracts by such kisses, as were by vertue of their promises, made innocent and lawfull: This short content was followed by long sadnesse, at least, counting the time, not according to the course of the Sunne, but the computation of such amorous Soules. They broke from one another with a like violence, and whilst Melicerta gave her self over to new griefes Iphidamantus went to Bajazet. He was with Cydaria, and tasted such pleasures as till then he was ignorant of. He related to her the particulars of his Rovers life, and during the recitall, tooke those civill liberties, which the scrupulous virtue of his Mi∣stris permitted him. When he was forc'd to take leave of her; Madame (said he) assure your self that fighting for your honor it is not possible but wee shall come off victori∣ous. In speaking it, his countenance, action, and words, were as so many infallible pre∣sages of the approching victory. Cydaria, so tooke them; yet seeing her lover departe, could not refraine from teares. Zabaim, Polexander, and Achomat, at the same time taking their leaves, retir'd to the Campe, and spent part of the night in rest, that they might not sinke under the travell the next day provided for them. At day-breake the four Princes arose, and having offered their hearts and lives to the all-powerfull Deity, mounted on horsebacke and rid to see the order and number of the Troupes. Their Army consisted but of twenty or five and twenty thousand men, but all so valiant and well disciplin'd that there was not an Army how numerous soever was able to over∣come them. The Infantry was divided into two and thirty battalions which by their distance might succour one another without running the hazard of intermingling or disordering one another. The Cavalry was placed on the wings, and lead by Polexander and Alcippus. The Moors march'd out of Morocco in good order, and had placed them∣selves in a place very advantageous, had not Bajazets Canon hindred them. Their Ca∣valry began the skirmish. The Granadians came on horse as well managed as theirs, and made their Enemies confesse, there were not better horsemen to be met withall. After the Cannon had played and the horse met, the battalions mov'd. Bajazet fought on the right wing with sixe thousand Pirates. Achomat on the lefte with foure thousand. Iphidamantus led the battle, and Polexander who was every where with a thousand horse forsooke none that had need of his great courage. The first dischar∣ges fi l'd the ayre with fire and smoake, and covered the earth with blood and dead corps. The Pirates who were used to fight by dint of sword assoon as they had given their first volleyes, taught the Moores a manner of fighting, as new to them as harmefull. Po∣lexander, with his body of horse transpierc'd all that came before him, and reserving his sword for illustrious blowes, killed none but such men as were extraordinarily re∣markeable, either by their quality or valour. Achomat who did no lesse wonders, passed even to the Rere-guard of the Moores to meete with the King of Morocco or of Granada: but they had no minde to be there, but were placed on the walls, from whence under the covert of a Scarlet Pavillion they beheld the voluntary sacrifice of so many men, whom their private interest exposed to th•…•… violence of sword and fire. The valiant Basha fretting at the Kings cowardise discharged his choler on the first he

met, and at that time his Cymeter might be compar'd to thunder when it lights in a forrest. Bajazet as the most interested in the battle was likewise the more eager in the fight, he searched every where for the bold Abinzerrague, who had brag'd he would fight with him, and met the Granadian after he had beaten downe many of their par∣tie: assoone as he came up to him, 'Tis (said he) now at this time, that thou must make evident to us, thou knowest how to make much of the liberty we have given thee; The Abinzerrague knew him, and came on so bravely, that he doubted not but the strength of his arme would answer the boldnesse of his speech; they fought almost a quarter of an houre, without advantage, yet they saw the Moore was inferiour to Bajazet, as much as a hardy Faulcon to that alwayes victorious bird which findes his element in that fear∣full region where the thunder is bred. The illustrious Rover was neere assur'd of the victorie, and his Enemie reduc'd to the quitting his armes or life, when above two hundred Moorish Knights came to aide him, and forc'd Bajazet to thinke of his owne preservation in lieu of prosecuting his victorie. Iphidamantus, who had put to flight the King of Morocco's troupes, and beate them into the gates of the citie, brought back his forces where the Granadians yet disputed the victorie; one squadron of the Moor•…•… he routed and put to their heeles, and so came to the place where Bajazet was ingaged: these two great courages being met, and followed by a small companie of the most re∣solute pirates, made the stongest battalions to stagger, and by wondrous valour which terrified the valiant'st Granadians, compell'd, maugre their ancient pride, to leave to them the honour of that day. The slaughter was great, and had beene farre more, but for the approaching night, and neernesse of the Towne: there fell in the field but fif∣teene or sixteene hundred of the Pirates; Zabaim neither left his station nor fought; of the foure other Princes, three were lightly hurt; the fourth which was Achomat, re∣turn'd from the fight cover'd with wounds and bloud; he tooke heed of nought but to overcome, and that care tooke good effect, as you have heard, but so unfortunately for him, that after he had put off his armour, and Diceus had searched his wounds, two of them were found if not mortall, at least most dangerous. Polexander, Iphidamantus, and Bajazet, went to visit him, and witnessing their sorrow to see him in that case complained of their fortune, and detested so deare a bought victorie. Why my friends (said Achomat) did you thinke me invulnerable? I confesse I am wounded, but I have life enough left me to fight againe to morrow, if our Enemies have courage enough to come once more out of their walls: give over then that sadnesse which hinders you from savoring so great a victorie; and for feare of making your selves unworthy of so brave a day, cast your thoughts on him which is the author of it, and goe presently to render to his protection the thankes he expects from your acknowledgement. The Princes being by a sacred advertisement put in minde of their dutie, returned to the place of the battle, and according as they had bin bred up and instructed, vowed; some Temples, others Mosquys to the same Deitie which they acknowledged all to be the Author of their victorie: Polexander and Iphidamantus caus'd a Crosse to be erected on a hillocke in the midst of the Plaine, and adorning it with spoiles taken from the Ene∣mie, fixed an Inscription of Gratitude on it.

These actions of pietie being ended, the newes of the battle was to be sent to the Princesses; Iphidamantus and Bajazet tooke on them that charge: Melicerta startled with joy and feare when her lover entred the chamber: Come deare Iphidamantus said she to him, and tell me where is my honour'd Achomat? Madam (repli'd the Prince) he stayes behinde with Zabaim and Polexander, to give new orders to our Ar∣my, and (if I be not deceiv'd) to make them ready for another battle. If it be so (said Melicerta) I shall see my good father this night, but I feare much hee is not in case to come hither. Iphidamantus was urg'd to make many protestations for the quieting the minde of that Princesse; at last the beleev'd him, but 'twas to comply with the ex∣treame love she bore to Iphidamantus. An houre and more he stay'd with her, and Ba∣jazet was not lesse time with Almanzaira and Cydaria; he related to them how mat∣ters had happen'd, and spoke not but by the way of Achomat's hurts, for feare of inter∣mingling ought of sadnesse with the mirth of their conversation. The good fortune of warre giving him a little more boldnesse then he was to take, he besought Almanzaira

to perfect her happinesse by obtaining from Cydaria a declaration, which hee was not so overbold to aske, nor deserving enough to merit. I have (said Almanzaira) preven∣ted your intreatie, and knowing well you could not enjoy your full happinesse with∣out this Princesse assent, I have besought her not to oppose a Fate which hath been writ even by the hand of Heaven: she hath initmated to me, that my intreaties were pre∣valent with her; she for my sake hath even cast aside her intention, and if Polexander ruines not your happinesse, I see not what you are to petition more. Cydaria blushed at the Mothers speech to her Sonne, and yet by a smile she shew'd she was resolv'd not to contradict her; Almanzaira desirous to oblige Bajazet to the height, tooke Cydaria by the hand, and clasping it with her deare Sons, I wish (said she) your hearts were as strictly joyn'd as your hands; and that future time give you as much content as you have indur'd afflictions in the former. Cydaria drew away her hand so hastily, as if shee had fear'd to ingage her selfe, and looking on Almanzaira with a pleasing amazement; What doe you please to doe Madam? said she, Had you that powerfull Character by whose vertue that which is bound on Earth, is confirmed presently in Heaven, I should be now in the power of Bajazet. Lady (repli'd the Queene) I shall never love Almanzor so much, as to submit you to his discetion; his greatest glory is in acknowledging yours, and in that little time he had the honour to hold your hand, hee made an irrevocable oath, never to be dispensed from serving you. Bajazet durst say nothing, for feare of speaking somewhat that might displease Cydaria; onely by his humbled countenance, he told her, she was acknowledged by him, for the absolute arbitratour of his good for∣tune as well as his life. Cydaria would not abuse that Soveraigne Authority; she tur∣ned to Almanzaira, and the colour coming into her face, 'Tis fit Madam (said she) that you be obey'd, and Almanzor treated as a personage farre beyond others. I referre all that concernes my selfe, to the disposall of your Majestie and Polexander. 'Tis too much, cri'd Bajazet, transported as a man that could give no bounds to his joy; all the hazards I can expose my selfe to for your service, cannot make me worthy of the least word you have spoken in my favour: be pleas'd withall, that in kissing your hand (which he did in saying so) I may sweare, as if I touched our Altars, that I desire no other honour, then to merit by all the actions of my life, the continuation of my most humble servitude. Bajazet had no sooner ended his generous protestation, but hee tooke leave of the Queene and his Mistresse, and went with Iphidamantus to Zabaim, Polexander, and the unfortunate Achomat. In the meane time, Melicerta no more troubled by the powerfull charmes which were inseparably annexed to the faire Iphi∣damantus person, called to minde her father, and her propheticke spirit representing him to her wounded as he was, she called one of her women in whom she most trusted; Eliza (said she to her) I can no longer live in these afflictions; in this extremitie thou must needs testifie to me, how justly I love thee, and (without being stopp'd by any occasion whatsoever) goe secretly, and learne whether my honoured father be alive or dead. Iphidamantus surely deceived me, when he protested he was not wounded: the extraordinary agitations of my minde force me, not beleeve him, and to thinke that my Lord the Basha is reduc'd to an estate very deplorable. Eliza accustomed to obey, and not dispute her Mistresse commands, went to put on a man's habit, which she had formerly made use of in the like occasions, and came to the Campe unknowne of any: there she inquired for Achomat's quarter, and finding it, entred his tent a little after Iphidamantus and Bajazet were got thither. A great disorder there was by meanes of the generous Basha's wounds, and every body indifferently came in, that the •…•…rt Prince might at least have the comfort of seeing how much he was lamented. Eliza came so neere to his bed, that she heard him speake of Melicerta, and besought Iphida∣mantus to goe and prepare her minde for the constant receiving the newes of his mis∣fortune: Eliza, no sooner heard Iphidamantus answer, but she slid out in the crowde, and returned with the same diligence she came. When she was alone with Melicerta, Madam (said she) the Prince your father is alive, but he is wounded in so many places, that he is forced to keep his bed; the Chirurgeons are of opinion that his wounds are dangerous, yet they despaire not of healing them: for the rest, Achomat infinitely de∣sires to see you, and intreated Iphidamantus (when I came thither) to repaire to you,

that by the power of his advice, he might suppresse your first agitations, and by some sleight make you swallow so bitter a potion as he brings you. O bloudy decrees of the eternall Justice (cryed Melicerta, interrupting Eliza) see the beginning of such things as it hath resolv'd! My dreames have the same dismall interpretations I alwayes dreaded, and I learne thence, but most cruelly, that in vaine the unfortunate take paines todivert their destinie. Unprofitable words, vaine considerations! why keep ye me in my bed? 'Tis not a fit time now to talke of rest and health. Let's hasten Eliza, ô let's run whither our piety calls us, and not be husbanding a miserable life, which (may be) must this day be taken from us: With that Melicerta flung out of her bed, and scarce gave her woman time to cloath her; she went privately from her ship, and without taking leave of Almanzaira, nor her deare Cydaria, was carried in a chaire to Achomat's tent; she entred that wherein he lay, without giving notice of her coming, and so surpris'd Polexander, Iphidamantus, and Bajazet, that as amaz'd they cry'd out all at once. The wounded man rais'd his head, and about to aske what was betided, saw Melicerta, who unable to speak, or uphold her self, fell downe on his bed: My deare daughter (said he) thinke on me! and consider that thy griefes wound me a new: curb then those too vio∣lent witnesses of thy love, and give over at last to wrestle with a Power that cannot be surmounted. Though Melicerta was extreamly transported, yet she heard what her father spake; and to conforme her selfe to his will, so much forc'd her selfe, that one might say, she in a moment pass'd from an extreame anxiety to an extremity of quiet: shee arose from her father's bed, and having kiss'd him with an admirable constancy; My Lord (said she) I could not be your daughter, and do lesse then grieve for your misad∣venture; not that I thinke it dangerous, for if your friends countenances dissemble not, nor deceive me, I see no cause we have to feare; set your minde therefore at rest, and be pleas'd that I share with you, at least in such ills as you had never tri'd, had you ne∣ver been father to your unnaturall Melicerta: With that she grew pale, and but for Iphi∣damantus who held her, she had falne flat on the ground; she was so weake with her former sicknesse, and strove so exceedingly to hide her sorrow, that without the won∣derfull courage wherewithall she had alwayes us'd to oppose her miseries, she had even then forgone that poore remainder of life which was left her. She had not been there much above an houre, when two of Bajazet's Officers entered Achomat's tent, and told their Generall, they brought him some Eunuchs which were taken in the camp, and being forc'd to speake, said, they belonged to the Princesse Rozelana, wife to Achomat. How subject is the judgement of men to be deceived! I say so, because Bajazet rejoyc'd at the comming of Rozelana's Eunuchs, and thought their bringing newes of that Princesse would not be a little comfort to Achomat. He went therefore to the Ba∣sha's bed-side, and assuring him his wounds were not mortall, promised, he should short∣ly receive such consolation as would much further his recovery: Whence can it come? (said Achomat.) From the person you love best in the word, replyed Almanzor. Alas, said the Basha, my dear Rozelana knows not where I am, and what afflicts me more, is, that thinking me lost with her daughters, she laments, and spends in tears and fighes the best dayes of her life. She must needs be better inform'd (said Bajazet) then you imagine, for two of her servants are newly come hither, and desire to have the honour to see you. Let them come in (said Achomat) let them come quickly, and in saying so, he put him∣selfe in such a posture as made Diceus beleeve his wounds were not so dangerous as he thought them. The Eunuchs presently came in, and because they were extreamly black, and very unseemly, they could not judge by their countenances, whether they brought good or bad newes. Achomat tooke the letter they presented him, and without giving eare to his daughter or the Princes, who intreated he would not straine himself, call'd for a light, and read what followes.

Rozelana daughter to the greatest of the Ottoman Emperours, to her deare Lord Achomat.

BY my former Letters I intimated the cause, by this I advertise you of my death. Our perfect love seemes to tell me I am too cruell to send such tydings as will heap

so much affliction on you; but withall, I confesse it would not have me part hence without assuring you, that death it selfe cannot rase you out of my thoughts: I die then my dear Achomat, but I die contented, since I could not live any longer but in affliction, and by consequence you could expect nothing from me but teares and trouble. I do not intreate you to be insensible of my losse. On the contrary (my deare Achomat) I de∣sire thou wouldst never be comforted for it; yet if it be true that you love me, I, even dying, intreate this favour, that you will live as long as the eternall Providence hath ap∣pointed. I can no more, Death forceth on me, and were it not staid by that victori∣ous hand which triumph'd over it in the grave, I should not have time enough nor strength to assure you that I die a Christian.

WHen he had read over the Letter, he sigh'd, but so weakly, that they thought not he had receiv'd so sad newes; he turn'd to his Eunuchs, and calling one of them by his name, Narcissus, said he, didst thou see her die? Yes, my Lord (reply'd the old Eunuch) and these unfortunate hands (with that he lifted them up) have for ever clos'd her eyes. He had no sooner said so, but he tore that little haire remaining on his head, and casting himselfe on the earth, began againe to lament and weep with his companion. Melicerta who had alwayes prophesied her afflictions, anticipated those contain'd in her mothers Letter, and forgetting all her high resolutions, O heaven! (cry'd she) must there need so many blowes from thee, to kill so miserable a wretch! With that Achomat reach'd her her mothers Leter, and then fell back on his pillow: she scarce tooke time to read it all, but cry'd out, O detestable creature that I am! O monster twice a parricide! blinded passion! unjust, or unpowerfull heaven! We are all three alike guilty: the one hath per∣mitted the mischiefe, the other advis'd it, and the last could not defend her self from it. Her respect to Achomat and the other Princes, staid the current of her laments for that misfortune, but it could not stop that of her despaire. The presence, the teares, and entreaties of Iphidamantus, could obtaine from her no other then a faigned compla∣sency. For Achomat, he was silent, and though his love to his daughter made her ever extreamly deare to him, yet he never troubled himselfe with forbidding her lamenta∣tions, nor intreating her to live. In this manner was the night spent, at day-breake, Za∣baim, Polexander and Bajazet, call'd on by their troopes, with much griefe left the fa∣ther and the daughter, and would have obliged Iphidamantus to stay with them; but in the very instant Almanzaira and Cydaria came into the tent. On the newes they heard of Melicerta sudden going away, they imagin'd Achomat was dead; and not to abandon that Princesse in her extreame affliction, were come to the Camp. Iphida∣mantus leaving his Mistresse againe in the hands of Almanzaira and Cydaria, humbly be sought her permission to follow his brother and friends; Goe deare Iphidamantus (said she) goe, since thou wilt, and my ill fate suffers me not to forbid thee: with those words she grew speechlesse, and her scattered eyes gave apparent singes of her soules dis∣order. Iphidamantus stai'd till she was recollected, and when he thought she had no more need of his being there, he went to the place where they were to fight; there he found Polexander, Zabaim, and Bajazet, examining one of their Spies, a crafty fellow, if there were ever any; he inform'd them, how he had been all the night in the palace of Morocco, and that both the Kings resolv'd to flye, when a great noise was heard on that part next to Mount Atlas, and presently there came in a Knight, who advertis'd them of the arrivall of twenty thousand Arabians; I saw them enter (said the Spy) and though the number be great, their equipage and order are both so ill, that I make almost no esteeme of that succour. The Princes without much relying on that man's opinion, or neglecting their accustomed providence, tooke care to put themselves in case good enough to receive their Enemies, and to repell them how valiant soever. To that end they chang'd the manner of their battle, and presently call'd their enemies to combate; the Moores on their side, reinforc'd by the Arabians, march'd into the field, and put themselves in battle-array: Polexander causing his vantgard to advance to a special piece of ground whence they could not be dislodg'd, & seeing some of them a little foil'd with so many combates, thought it was not amisse to speake to them; My companions (said he) doe not beleeve your toile or danger this day will be comparable to such as you

have gone through; all that you have to doe, is to perfect that fight which night inter∣rupted, and assure your selves of the victorie you had already wonne: those who are to meet withall, with a boldnesse that seems not to know you, are the same run-awayes whom but last night you forc'd all in disorder to flie into their towne, and to preserve their lives with the losse of their honour; I confesse they have some succours come to them, but I leave you to judge what they are, being compos'd of Arabians, that is, of so ill Souldiers, that all Princes who would well wage warre, cashiere them from their Armies; they are theeves, who never set on any but such as will run from them. On then my companions, fall on, where victorie (aloud) calls for you, she declares her self once more on your fide, and askes from your hands but a few Palmes which are want∣ing to dresse her Crowne withall. After this Speech to his Souldiers, Polexander fell in among the Enemie; with the first incounter of his lance, he overthrew the Abinzer∣rague; Iphidamantus slew him who onely surviv'd of the Morocco Kings race; and Ba∣jazet ran through and through the Arabian Generall. These first incounters affrighting the Moores, they apparently stagger'd, and but for a Body of Granadians, which kept them from flying, the fight had been ended in the very beginning. Iphidamantus made himselfe a way amongst their Cavalrie, and not considering whether he were follow∣ed or no, passed furiously through their fire, pikes and lances. Polexander on his side, having no more to act, turn'd otherwhere, and asking in every place for Iphidamantus, hasted to that part where he was said to be fighting; hee could not come to him by meanes of a battalion of Moores which stopped his passage, and coming on with much co fidence, engag'd him to fight; he shew'd them to such as followed him, and speak∣ing without scarce any stay, My friends (said he) there are onely these men that dis∣pute with you for the victorie; teach them they are no more invincible then those you have already defeated; your valour receives a diminution to suffer them to be so long in case to resist you; give way then to be govern'd by your just anger; they must, nay, 'tis fit they should be inveloped with the fortune of their companions, and not contest any longer with you for the honour of this day: But what said I? they must? they are already o'recome, since I see you are resolv'd to set on them. Though these words were perswasive, yet they were more true; for the pirates fell on as if they had been untoil'd and fresh, and without any other care then to die honourably, (with their incompara∣ble Leader) passed through that masse of men, armes and horses. The valiant Abin∣zerrague had promis'd his ambition to conquer some one of our Heroes, but it was farre easier to make such a vow then performe it; he came full gallop to meete Polex∣ander, and calling to him afar off to defend himselfe, ran against him with a firme beliefe, that at least he should unhorse him: Polexander stai'd for him, and turning a∣side with his sword the point of his lance, with the same weapon ran at his throat, but it did onely rase the skin; the Abinzerrague began to accuse Mahomet for his misfortune, and casting away his lance, came with his sword drawn at Polexander; never was com∣bate more furious, nor accompanied with more spectators, for as if it had been a thing agreed on by both Armies, all those that were fighting, forgot one another in the heate of the battle, and standing still with their swords drawne expected the successe of the Duell, which was such as my Reader imagines: the Abinzerrague at last sinking under the stroakes of invincible Polexander, receiv'd two deadly blowes, and fell almost pre∣sently under his horses feet. The Granadians seeing their Generall dead, look'd like those inchanted bodies which have no other motion then what they take from the De∣mon which animates them; they presently threw away their armes, either to flie the more lightly, or to be the sooner slaine, and by their cryes and disorder, were the first that proclaim'd the Princes had wonne the battle. Bajazet, who had cut in pieces al∣most all the Arabians, and followed them above a league, returned from the chase with a gallant troupe, when he met those whom Polexander hardly pursued: He put all to the sword to free himselfe from the trouble of a third day, and by that slaughter made an end of all was to be done. Those who have most exactly spoken of this warre, have written, that either during the siege or in the two battles; the pirates were almost whol∣ly exterminated, and that Bajazet found not above two thousand remaining after the taking of Morocco. There were slaine above thirty thousand Moores, more then ten

thousand Granadians, and twice as many Arabians. Assoone as the battle was wonne, there was so generall an affright in the Towne, that the two Kings fled thence by night, and staid no where till they were farre gotten into the hideous Sanctuaries of Mount Atlas. Polexander and Bajazet, who knew as well how to make good use of a victorie as to overcome, fell into the gates of Morocco before the inhabitants were re∣collected from their former fright; they found them open and abandon'd, and entred the Towne with all the discretion experienced Captaines use to temper their earnest∣nesse in so nice occasions. Those few pirates which remained alive, desirous to revenge the deaths of their companions, ran through the streets with fire and sword, and made such ravage and havocke, that to this day may be seene to what excesse their inhumane courages drove them; whilst they abus'd the priviledges attributed to their condition, Polexander and Bajazet rid out of the Towne, and not knowing where to finde Iphida∣mantus, posted into the field where they had fought the battle; they found him not there, and thinking he was return'd to Achomat and Melicerta, rode towards their tents. In their way, they perceiv'd Zabaim who was extraordinarily sad, they demanded the cause, and he told them that in the last fight of the Granadians, he had thrust in among them to disingage Iphidamantus, but that his assistance could not save the Prince from falling under the number: at this lamentable newes, Polexander could not refraine from teares, and besought Zabaim to bring him where he had seene Iphidamantus fall; they went all together, and by the light of the City on fire, search'd the dead, and found that Prince (the fairest and most valorous of his time) drown'd in his bloud, in∣viron'd with a great many Moores whom he had (infallibly) slaine. Polexander fell downe on him, and interrupting his complaints with his sighes, Ah! my brother (said he, lifting him up) see then the fatall accomplishment of such things as thy poore Meli∣certa hath so often and so vainely foreseene; thou art dead deare Iphidamantus in the flower of thine age, and Heaven either for love or envie was onely pleas'd to shew thee to the world. Bajazet was not to be comforted, he tooke on against the stars and men, and accusing himselfe for Iphidamantus death, Wretch that I am, said he, 'tis I that have cover'd this faire body with all the wounds that disfigure it, and that conspir'd with the Moores to ruine that valour which I could not equalize. Zabaim, whose age and expe∣rience made him lesse sensible then the other two Princes, intimated to them, that un∣lesse they would forget their profession, they could not with justice lament Iphidaman∣tus death, since the like disasters were inseparably annexed to the use of armes; besides, Iphidamantus dying so gloriously, and in seventeene yeares of age having raz'd out the memory of all that had been great and admirable in former times, he was rather to be perpetually extoll'd then any thing at all lamented. Polexander suppressed his griefe that he might not be seene to affect a vertue so troublesome and vulgar, but thinking on the deadly wound Melicerta was to receive, Poore Princesse (cri'd he) thou said'st right alwayes, that there was no true felicity for thee, and that those favours by which Fortune seem'd to reconcile her selfe to thee, were but treacheries and snares of which she would make use to make thee the more sensible of her inhumanitie; shall I conceale from thee the losse of thy deare Solyman? Nay, shall I make knowne his death, which will be thine? Polexander could not goe on with his complaints, Bajazets lamentations hindred him, and Zabaim's remonstrances obliged him to returne to the Camp. He therefore commanded Diceus to carry off Iphidamantus corps privately, and taking Bajazet forcibly away, came to Achomat's tent; all was there in confusion and teares; the newes of Iphidamantus death had beene brought thither, and no body knew the anthor. Melicerta at the first hearing of it, giving her selfe desperately over, flew as she had been distracted out of her fathers tent; If Almanzaira and Cydaria had not with-held her, she had run to search for Iphidamantus among those that lay scatte∣red and slaine on the place of battle, as so many sacrifices offered up to victorie. Assoone as she saw Polexander, Give me my Solyman (cri'd she) restore the treasure you have stolne from me; and thou ambitious and adventurous Bajazet, wer'st thou not content with the robbing me of Achomat? must Iphidamantus death be added to his, as a se∣cond trophy rais'd to the honour of thy bloudy and furious passion? Almanzaira strove to appease her, Cydaria wept, Almanzor tore his haire, Polexander sate setled and mute,

Achomat all-dying as he was, bewail'd Iphidamantus death, and entreated Melicerta to moderate her sorrow, but she was deafe to all counsell and intreaties; sometimes she cast her selfe on her fathers bed, and then againe flinging through the company in Acho∣mat's tent, besought them (at least) to give her leave to go search for her husbands body. Achomat call'd our Heroe, and entreated that last contentment to his daughter and himselfe; Polexander besought him to thinke on what he desir'd, and to conceive what a furie his daughter might fall into at the sight of a body made so dreadfull and disfigu∣red with wound. There are (repli'd Achomat) some sicke persons to whom many things are deni'd, because many things may wrong them; but there are some other a∣gaine who are to be deni'd nothing, because their diseases being incurable nothing can hurt them: my daughter and my selfe are of the latter sort, there is no more thought to be taken for our preservation; all that our friends can doe for us, is to let us die in quiet, and (since poyson is no more dangerous for us then physicke) give us the one assoone as the other. Polexander, wonne by those reasons, but more by Melicerta's frightfull actions, commanded Iphidamantus body to be brought, and laid it on a bed neere to A∣chomat's. The Basha would needs see it, and making a worthy reflexion on that great example, of the frailtie of Princes lives; Greatnesse of the world, (said he) sensuall de∣lights, momentarie beauties, come and see what you are in a portraict so truly represent∣ing you! And thou faire soule too soone dislodg'd from so faire a prison, flie not hence alone to the place of thy eternall rest! Achomat and Melicerta would follow thee, and participate of those promis'd incomprehensible joyes. No body heard Achomat, for Melicerta made such a noise, that nothing was to be heard but her lamentations. At last (to contemplate Iphidamantus) she grew silent, and grasping him in her armes, had certainly then dy'd on him, had she not been taken off: Achomat call'd her, and present∣ly her reason surmounting her griefe and furie, she knew her fathers voice, and ran to his bed. Achomat, who decay'd, and grew palpably weake, and scarce able to speake, stretch'd his hand towards her, and presently letting it fall, Daughter (said he) give thanks with me to that Goodnesse which is at last wearied with our sufferings; if thou desirest I should die in some peace, moderate thy lamentation, and thinke thou hast lost not•…•…g, but what thou wert sure and bound to be depriv'd of, sooner or later. With that he •…•…f∣ted his hands to heaven, and addressing himselfe to that Power which could onely heare him, he gave up the ghost. When Melicerta, growing more furious then before, tore her face, pluck'd off her haire, and attempted often to seise on some sword to fall on; Almanzaira and Cydaria expressed, that if she continued as she was, that she was to ex∣pect no other then the losse of her soule with her life; that consideration resetled her, and after a while musing, she cast her selfe on Achomat, and presently starting up again, But (said she) this is onely the halfe of my miseries, with that she ran to the other bed, and drawing the curtaines, stood like a statue, at the pitifull sight of so late an admired and faire a countenance, and now shaded with the obscuritie and horrour of death; she kissed him, and afterwards looking on him without any apparent disturbance, O short (said she) and unfortunate love of humane creatures, glorious and pitifull remaines of the fairest of men! Iphidamantus, deare Iphidamantus, is it thus that we were to be link'd with bonds more strong then time or fortune? Must I needs leave the tombe wherein I had buried my selfe alive, to be the spectatresse of thy precipitated death, and see thee againe after so long a separation, onely that I might lose thee more then once? Yes, it must be, for heaven had so resolv'd it, let's therefore fully perfect our destinie: Those were the last words she spoke, afterwards she did nothing but sigh, and utter some inarticulate speech; and then leaving her lover to returne to her father, she imbrac'd him neere a quarter of an houre, without giving eare to Zabaim's intreaties, Almanzai∣ra's exhortations, Cydaria's laments, nor the supplications of Polexander and Bajazet. When she perceiv'd she could no more, she went from her father to Iphidamantus, and laying her selfe downe by him, tooke his hand, kissed it, and so gave up the ghost. These three so considerable dead bodies, and so neere to one another, made Polexander and Bajazet almost forget what they owed to themselves; at last their servants drew them from that mournfull place, and even forc'd them to retire to their vessells. Bajazet suspended his passion to accord with that of his Mistresse, and for two or three dayes did

nothing but sigh and nourne with her; the fourth he tooke the hardinesse to speak, and told her that so faire and excellent a soule as hers, should be above all the malice of for∣tune: But Cydaria was of too noble a nature to be o'recome by so barbarous a philosophie; she had lost the halfe of her selfe in losing Iphidamantus, and 'twas fit she should have more then ordinary resentments; well might she yet strive to arme her selfe against reason, but time and love, which are as powerfull as death, made her yeeld, and quit her complaints and sorrow for the respect she bore to Polexander, Zabaim, Al∣manzaira, and Bajazet's continuall sollicitations. Eight or ten dayes passed o're, during which time the Citie of Morocco was almost utterly ruined; that famous palace which Historians have describ'd to us as a master-piece of the African Kings magnifi∣cence, was subverted; the Temples scap'd not the furie of sacrilegious hands, and those three golden apples which shine on the point of the principall Mosquy, were hardly pre∣serv'd by the vertue of such enchantments as are their eternall defence and guardians. Bajazet would have nought for his part of the booty but Cydaria's picture, which was found in a private Mosquy of Hely's lodgings. Presently after, he sent command to the pirates, and the King his father's souldiers, to come from the Towne, and repaire to their colours; they obeyed without compulsion, being so rich, and tir'd with ill doing, that they wished for nothing more, then to put their pillage in some place of safetie. Polexander (for his part) pressed as much as he could their depart, which in his opinion might produce some great change of his fortune; Zabaim and Almanzaira desired it as much as he; Bajazet presently agreed, and so with as faire a gale as could be wish'd, they weigh'd anchors, and landed happily in the Island of Fez: there Zabaim visited the tomb of his second sonne, and Polexander restor'd to its ancient sepulchre, the body of un∣fortunate Melicerta. Her Father was laid on her right hand, and her Lover on her left, with Trophies of Warre and Love; and Inscriptions, which had lasted to this day, if the pride of Spaine had not subverted all the Monuments which might have preserv'd to after times, the memorie of our Heroe's conquests. From thence they passed to the new Isle of Alcidiana, and among the triumphs and rejoycings answerable to the time, th•…•…e •…•…arriage of Bajazet and Cydaria was concluded; a few dayes after that glorious Ceremonie, Zabaim and Almanzaira tooke thence their sonne and daughter to enter in possession of their estates, and solemnize among their owne subjects, the feasts of so illustrious and long-wish'd for an alliance. Whilst Senega, Guinea, Melly, and many other great Provinces wash'd by the Niger, drain'd their riches and inventions, to raise every where eternall remembrances for Bajazet's returne and marriage. Polexander by degrees and insensibly relaps'd into his former melancholy, and held all those for Im∣postors who assured him he should one day reinjoy the felicities he had lost; A Canarian (one that had been a great observer of the stars) came to him a little before he set to sea, and knowing his designe, Sir (said he) those which have not my knowledge in future things, having taken notice of those misfortunes you are like to fall into, advise you to give over your voyage; but I, who even now foresee the event, intreat you to hasten on, and not lose the benefit of certaine constellations, which seeme to shine onely to con∣test with the malignity of such others as threaten you; set saile therefore, and hold it for infallible, that your happinesse shall not be farre off, when you see your selfe reduced to the most unfortunate estate, ever any great Prince like your selfe ever met with: Pole∣xander neglected this counsell, as others, and yet for feare of disobliging the Author, he •…•…ain'd to be well pleased with it, and to assure him he was so, gave him a worthy Pre∣sent. The Prognosticator being gone, Polexander set saile with Alcippus and Diceus, the deare and inseparable companions of all his fortunes; hee commanded his to steere right North, and without varying either West or Easterly, to hold on his course on the same point. All that ever experience and the art of Navigation have taught the most judicious Pilots, that man observ'd in the guiding his ship, and a winde from Africa seeming to be risen, expresly to favour their enterprise, made Polexander beleeve he should not alwayes be unfortunate. The hundred leagues which they held to be from the Canaries to Alcidiana's Island, were reckoned by so exact a computation, that the Pilot's Mates assured Polexander, they had not miscounted a mile; for all that no Isle could be discovered, and the ship still made on with all her sailes. Polexander not

knowing whom to accuse but his destinie, imprecated against himselfe, and if that prin∣ciple of pietie which never parted from his soule, had not stopp'd the agitations of his anger, he had without doubt added one to the examples of those, who to be delivered ou•…•… of the hands of fortune, have daringly laid violent hands on themselves: being then ingag'd to suffer till Providence had otherwise appointed, he caused part of his sailes to be taken in, and will'd his Pilot to alter his course, and somtimes steering East, and other∣times sailing West, not to forget any thing on what his art depended. The Pilot be∣leeving his reputation as well as fortune to be annexed to this discoverie, followed it both w•…•…h the eyes of a Lynceus, and the judgement of another Typhis. Two dayes and two nights he attempted severall courses, and rectifying himselfe by the help of his Compasse as often as the winde put him off from his first Rhombe; he had the boldnesse to tell Polexander, that in spight of the power of what Demons soever, he would finde that inchanted Island. These promises were too audacious to be licenced, and indeed were punished by a contemning which was like to cost their Authors life. At the fifth dayes break, those that were in the top of the maine Mast began•…•… cry, Land, and by that word filled all the ship with a noise that witnessed their universall joy. Polexan∣der, who durst not beleeve what he so much desired, went up into a place from whence he might discover all that was round about: That land he saw, and his heart beating (so much did that object master his senses) I know (said he) well enough what punish∣ment Alcidiana's just anger hath provided for me; but how worthy is my mishap to be envied, since the lightning that threatens me, is to come from the faire eyes of that Princesse! Whilst he spake thus, his vessell flew on the waves, and seem'd to take part in her masters rapture. Assoone as they were in the roade, they knew the discovered land to be an Isle: Polexander unwilling to trust to any body in a thing so important to him, commanded the shallop to be lanch'd, and taking none with him but Alcippus and Diceus, caused himselfe to be landed with all haste. He came on shoare in a very hidden and private place, and therefore went further up into the Isle to descry it; hee had not gone above five or six hundred paces along the coast, but he perceived the points of many turrets: with that hee went some hundred paces further without saying any thing; but when he was gotten to the top of a rocke from whence he plainly discerned the pavillions whose tops he had onely seen before; 'Tis the fatall Palace (said he) which I forsooke to pursue Amintha's ravishers. He spoke it imperfectly, his excesse of joy transporting him, he grew pale, he trembled, and underwent all the agitations that an extreame Love ever yet troubled the strongest minde with: sometime hee thanked Fortune, then he blessed Love, and ever among mingling Alcidiana; I have no sense (said he) but wrongs the extremitie of happinesse I enjoy. I confesse (O ye Divinities equally powerfull) that to you I am infinitely oblieged; but to shew such vulgar ac∣knowledgements for so extraordinary benefits, is to be ingratefull. If there be any one which may be accepted, 'tis the confession I make, that it is not lesse impossible for me to expresse, then to acknowledge sufficiently your incomparable gratifications: with that he turned to Alcippus and Diceus, and knowing not what was best to be done; Advise me my friends (said he) for in the case I am, 'tis a hard matter for me to counsell my selfe. Alcippus replied, he was not so well in Alcidiana's favour, as to pre∣sent himselfe to her without the advise of some one of his ancient friends, by whom he might understand how the Queen was affected towards him: 'Tis true (said our Heroe) I should be more guilty then Alcidiana imagineth, if I made no scruple of coming be∣fore •…•…er, incens'd as she is, or bore so meane a respect to a personage worthy so much a∣doration, as with an impudent boldnesse, inforce her to violate her owne lawes, and justifie that rash man whom she hath condemned to a shamefull death. Let's returne to our ship, and there we will deliberate at leasure in what manner 'tis fit I should pre∣pare my self for the punishment my disobedience hath deserved. Presently he turned himselfe to sea-ward, but he had not gone twenty paces e're his mind altered, and so re∣solved to attempt on fortune, and to try what should become of him: Alcippus laid be∣fore him all that he thought most perswasive to divert him from so dangerous a resolu∣tion; but all was in vaine, and so was of force to follow him. After they had left the sea coast and traversed a plaine, watered with many sweet rivers, beautified with faire

houses, and encompassed with a wood of very high trees, into part of which they entred, because their way ingaged them; they had not gone farre in when they stopped, at the sound of a flute and bagpipe: Polexander imagining whence the musicke came, went out of the largr way, and striking into a path fast by among the trees, came to a crosse way, invironed with five or six little cottages; there they saw two shepheards seated at the foot of a tree, playing on the instruments our Heroe had heard, and ten or twelve young children dancing before them, who made him see by their rurall habits, but faire ones, that their fathers were not reduced to the necessity of the European Shepheards. Polexander ravished with this adventure, would have addressed himselfe to the Pipers, but the poore men affrighted in seeing him, fled with the children; our Heroe followed to the cottage whereto they retired, and had made such an out-cry, that five or six other shepheards well clad, and armed with staves like our halfe pikes, from severall places came resolutely towards him: Hee spoke much to them, but imagining they under∣stood him not, he tooke a little diamond (which by chance he had on his finger) and offering it to them 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a demeanor full of courtesie, staid their furie. They took the ring, and after they had well gazed on it, imbraced Polexander one after another, and shewing him many civill respects, invited him into their cottage: thither he went, where he beheld two women, whose naturalnesse that had nothing of what was silly, and beautie without art, might have made them taken for some of those famous shep∣heardesses of the ancient Arcadia; there wanted nothing to his satisfaction, but to make himselfe understood, but that being not then possible, he thought best to talke to them by signes. In lesse then two houres he made them conceive what he desired, and inti∣mating he would willingly change his habit for some of theirs, they went and fetched him one made of fine linnen and shining as silke. The women likewise brought him hats, and buskins, so neatly made, that Polexander imagined he should be too finely dressed in those clothes: notwithstanding he tooke that which was fittest for him, and gave the other to Diceus. Never was he better pleased then when he had hung a scrip (made of a Hynde spotted Fawnes skin) in the place of his sword; and taken in his hand a sheep-booke, whose knots and carvings would yeeld matter for a long descripti∣on to a man that had more leasure then I have. He looked on himselfe as on another Paris, going to be Judge of all that was fairest in Heaven or Earth; presently he sent back Alcippus with a command to attend him eight dayes in the roade, and keep his en∣terprise secret: Alcippus obeyed without reply, and Polexander leaving his rich apparell' with the shepheards who had given him of theirs, made them understand by his signes that he would goe to their Princesse castle. Whether the shepheards conceived what our Heroe meant, or apprehended him not, once they staid him, and by their woefull countenances and joyned hands, seemed to have him know there was an extreame dan∣ger in approaching that castle: hee gave not the interpretation he should to the shep∣heards signes, but knew it afterwards when it was too late. Having then sent away Al∣cippus and taken leave of his hostes, he took the way to the castle, and growing merrie with Diceus about their pleasant incounter, had not walked an houre but he came with∣in a musket shot of that fatall castle: he descending a little hill, and crossing a meadow bordered on both hands with willowes and poplars, he came before a great plaine invi∣roned with very high railes, and beyond them with a file of blacke men chain'd to one another, and all arm'd with bowes and arrowes. As farre off as those Archers had de∣scry'd Polexander and Diceus, they gave a shout, and presently sent them a flight of ar∣rowes, from which they could not so well shelter themselves but some met with them; Polexander unwilling to be taken for any other then he seemed, fell on the ground, and expected when those fettered devils would be somewhat pacified. Not one of them left his station, but ten or twelve men lesse blacke then the guard, coming out of some tents that stood in one corner of the place, ran to our two adventurers; one among them taking our Heroe and his man for the shepheards of that Countrey, ask'd, why they had dar'd to violate what their Queen had forbidden: Polexander hearing Spanish spoken so far from Spain, answered in the same tongue, that they were two strangers, by a storme driven on that Island, and bearing it was commanded by a Queen, whose like the world afforded not, we much desired to doe her our obeysance, before wee betooke our selves

selves to sea againe. The Castilian replying with their naturall haughtinesse, If (said he) thou be not so happy as to have had thy birth on this famous Earth which produceth none but invincible men, be assured thy curiositie will cost thee thy life. Polexander smil'd at the threats of this new Rodomant, and answered thus, It is a hard thing for me to tell you the place of my birth, but I can well assure you I have nought of the Spa∣niard in me. Ah wretch! (cri'd the Castilian) what sinne hath brought thee to execu∣tion? Yet speake, and without dissembling thy thoughts, tell me if thou hast never lov'd. I wonder (repli'd Polexander) how a Spaniard can aske me that question; answer to it your selfe, since 'tis the beliefe of all Spaine, that 'tis harder to live without loving, the•…•… to live without breathing. The Castilian in lieu of continuing the discourse, turned to those that came with him, and commanded them to performe their charge; thereupon they straight fell on Polexander, who would not defend himselfe, and put on his legges and armes such chaines, as almost tooke from him the use of either. Diceus was trea∣ted accordingly, and with his Master led to the palace: there they were shut up in a vaulted chamber, and had leasure enough to reflect on so diversified an accident. Po∣lexander, after a long meditation breaking his silence; Was not I (said he) sufficiently accustomed to the malice of that ill Spirit which prosecutes me, to mistrust his promi∣ses, and imagine he would use me with as little favour in this occasion as in others? as∣suredly (quoth he, turning to Diceus) my desires have made me of a too easie beliefe. I am not in Alcidiana's Isle, and plainly see, that what I tooke for a haven is a treacherous roske, on which all my hopes are suffering their last shipwracke. Whilst he ended thus, the prison dore was opened, and many Souldiers, who by their lookes and words, wit∣nessed their barbarisme, confusedly entred, and plucking Polexander with a brutish fury, commanded him to follow them. He obeyed, with the patience of a man truely cou∣ragious, and after he had crossed many great courts, mounted by a winding staire, which was a master-piece in Architecture, into a hall, that might be said, the most that art could doe. It was of an extraordinary breadth and height, and had light by great overtures which were contrived betweene many rankes of Pillars: the vault was of great stones, naturally blue, and speckled with stars so glittering, that they seem'd of perfect gold. Polexander tooke no great heed to those rarities, but had his eyes fixed on a troupe of Ladies which stood round about an empty throne; assoone as he was seene there arose a little murmure amongst them, and a while after, a woman of some forty five yeares old ascended the throne: she was so loaden with diamonds and pearles, that 'twas well seen she would borrow from her dressings that Majestie which nature had deni'd her. In effect, she might have been taken rather for an Eunuch clad like a woman then a wo∣man indeed; her haire was red, her colour swart, her height excessive, and her coun∣tenance so ill, that had she not been lamentable meager as she was, yet had she been the very true image of horrour. When she was set, and her Ladies, with that blinde and servile obsequiousnesse, which thinkes of nothing but custome and interest, had wirnes∣sed their feare and worship, she call'd for Polexander to come neerer, and ask'd him what he was, whence he came, and why he had taken on the habit of one of that Islands shepheards. To that, Polexander (answering with all the respect, which reason wills us to observe to all persons which carry the particular signes of the Divinitie:) Madam (said he) I am a Prince farre more unfortunate then I esteem'd my selfe two houres since; I seek after that which is impossible for me to finde; I •…•…ded in your Isle with a firm be∣liefe it was the same wherein I was to meet my greatest felicitie, and in hope of it, chan∣ged my habit for those I now weare, the better to satisfie passion, and not wrong my duty. Infallibly (said that incomparable phantasme) turning to her Ladies, see here one of those mad men against whom those lawes are established which I cause so rigo∣rously to be observ'd. Is it not true (said she to our Heroe) that thou art in love, and callest all such who are not so, monsters; whom nature hath produc'd in the same man∣ner as she hath done nights, winters and diseases: confesse thy fault boldly, but I much feare, that cowardise which is inseparably with these esseminate youths, who lay all their glory in the conquest of I know not what young minion, will keep thee from ma∣king it knowne: speake, speake poore witlesse man, and deserre not till torture draw the truth from thee. With that Polexander making appeare gloriously that imperio•…•…

and charming countenance, wherewithall he was wont to reigne over the freedome of men, and even give a feeling to insensibilitie it selfe: Your Majestie (said hee to the Queene) may give me leave (if you please) to leave off my observance, for the defence of an innocent whom calumnie hath made despicable; If you beleeve (Madam) that love is a monster, you beleeve withall that youth is the greatest defect of life, and the Sunne should be accounted a prodigy. The Queene suddenly turning her eyes into two comets as red as her haire, threatned Polexander with a terrible death, and without any more hearing him, commanded he should be delivered into the hands of the hangmen. Before Polexander would be inforc'd to be withdrawn from that Megera, Madam (said he) 'tis not the custome of those who govern discreetly to condemn any that is accused till the cause be known; Your Majestie beleeves me guilty in taking on me the defence of love, and I, on the contrary should thinke my self so, if I wayv'd it? Command some Knight of your Court to take armes, that by a just combate hee may either force my life, or make me dishonourably unsay what I have maintained in your Majesties pre∣sence: such a command will be as equitable as glorious for him. The Spaniard of whom we have spoken, fell presently at the Queenes feet, and transcending all the va∣nities which make his nation ridiculous; Great Queene (said he) be pleas'd to permit me to be the exterminator of a monster, as feeble as he whose defence hee undertakes: but if your Majestie will please to command hee be strictly guarded till the day of combate, for I reade already in his eyes, that the propositions he made, are but cunning pretexts to save himselfe by a shamefull flight. Polexander, at some other time would have laugh'd at that Gallant's extravagancy, but for divers reasons growing cholericke, he retain'd himselfe onely in his first temper, and told the Spaniard, that if it pleas'd the Queene, there was day enough to decide their difference. The Castilian who was very valiant, tooke Polexander at his word, and would not rise from before the Queen, till he had got leave to fight. At the request of the Ladies it was granted him, for they, having no other malice to love then from the tongue, were very glad to see him triumph over his greatest enemies. Hereupon Polexander was unbound, and delivered into the hands of the Spaniard. The Gallant very insolently made use of his authority, and carried to an excesse of pride which made him forget his owne alloy, he spoke of his combate as if our Heroe had been already reduc'd to beg his life of him: he often told the Prince, that 'twas not his humour to shew them any favour who were so rash as to interchange blowes with him; to which Polexander repli'd, he would intreate any courtesie from him, but that he was resolv'd to make triall of whatsoever the chance of armes had re∣serv'd for him. When hee came to the Bragadochio's lodgings, hee intreated him the leave of sending to his ship for armour; No, no, repli'd the other in scorne, I have servants here that will furnish you with armes and horse: the Prince thanked him for his profer, and patiently indur'd all his insolencies. Whilst hee was in this decadence, a young man very well clad, came into his chamber, and after divers extraordinary ci∣vilities done him in the name of a Lady of the Court, My Mistresse (said he) understan∣ding that you had not here either horse or arms, hath taken care to provide you of both, and commanded me to intimate, that for Polexander's sake, she sends them to Love's defender: she beseecheth you to make use of them, and imagine, that going to main∣taine the power of Love, you goe to fight for Alcidiana's beautie. Polexander was no lesse surpris'd then ravish'd at these words, and did his utmost to get from the young man his Mistresses name; but the Squire humbly besought him to be ex•…•…s'd, since hee was expresly forbidden. Go then (said Polexander, putting a faire diamond on his finger) and assure thy Mistresse, I will strive to make my selfe worthy of her Present and coun∣sell. The Spaniard grew mad at his enemies faire fortune, and insolently told the Squire, he would advertise the Queen of his Mistresses flippery: You owe her too much respect (repli'd the young man) to doe her that wrong, yet you may doe as you please, and with that tooke his leave of Polexander, not giving any the least reverence to the Spaniard. Our Heroe presently opened the armour was sent him, and found it very faire; the shield was of an extreame well polish'd steele, in the midst whereof was painted a Tor∣rent, which being repuls'd and stopp'd by a Damme, foam'd with rage, and shocking on it impetously, seem'd to shake the very foundations: The word was, [I will overcome.]

Then he went to see his horse, and finding him such as was promised, commanded Di∣cens to put on his armour. In the meane time the Spaniard calling for the armes he in∣tended to use, made shew of a great deale of impatiencie till he were all ready; and de∣scending with Polexander into the court of the castle, went to his stables, where among a great many horse, he chose one that had no other fault, but his being as proud as his Master. Polexander, all arm'd as he was, would have no help to get on his; Diceus had the honour that day to be his Squire, and carried his Helmet and Lance into the field, and gave him both assoone as the Spaniard was ready for fight. The place could not be better, (for 'twas the same rail'd in with lists where Polexander was first seiz'd on) nor the season more favourable, since the aire was so extraordinary calme; but the compa∣ny, though it were compos'd of a Queene, of many Princesses, and a great number of Ladies, was not yet such as our Heroe could have desired. Assoone as all that Court were at the windowes which looked into the lists, and the Queene had given the signal, the trumpets advertis'd the Combatants of their devoir; the Spaniard gave spurs to his horse, and made him start and fly on like lightning: Polexander putting on his eager∣ly, and inveloping himselfe (as I may say) in a cloud of dust rais'd by his horses hoofs, met the Spaniard in the midst of the careere, and with the extreame shock he gave him, bore over horse and man, and made him roule two or three turnes on the ground. There was not a Lady (the Queene excepted) but began to cry out for joy; our Heroe the meane while attended till the Don was got up, who darting fire from his eyes, and blaspheming what was most venerable above, freed him from his horse, and came on with his sword drawne to avenge him on his enemie. Polexander, to take no advantage, alighted, and met him with an intent onely to disarme him; but the Spaniard made him know, he was truely courageous, and knew how to die with honour: for he would never either confesse himselfe vanquish'd, nor aske his life, though the blowes he receiv'd from that thundring arme, (to which no other is to be compared) made him feele sufficiently that he must either humble him selfe or die. Polexander often drew backe to give him time to thinke of his preservation, but perceiving he scorn'd it, thought himselfe not bound to value his life more then its master did; he therefore let drive so furious a blow on his head piece, that cleaving his skull, he laid him dead at his feet. The affrighted Queene seeing the defender of her extravagances so rigorously chastis'd, shot from her eyes as dreadfull flashes as those of comets, and commanded eight or ten Knights which were under the window, to avenge her on her enemy. They were not lesse barbarous then their Princesse, but came all cowardly rushing on Polexander, who so stoutly re∣ceiv'd them, that with the three first blowes, hee laid two of them along and dead; a third he made safe enough for fighting, and cast such a terrour among the rest, that had he delighted in bloud, he might have shed what he had listed without any hazard. Hee therefore contented himselfe with the driving those wretches before him, and thrusting them to the utmost list of the field: the Queene at the sight plai'd the mad woman, and ask'd her Ladies who had brought that devill into her-dominion; shee that was next to her, making a low reverence, and humbly beseeching to be heard, If your Majestie (said she) considers nothing but for the present, you may beleeve this stranger came hi∣ther for no other ends but such as might tend to your disadvantage: but if you cast your thoughts on what hath passed, and may betide, you will confesse that a particular prote∣ction from heaven hath sent you this redoubted. Knight to avenge you of the cruell Astramadan's tyrannie, and to extinguish for ever that bloudy tribute hee exacts from your subjects, for the safety of your owne person. Tisiphone (so was the Queene call'd) meditated a while on what the Lady spoke, and confessing to her selfe that Po∣lexander's preservation was very behovefull for her; shee staid those who were running to the defence of their companions, and with her loud and terrible voyce, commanding them to lay downe their weapons, sent word to Polexander to give over the prosecuting her servants, and come presently before her. Hee obeyed without disputing that Prin∣cesses will, and presented himself all arm'd save his head; she found him more pleasing in his armour then in the habit of a shepheard, and pardoning him the death of the Spani∣ard and her Knights; If (said she) you will obtain the liberty to love, you must avenge me on a Barbarian, who by his brutishnesse hath forc'd me to beleeve, that Love was a Mon∣•…•…er,

which perswaded us to nothing but cowardise and villanies. Tisiphone strove to sweeten her eyes as she spoke thus, and as if she had forgotten what she was, made the Ladies (which looked o•…•…) beleeve that she would not die in the detestation of love. Po∣lexander, that was otherwise too much amaz'd then to note the Queenes impertinen∣cies, promised her all she desired, and humbly besought her to hasten as much as possi∣bly she could the occasion in which shee would imploy him; and so tooke leave, and was (by her command) put in posssession of the unfortunate Castilians goods and lodg∣ings; presently he dispatched Diceus to his ship, to bring him thence such necessaries as he wanted, to call for Alcippus, and to give order to his Pilot to disanchor from the rode where he lay, and to ride in that of the palace. In lesse then foure houres all this was done, and Polexander clothing himselfe according to his birth, and the present con∣dition of his fortune, made appeare by a pleasing mixture, state and magnificence inter∣mingled with sorrow. His earnestnesse to acquit him of the promise to Tisiphone, scarce giving him leave to breathe, he went to her presently after supper; she welcom'd him with as smiling a countenance as she could put on, and looking on him with an attenti∣on which seem'd very strange to the Ladies, did a thousand braveries, and ingag'd her selfe so farre in a businesse she knew not, that she strai'd and was lost, without any hope of ever recovering her old way: she retir'd much later then she was wont, and had not her women advertis'd her of it, she had spent the whole night with Polexander. As∣soone as she was in bed, she strove to sleep, but she perceiv'd that some (I know not what) strange thoughts, and certaine unknowne desires, spight of her heart kept her eyes waking. At first she began to grow angry with her selfe, and having a spirit as in∣constant as malicious, shee alter'd her minde a hundred times in an houre; went from praises to reproaches, and in a word witnessed, whether in loving or hating too quick∣ly, that she was neither capable of love or hatred. When shee perceiv'd her thoughts were resolv'd to keep her awake, I will (said she) traitors as you are (which deceive in soothing) hinder you well enough from the prolonging your malice: I am not so farre from the Port, but I can enter againe when I list. Retire then ye too importu∣nate gusts, and hope not my voyage will be long unlesse the faire gale continue. Love, who intended to avenge himselfe on this extravagant woman, would not terrifie her with these beginnings: he gave her the calme she demanded, and rais'd not a tempest, till she had lost all kenning of the haven. She then slept, and the next more awaking with an extreame desire of re-seeing Polexander, she loaded her selfe with so many jew∣els, that if our Heroe had been covetous, he would certainly have found her very ami∣ble. But being not in humour to remarke ought of faire or foule in Tisiphone, he be∣sought her againe to send a defiance to her enemie, or be pleas'd himselfe might carry it. Tisiphone forg'd excuses to retaine Polexander neere her, and whether he would or no, oblig'd him to stay seven or eight dayes for the returne of such Heralds as she had sent to challenge her enemie. During which time Polexander abode alone, as long as he could be permitted; and one evening being retir'd into his chamber, Diceus adver∣tis'd him there was a Lady at the dore who desir'd audience; Let her enter if she please, (said Polexander) and straight way rising, went to receive her with his wonted courtesie. When shee was in place where she might speake unheard of his servants, she tooke a vaile off her face, and approaching the lights, Cast your eyes (said she) Polexander on a person which hath been sometime in your esteeme, to let her know you have not alto∣gether forgotten her. Our Heroe instantly knowing the Lady both by speech and countenance; Doe not (said he) mine eyes deceive me, or doe not I flatter my selfe with a vaine beliefe, if I take you for Amintha? No, (repli'd the Lady) you are not de∣ceiv'd, I am Amintha: but before I can relate by what chance I came into the service of this Princesse so differing from Alcidiana, I must acquit me of the commission she gave me, and tell you, that after I had been a long time your confident, I at last became hers. You laugh at so brave an employment, but when I have recounted my fortune, you will confesse I was not to deny Ti•…•…iphone in any thing. Doe me then the favour (said Polexander) to relate what your fortunes are, and (without losing time) the fol∣lies of this old woman. Presuppose I know them all already, and thereafter frame your selfe such an answer as you think I would make to your propositions. Truly (re∣pli'd

Amintha) you shall not scape so easily; you have made the wound, and you must worke a remedie; she spoke those words smiling, but perceiving Polexander tooke no pleasure in it; Know (said she) that Tisiphone is passionately in love with you, and be∣ginning to neglect her owne interest for feare of your losse, she deferres as much as she can the combate you are to have with Astramadan: but to instruct you who that Tyrant is, I will relate what hath betided me since I was stolne away. To begin my discourse of it well, it must be by rendring you all acts of gratitude for the obligation in which I am bound to your valour for avenging me on my greatest enemie, in killing Tisiphone's protectour; I cannot tell you on what humour that insolent Spaniard cast his eyes on me, the very day that Alcidiana came to the palace of the sea; but I can say, hee found me so pleasing his fancie, that knowing well he was not like to obtaine me by his merit, he resolv'd to get mee by cunning. To that end, hee came to my lodging like a mer∣chant, and having unfolded all that the luxurie of Spaine hath most voluptuously found out; he told me that he had a whole magazine of such things in his ship, and if I would goe downe to the haven, he would shew me such jewels and rarities as the Queene had not in her closet. I confesse freely to you that my curiositie which is farre more natu∣rall to me then distrust, made me give credit to that traitor; and besides, I that never had so good an opinion of my beautie as to beleeve my selfe worthy the stealing away, thought the Spaniard (who call'd himselfe a merchant of Lisbone) had no other designe then to sell well his merchandize. I put off that visit till next day, and promised him to come aboord in the morning, before Alcidiana was awake, which I perform'd, accompanied onely with an Esquire and two women. He took me into his shallop, without making shew of any thing that might give me the least suspition; and in a trice getting me into his ship, talked of nothing but of Spanish cut-workes, amber'd skins, Essences, and other the like commodities. But I was no sooner aboord then foure of his servants laid hands on my Squire, and strictly bound him; my selfe and my women were brought into the hinder cabin, and reduc'd to the estate of reclaiming your suc∣cour without hope of obtaining it. Whilst I made these unprofitable acclamations, and rail'd on the Spaniard for his impudence and treacherie, he made me be held by foure of his servants, and answered me not a word till his ship was farre off at sea. But when he had lost sight of Alcidiana's Island, and saw he was not pursued by any of her vessels, he commanded his men to leave me at libertie, and casting himselfe at my feet, Madam (said he) I am none of those infamous pirates which scowre the seas for all mens destru∣ction, and the dishonour of women: An offence of State made me lose the favour of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabell, but with it not the qualitie of a Prince, which can∣not be taken from me but with my life, though they deprived mee of all my fortunes due by birth-right. I was forced to abandon Spaine, and seeke my safetie a∣mong the dangers of the sea. The companions of my better fortunes have been sha∣rers in my adverse, and by a generositie, rare in the Courts of Kings, those true friends have stood constant in my miseries, and instead of abiding on the safe shore, when they saw me suffer shipwrack, threw themselves into the danger to witness their unparallel'd affection to me. These are they whom you see in my ship disguis'd like Souldiers and Mariners. I tell you this Madam, to free you from all feare, and fit you to beleeve, that being among men of qualitie, you are to apprehend nothing of violence: the greatest enemie you are to contest with, shall be the head-strong wilfulnesse of my too amorous inclination, it hath sometime made me aspire to the enjoying of a Princesse, which was one day to fill the throne of my King; and love who takes a pleasure (as well as for∣tune) in seconding all daring enterprises, had rendered all my services so acceptable to her that could reward them, that I was on the point of ravishing from the King of Por∣tugall all hope of the crowne of Castile. I cannot imagine you to be more rigorous then that Princesse, in denying t•…•… requests of a man who never yet made any in vaine. The Spaniards insolencie put me into a rage, and casting mine eyes on him more severely then my face and spirit promised, blaming him for his vainenesse so out of all apparance; I said, that at first I tooke him but for a pirate and a ravisher, but by his speech I held him for one most extreamly impudent, a•…•…a foole. I ascribe these reproaches to the strangenesse of your taking away, repli'd •…•…e Spaniard, and to your little knowledge of

my deservings: when time shall let you understand how rare those treasures are which my affection hath in store for you, I am most assured you will alter your language, and to preserve me wholly to your selfe, will not permit my returne to Spaine. To these he added many other flourishing bravadoes, but let them be buried with him; it shall suf∣fice me to relate that after I had been neere a moneth so sued to and persecuted, and as much cause to complaine against heaven, and aske Justice thence for the violence I was like to suffer; either it or the sea tooke compassion of my teares, which animated against my ridiculous lover, dash'd his vessell in pieces on this Island: I sav'd my selfe unawares upon some great fardles of corke, which my feare made me lay hold on. He was taken up by fishermen which casually met with him among the rockes where we were shipwrack'd. All the rest were drowned, I was presented to Tisiphone the same day we were cast away, and the morrow after, the Spaniard was led by the fishermen (who had sav'd him) to the worthy husband of that excellent Princesse. When shee heard of the danger I had escaped, she seem'd to have some feeling of it; but when shee under∣stood I had beene stolne away, and would never give consent to my ravishers desires; What (said she, cleane out of her selfe) you doe not love then? Is it possible (I repli'd) for any to love a thiefe and a traitor? You speake not enough (quoth the Queene) you must goe further, and say, It is not possible to love any man whatsoever. My fathers tyrannie hath inforc'd me to marrie the greatest enemie I have in the world; I speake it aloud, for I would have him know that my hatred increaseth daily, and if I meet not at last with some one of my subjects courageous enough to restore mee the libertie I am depriv'd of, I in my just indignation will finde strength enough to regaine it my self. Imagine whether I were terrified or no at the horrour of this first speech: But not knowing to what intent she had made it; I repli'd, that the hatred women might beare to men, could not (without blame) goe so farre as to their husbands. 'Tis to them (said the Queene) it should be most of all; for besides their being the tyrants over our liberties, they are to us continuall executioners, which, whether they flatter or abuse us, keep us night and day in torture, and are never taken by them from one, but to make us suffer a many others. At this second speech I was without an answer, and thinking my selfe not bound to contradict her, I intimated by my silence that I condemn'd her not. The first day I saw not the happy husband of that good Lady, but the next I had the pleasure of it; 'twas a Prince who truely was worthy the love his wife bore him; he was of a very ill looke, and a farre worse humour; he came to the Queen with a bru∣tish fullennesse, and presented her my ravisher with a certaine barbarous authoritie, which (not to lie) was capable enough to make me partly of Tisiphone's opinion. As∣soone as the Spaniard saw me, he gave an out-cry of admiration, and casting himselfe at the Queenes feet, Madam (said he) if your Majestie will have the honour to surmount that which o'recomes Kings, you have need of no other thing then to restore to mee a treasure which I thought had beene buried in the bottome of the Ocean. Fortune thought I had lost all that I could, but if you render me that Lady, (pointing to me) I make knowne that your Majestie will have inrich'd me with more then that blinde god∣desse hath depriv'd me of. Tisiphone presently imagining the Spaniard might be very usefull for her abominable designes, resolv'd to winne him, and to begin that divelish trafficke; This stranger is mine (said she) but if you be so venturous a merchant to buy her at my price, you shall have the first offer. The Spaniard answered, that if I were to be purchased by any action of valour, he would ingage himselfe to imploy his arme and sword both against heaven and earth to redeeme me. By that promise their conversa∣tion ended; but as if I had been borne the object of all extravagancies, Thersites (so was Tisiphone's husband called) fell in love with me, and thinking to witnesse extreamely well to me the greatnesse of his love, he spoke of it to every body, and took for his pri∣vate confidents such as were accustomed to serve him in his other passions. Tisiphone knew it assoone as I, and though she was neither capable of love or jealousie, yet was she of rage and vengeance. That made her precipitate her execrable intentions, she plot∣ted with the Spaniard, and neither disclosing to me nor any of her women her secret practises, so manag'd them, that Thersites 〈◊〉〈◊〉 found dead in his bed, and none could dis∣cover the instruments of the fact. Tisiphon•…•… a few dayes after sent his corps to Astra∣madan

his cruell brother, and withall proclaim'd warre against him. The Isle whereof he is Lord is not distant from this above a dayes saile; thither went the Spaniard with a fleete, and had so good fortune by his armes, that but for the incomparable valour of Astramadan, (who came from afar off to the aide of his territorie) he had beene abso∣lute master of. But that hardy Tyrant some three moneths since forc'd him from his Island, and I make no doubt but (to avenge himselfe) he had been already here, if hee could have gotten sufficient ships of war. Newes hath come to Tisiphone of his sending into Europe for vessells, and that assoone as they are arriv'd, he will imbarke his troupes to assaile her: she every day expects that enemie, and hath therefore set so many guards about her palace. But leave we Astramadan, and be pleased I goe on with the historie of Tisiphone; The death of her husband did but augment her aversion to all men, shee forbad on paine of death as well her subjects as strangers to come within three leagues of her palace, and to have alwayes before her eyes such objects as might confirme her in her hatred, and serve as instruments of her horrible cruelties; she sent into Africa for the most deformed and barbarous that could be found amongst the Negros: when they came, she commanded and made them cut the throats of all such as were of any eminent condition in her Court, and taking out of prison those whom her husband had cast there, gave them the title of Knights, and the places of greatest command and trust. That done, the Moores were chain'd, and rank'd about the castle to defend the accesses to it; the Spaniard was preserv'd not out of consideration of the services hee had done the Queene, nor that she thought her selfe bound to keep her word with him, but because she feared the arrivall of Astramadan, or rather that shee reserv'd him for the riddance of that tyrant in the same manner as she had freed her selfe from her husband. Now (since the Spaniard is dead) you are the man she will imploy in so notable an executi∣on, if you will hearken to her; or rather, if the affection wherewithall you have mira∣culously stung her, be not as miraculous to reforme the defects of so depraved a nature. After Amintha had related thus much, she stood a while looking on Polexander, and seeing he spoke not, thus went on; Since I have so well described the qualities of your lover, and discovered all that is most excellent in her, I hope I shall have no hard taske to perswade you to love her. Polexander casting forth a sigh from the bottome of his heart, Amintha (said he) you know my estate is too wretched to finde a diversion in Ti∣fiphone's extravagancies; I seeke for Alcidiana, I sigh after her, and wish for nothing but the felicitie of her sight, though since your absence she hath proclaimed mee for an offender, and by an irrevocable sentence, wills that I should be sacrificed on the altars of the God of Vengeance. What is't you say (quoth Amintha)? I tell you what is true, repli'd Polexander. Pallantus whom I met in the pirates Island, related to mee the particulars of my sad fortune. Yet Amintha let us returne if it be possible to Alci∣diana, and submit my selfe to all that so deare and obliging an enemie can inflict. I wish no lesse then you (repli'd Amintha) the happinesse of reviewing the Queene; but what Angell, or what Starre shall so direct our vessell that it may at last cast anchor in some one port of that inchanted Island? Either Love (said Polexander) will open us the way, or it shall never be discovered. You have often told me that perseverance never yet met with invincible difficulties: I will try whether Amintha can tell a lie, and spend all the remainder of my life in the quest of a happinesse that can never be too dear to me. But I am certaine that should the Island which you call inchanted be so farre, so as to change places every day of the yeare, nay, even to beguile all the art of Navigation, yet should it not be prevalent to hide it selfe from the travels, searches and perseverance of my affection. All that I want is a Guide that can well governe that passion: Be you so deare Amintha, persever to oblige a man that owes you all his happinesse, and be pleas'd that assoone as possible may be, I may with-draw you from a place too infamous, to have the honour of enjoying you. Amintha repli'd, that if his desire were to get from Tisi∣phone, he must force himselfe, and without being so cruell, comply (at least in shew) with the passion of that foolish woman. Our Heroe besought her againe not to laugh at an unfortunate man, but to beleeve heaven was too just to permit Tisiphone to retain that which was destinated for Alcidiana. Hereupon they parted, Amintha went to Tisi∣phone, to whom she gave so many hopes, that the mad woman beleev'd she had plea∣sure

enough in store for her whole life. Her joy was interrupted by the return of her He∣ralds, who related there were already arrived six ships, men of warre to Astramadan, and he expected yet fifteen or twenty more, with which he intended to invade her. Besides (said one of the Heralds) he hath charg'd us to tell your Majestie, that he will not deale with you as a lawfull enemie, but intends to prosecute you as the murderer of his bro∣ther, and put you to the most dreadfull torture and punishment that can enter into the imagination of his hangmen. As for the stranger Knights defiance, hee laughs at it; and sends word that if within three dayes he come not to him, he will not faile to meet him here with ten thousand men. The Queene was so affrighted with these threat∣nings that she was like to forgoe all her love: she sent for Amintha, and opening to her how her affaires stood, said, that to enjoy the company of Polexander longer, she was ingag'd to lose it for a few dayes: But (said she) since I have made a vow never to trust to any ones promise, I will not suffer Polexander to goe hence, till I have good caution for his returne: I will therefore keep you here, his servants, and his ship, for I am cer∣taine he cannot get from me whilst I have you in custody; he may saile to Astramadan in my gally, and for feare that tyrant may worke some treacherie against him, I will send along five hundred of my guard. But Madam (repli'd Amintha) you shew but little love to the Knight in hazarding him thus. What shall I doe (said Tisiphone) with any appearance of humanitie? I know well I thrust Polexander into danger, in sending him so weakly accompanied. The onely remedie I finde for this inconvenience is to breake off his voyage, and should I doe so, I draw on me all the forces of Astramadan. Let him therefore set saile assoone as may be, for I desire to have my minde at rest whatsoever betide me. Amintha went instantly to let our Heroe know those two re∣solutions of the Queene, and seeing him displeas'd at them; Never trouble your selfe (said she) for any thing, but how you may vanquish the cruell Astramadan: all the rest will be facile enough, yet I extreamely feare that tyrants perfidiousnesse; so doe I (said Polexander) the malice of Tisiphone. This discourse ended, they went both to the Queene, when Polexander instantly told her, he onely staid for a command to meete her enemie. Goe then presently, quoth the painted Megera: but remember brave Knight that my life depends onely on your valour, and your voiage must bring forth all that ever I shall enjoy of blisse or extreame misfortune. Polexander tooke leave of the woman with a resolution never to see her againe, and so went straight to imbarke himselfe with his Moores. He made his passage in fifteene houres, and at sun-set was within ken of the high towers which were built for the defence of Astramadan's port. Diceus, who alone of all our Heroe's servants had the libertie to accompany him, peti∣tioned his master to give leave that he might land with five or six Moores, and goe to Astramadan to sounder his intentions, and know in what manner he would entertaine him. Polexander who thought farre lesse on the combate he was about then on that he still waged with his discontent, yeelded to Diceus urgent supplication; and delive∣ring the challenge he had written before he departed from the palace of Tisiphone, com∣manded him to stay as short a time as hee could with Astramadan. This trusty servant landed with six Moores, and came quickly towards the place he was sent. As∣soone as he arriv'd at the port, he was staid, and when they understood whence he came, was receiv'd very civilly and brought to the Prince. Hee put one knee to the ground, when he saw the Majestie of him who had been describ'd for one most barbarous, and without shewing either feare or rashnesse, I belong (said he) to a Prince whose fame (may be) hath attain'd your eares; the hazards of the sea casting him on Tisiphone's Island, and finding her under the terrour of your armes, he thought himselfe oblig'd to undertake her defence. But to speake nothing from my selfe, See (said he, presenting his master's challenge) the reasons which have brought Polexander to fight with you in your owne territories; and neglect all considerations which might deterre him (if I may say so) from putting himselfe alone into the hands of a great many enemies. Astra∣madan answered not Diceus a word, but taking Polexander's challenge, he read it with a looke that well witnessed his choler, and after made the messenger this answer. Re∣turne to your master, and tell him I will make him know that he beleeves nought of Astramadan but what is true: the cause he gives me to be his enemie, shall not hinder

me from allowing him that entertainment his vertue deserves. To morrow I will at∣tend him in the place I have prepared for the giving that satisfaction he desires. The onely thing I have to complaine of him, is, the facilitie wherewithall he hath beene in∣gaged to defend such crimes as cannot be expiated but by everlasting punishments. Di∣ceus returned with that answer, and watch'd all night to put in order his masters equi∣page. At day-breake that Prince awoke after many •…•…bers interrupted with dreams and strange visions, and called for such armes as sufficiently witnessed the sad condition of his fortune. They were of an ashy colour, and there seene in many places sparkles which sparting from under the ashes, seem'd to intimate, that they nourished a fire which had no other aliment. Hic shield was of temper'd steele, which perfectly repre∣sented that blackish colour which is seen in an extreame deep water. In the midst was painted a Granado casting out fire on all parts, and these words graven round about it; [Nothing can quench it.] His horse's harnesse was of ash-colour'd velvet, one half of his plume was of the same hue, and the other like fire. Thus he came into the haven, and assoone as his horse was landed, he mounted and rid to the place for combate. He was but a while there when Astramadan came; That Prince clad in armour as polish'd as the best crystall glasse, made the sun-beames so extreamely reflect, that those which were about him scarce durst hold open their eyes. At the sound of the trumpets the two combatants parted from one another; but their meeting againe was farre otherwise: for Polexander received onely a fleight touch, but his enemie was incountered with so much vigour, that he was faine to catch hold on his horses mane, or else he had been born over his horses crupper. Our Heroe wondered to meete with so little addresse and strength in a personage which had been esteem'd almost invincible, but the sequell of the combate made him beleeve that Astramadan had put one of his Knights in his place. On that thought, he scorn'd to prosecute his victorie, and though the other came up to him very resolutely, he would not almost take the paines to fight; yet at last to put himselfe out of trouble, and to learne whereto tended so little advantageous a super•…•…∣rie, bore his sword to the face of that weake enemie, and of two good eyes making but one not worth a straw, tumbled him dead betweene his horses feet. Presently hee cast his eyes towards a place fill'd full with people, as if they had been there either as witnes∣ses of the death or cunning of Astramadan; but in the same time a new Knight en∣tered the lists, and calling to our Heroe to take heed to himselfe, threw away his sword, and came on him with his battle-axe. Polexander thought then that Astramadan had neither resolv'd to keep his word with him, nor by the halfe to make him sensible of his perfidiousnesse; yet could hee not conceive what his reason was to assaile him but with a single man at a time: but wanting time to ruminate on so giddy an infidelitie, he went to incounter that second enemie, and in lesse then nothing made him keepe companie with him that had begun the combate. After that second came forth a third, then another, after a fifth, and to him two more, who incomparably more valiant then their companions, held Polexander play above two houres, and press'd him so neere, that if that Demon of valour had not been produc'd to surmount all others; wee must surely beleeve that Astramadan had carried away the victorie without fighting. But when the tyrant saw his seventh champion laid along, he came into the lists, and com∣manding new lances to be brought Polexander, came to him on the gallop; Knight (said he at their meeting) I alwayes thought that a great Prince should never undertake any thing unworthy his courage and honour: I have therefore alwayes us'd to make tri∣all (by some of my Knights) of those with whom I was to incounter. Both the Prin∣ces of Morocco have passed this law; the Prince of Zanhara surnamed the Invincible, hath voluntarily submitted to it, and many others whom I will not name have return'd hence with dishonour, for not observing so reasonable a custome. Of all those Princes, two onely have been thought worthy to be chastis'd by my arme; thou art the third, and I confesse thy valour makes me jealous: and I beleeve that when I have overcome thee, it will not be the least act of my life. Polexander who found this manner of fighting very handsome, could not chuse but smile at it, but his disquiets quickly put him out of that humour; If (said he to Astramadan) the Knights of other Countreys had the invention to put their enemies to the like triall whereto thou puttest thine, there would

many a one have falne in combating, which might else have gone away victorious. When I shall travell (repli'd Astramadan) into strange countreys to defie such Princes as command there, I will make no difficulty to accommodate my self to their customes. Nor doe I (said Polexander) make any scruple in putting thine in practise, but 'tis fit I should know them before I be obliged to their observance: neverthelesse let us make an end of that which thy Knights have begun, and let not the inequality which is now betweene us be the cause of thy ingaging mee to new trialls. With that Polexander turn'd from him, and went to chuse the strongest he could finde amongst a great many lances. Astramadan tooke an extraordinary great one, and came against his enemie with an incredible furie. Polexander recollected all his strength, and carried with a just desire of vengeance, ran against his enemie with all the swiftnesse his horse had left him. The lances flew into shivers, Astramadan's pierc'd his adversaries shield; But our Heroe ran through both his enemies shield and cuirats, and gave him a great wound on the left side, from whence the tyrant lost a great deale of bloud, but his rage being farre more then his paine, he drew his sword, and with it charg'd Polexander with such horrible blowes, that at first all he could doe was either to ward or avoid them. At last he reveng'd himselfe, and made his Antagonist feele, he could as vigorously make use of his sword as of his lance. Hee made his cuirates fly in a thousand pieces, and with a back-blow (which is not almost imaginable) he not onely parted his helmet but cleft his head in two. The tyrant's death ended not the combate, for though Polexander were cover'd with wounds and had scarce force to uphold himselfe, yet he was constrain'd to renew his forces. A woman (all dischevel'd) entered the lists with a sword in her hand, and inciting every one to fall on our Heroe; Can you indure (my friends, cry'd she) that the inhumane Tisiphone's Protector, shall returne to her with your and my Lord's head? But should you prove so cowardly as not to dare revenge him, and so in∣gratefull as to forget the benefits you have receiv'd, I alone fill'd with a just resentment, will on, and inforce from him the soule of this murderer. Those words were so power∣full that all they about the barriers which had weapons flew on Polexander, and not ca∣ring for death forc'd him at last to yeeld to their number. Diceus gave then a great proofe of his wonted fidelitie: he fought till he was so wounded, that he came and fell for dead at his masters feet. The multitude was not contented with that revenge, but being on a further prosecution, saw themselves assail'd by divers troupes which came from the sea-side, which flew with fire and sword through all the streetes of the city. Those that abode in the field were slaine, and the rest which had retir'd themselves into some advantageous places, after a little resistance ran the same fortune. The ships in the haven were burnt, and the towne almost wholly on a fire: the flame for the whole night made a new day, the better to discover the run-awayes to the cruell prosecution of the vanquisher. This succour a little too late for Polexander, was conducted by Ti∣siphone her selfe: Love causing in that Furie, what crueltie had done in other times. She put to sea presently after Polexander, and with such forces as she had ready, followed him, either to make use of his victorie if he overcame, or not to over-live him if hee were slaine. She landed from her ship by the light of the burning towne, and under∣standing how great a massacre her men had made on those of Astramadan; she call'd be∣fore her some Inhabitants of the Island, which had escap'd the Souldiers furie, and que∣stion'd what was become of their Prince and the Knight who fought with him. They answered, that Polexander after he had slaine seven Knights belonging to Astramadan, and their master to boote, had been assaulted by that Prince's guard, and slaine after an incredible resistance. No sooner did Tisiphone heare this newes, but she caus'd those poor innocents to be taken, and their throats cut before her: that cruell execution satisfied not her fury; she hasten'd to the place of combate, and commanded her Souldiers to re∣spect neither sex nor age, Palace nor Temple. Whilst those barbarous people with a great deale of pleasure executed so horrible a command, Tisiphone sought every where for our Heroe, but he was not there where she thought to have found him. Some little while after Diceus was falne (as dead) at his masters feet, he came to himselfe, and though he were exceedingly wounded, his affection yet gave him, if not strength enough, at least courage sufficient to surmount his misfortune, and indeavour to serve the King

his master. Hee at first sight knew him by his armes, and plucking him out from ma∣ny bodies which in dying were falne on him, did all his art had learn'd him, to see if there were any life left in him; for Polexander throwing forth weake fighes, and now and then groaning, made him conjecture he was yet in case to be assisted. Presently hee tooke on the very place some of the earth, mollified by the quantity of bloud which had been there shed, and clapp'd it on his masters wounds. After he saw hee was come to himselfe, Sir (said he) 'tis not enough that you live, but (if possible it may be) wee must worke so that your enemies know not of it: trie therefore to get hence, whilst the tu∣mult, the night and distraction, gives you some meanes to escape. Polexander (who knew no more then Diceus of Tisiphone's arrivall) thought there was no other fit means for his safety then what Diceus had propounded: To make use of it, he quitted the re∣mainder of his armour, and covering himselfe with certaine skinnes which hee found on some of those he had slaine, (with a great deale of paine) followed Diceus. At every foote, he ask'd who had set Astramadan's city on fire: Diceus (who thought on nothing but how to save his master) answer'd he knew not; and so slincking from the light as much as he could, passed through divers companies of men without any the least stay. At last he got out of the inflamed towne, but taking a way cleane contrary to that of the haven, he led Polexander two or three houres through narrow pathes that lay betweene two little hills. The losse of bloud constrained the Prince through weaknesse to lay him downe, and he had infallibly falne againe into another swoune, if Diceus had not given him some graines of an exceeding cordiall composition. That faithfull servant thinking his master could bee in no safety whilst hee was in the power of those traitors that had so unworthily wrong'd him, went along the shore to see whether he were farre from the haven. He had not gone above fifty paces but he met with a pretty broad Ri∣ver, which rolling downe head-long from the top of the hill into the sea, stopp'd his fur∣ther passage. This obstacle would have almost made him desperate, but that he instant∣ly spi'd (through the darke) a little boat made fast neere the banke of the torrent; into it he went, and finding there five or six oares, thought it not best to neglect a conveniency which was (as it were) miraculously offered him. Backe therefore went he to Polexan∣der, and intimating to him that extreame misfortunes aske the like remedies: Your good hap (said he) should it bring you from hence to the Canaries in a simple boate, will have wrought no greater miracle then it hath done in preserving your life, after the receiving so many wounds, and among so many enemies. Never then deliberate, (I beseech you) and betide what may, give not to the most perfidious of men, time to perfect their revenge. Polexander arising with a great deale of paine, Come (said he to Diceus) let's goe since thou wilt have it so, and bestow on the sea that body which thou deniest the earth. Without any more words he went on, and having no other armes then his sword, came to the rivers side, where entering the boat (by the help of his trusty servant) and cutting the rope that fastned it, the impetuousnesse of the streame bore him farre off into the sea with an extreame swiftnesse. At the same time, Tis•…•…phone, equally transported with griefe and choler for the losse of that Prince, and intending to avenge it to the utmost, came to the place of combate; shee was attended by Amintha, Alcippus, and other of our Heroe's servants; and as if the flame of so many houses had not (to her wish) cast light enough for her searching, she caus'd a great many torches to belighted, that she might not mistake, but at last finde Polexander either alive or dead. Being come to the place where the slaughter had beene greatest, she her selfe turn'd and remov'd a great many bo∣dies, and finding not that of, her Protector, began an incredible lamentation. In the meane while, Alcippus, who with a torch in his hand searched more narrowly then shee, came to the place from whence Polexander was newly gone, and knowing his armour, cri'd out, that he was certainly dead. His light fell out of his hands, and lifting them aloft, O Heaven! (cry'd he) jealous of extraordinary vertue, hast thou permitted an infa∣mous rout to extinguish by an obscure death the bravest life of the world? With that hee turned to Tisiphone, and presenting her his tasses, and one of Polexanders gantlets, See (said he) all that you shall finde remaining of that Prince whom you have delivered into the hands and to the mercy of these murderers. Tisiph one going out of one furie that had some bounds, to another which had none at all; tooke Polexanders gantlet, and pre∣senting

it to the dead, as if they had beene in case to heare her, Villaines (cri'd she) who for these many yeares have been the authors of my afflictions, what have you done with Polexander after you had kill'd him? Shall I not have the comfort to injoy him dead, since it was deni'd me living? Seeke (said she, turning to Amintha and Alcippus) seek, ye faithfull servants of that unfortunate Prince, and if ye cannot finde his body, at least finde me his sword. What! you hearken to me, but assist me not, and instead of prose∣cuting your search, content your selves with unprofitable teares and lamentations. With that she cast her selfe on the ground, and besmearing her hands and clothes in re∣moving many bodies drown'd in their bloud; continued till almost day-break that hor∣rible exercise. At last she found out Astramadan, and her hatred (all goary as he was) making her know him, she seem'd to be infinitely joy'd at that incounter: instantly she began extreamly to raile on him, and finding a sword cut off his eares and his nose; and the inraged woman (not to be satiated at halfes) commanded two of her Moores to strip the wretched Prince, and assoone as he was naked, she ran the sword in∣to his body, and rending his breast, and tearing out his heart, Accursed heart (cri'd shee) how unfortunate am I, that thou art no more capable of suffering. How glad should I be couldest thou revive againe, and become sensible, that thou might'st feele the extre∣mitie of my hatred and torments! but as dead as thou art, I must teare thee in pieces, and taste at least the shadow of that pleasure I had enjoyed in eating thee alive. To it, Tisiphone, glut thy selfe with this accursed heart; avenge thee as much as thou can'st, since thou canst not as much as thou wouldest: and intermingling love, hatred, despaire, revenge and death together, give succeding times a prodigious example what a wo∣man can doe, when she is as hardy as she is unfortunate. With these words the inra∣ged woman gnaw'd off and swallowed a piece of Astramadan's heart; and whether that dismall morsell choak'd her, or (as 'tis most likely) the excesse of her furie discompos'd all that order of nature which preserves life, so it was that she fell starke dead at Amin∣tha's feet, and freed her age of a monster which had made Heaven accus'd of Injustice, had she not been punished by an exemplary chastisement. Amintha, Alcippus, and o∣thers of Polexander servants, being delivered from that womans tyrannie, thought of nothing but on what they had lost: Dead Polexander was the onely object which be∣came master of their thought. They invited one another to weepe and bewaile him, and to preserve his memorie for ever among them, made a vow to keepe more charily then their lives, the reliques that were left of him. Amintha tooke the gantlet which Tisiphone let fall in dying, Alcippus his helmet, and distributed the other pieces of his Princes armour to his most affectionate servants: which done, he erected a pillar in the midst of that fatall place, and fastning to it Astramadan's armour, all broken as it was; tooke a great shield which he found all whole on the ground, and writ thereon with bloud these words following:

Polexander for the eternall memory of his Victo∣ry, and Astramadan's Treachery, in the midst of this by fire consumed Towne, hath here fix'd his Enemy's Armes which he lost with his life.

This Trophie being erected, Amintha and Alcippus returned to the port, and imbarking themselves in our Heroe's vessell, thought of nothing more then how to accomplish the vow they had made to eternize the lamentation for his death. But he (in the meane time) laid along in his boate without any more strength then what might suffice him to undergoe his many wounds, was row'd on by the weake armes of Diceus, or rather by fortune, who desirous to belie those who accus'd her of that Prince's death, imploy'd all her endeavours to preserve his life. His boat made mighty quicke way, whilst it was carried by the violent swiftnesse of the torrent; but when that impetuousnesse was lost in the bosome of the Ocean; Diceus perceiv'd he had not strength enough to handle the

oares, and imagining straight he had lost his master in striving to save him, did so vively resent it, that the most of his wounds opened againe, and he the second time fell for dead at his masters feet. The Prince beleev'd he was so indeed, and bestowing on him some teares as the last tokens of his affection: Goe Diceus, (said he) goe to thine eter∣nall rest; and if Fidelitie as the most necessary vertue, is the most worthily recompenc'd, take thy place among the highest thrones which Eternitie reserves for the truly blessed; I shall soone follow thee, and restore (if I dare hope it from the mercy of Heaven) the prsence of that master whom thou hast alwayes so extreamely loved. After he had spoke thus, he stood some time without losing his sight and yet not seeing any thing; but by little and little growing weaker, it seem'd to him as if a thicke cloud tooke all light from him. Then indeed 'twas he thought he should die, and that the judgements of heaven laying before him the vanities of his youth, as so many causes of his condemnation, and the ill imployments in which he had exercised his life; hee fell to his oraizons. After which he left all knowledge, and lay a long while be twixt dead and alive. In which time his boat carried by the waves out of sight of the desolate Island, floated almost two dayes at the will of the the winde, which having no lesse care of him then it would for a nest of Halcions, brought them happily to an Isle, where Polexander and Diceus reco∣vered againe that life which they had more then halfe lost. Truly that succour betided them, whence with reason they could not expect any, and heaven permits it, to teach us, that sooner or later a good action shall have a due recompence. In the very place where Polexander's boat arriv'd, there lay a ship at anchor which had been but ill hand∣led by the late tempests; the masts were broken, the rudder torne off, and the body. open in many places: at sight of our Heroe's boat, a great many men very fantastically clad came on the hatches, and some of them getting into a little skiffe, came close to it. They no sooner saw Polexander, and Diceus stretched out, as dead, but their commise∣ration made them resolve, either to relieve them if they were alive, or if not, to be∣stow the last dues on their corps. One lay downe close by our Heroe, and lifting up his head, did not onely wash his face with the sea-water, but holding his mouth close to the Princes, perceiv'd he had yet a little breathing. If his joy w•…•…e great, his cha∣ritie was a great deale more, for instantly he gave him of a drug whose vertue was so powerfull and speedy, that he no sooner (almost) had it in his mouth, but his weak sen∣ses regain'd part of their ordinary vigour. Diceus had no need of that remedy, for his owne strength o'recame his long swouning, and as he was talking, and about to aske the King his master, if he were yet alive, he prevented him; and speaking (without opening his eyes) Is it thy voyce I heare Diceus? (said he weakly) tell me; and come neerer to thy Polexander, who as well as thee, is now no more then a shadow, wandering for his of∣fences in eternall obscuritie. Polexander's voyce so astonish'd the man who so charitably assisisted him, that he gave a great exclamation, and divers times repeared the name of Polexander. When he had done, he arose, and earnestly gazing on our Heroe, began to cry out louder then before, and with gestures which shewed the extremitie of his ad∣miration, Come (said he, to his companions) and see, this is certainly Polexander. O what a happy shipwracke have we made! since it hath cast us on a place where we meet with him whom we had vainly sought for in all the world else. But what said I? ra∣ther O infortunate incounter, since we finde this great Prince in so different a state from that wherein our master the Ynca imagin'd wee should see him! Polexander was too weake to reply, and Diceus too languishing to understand them well; they opened their eyes together, but 'twas rather to take their leaves of light then to enjoy it; and certain∣ly it had been so without the extraordinary assistance of those charitable strangers. For five or six dayes together they watch'd the master and his servant, and treated them with so much affection, that forgetting what they ow'd themselves, they thought not of repairing their ship. In that while, Polexander began to be well strengthen'd, and knew who had sav'd his life: But 'twas not without a great deale of wonder; Is it possible (said he to one of them) that you are Garruca? The same, (repli'd that charitable friend) doubt it not; and to bring you newes from your deare Zelmatida I have thrice crossed the Ocean. Polexander imbrac'd him, and rendering many thankes for the travells he had undergone for his sake; Zelmatida then (said he) hath at last carried away the victory

o're what he so long contested? My Lord (repli'd Garruca) knowing the generousnesse of your soule, and her contempt of the worlds greatnesse, I aske not what victorie you meane: but Zelmatida is fully victorious, and though he be not seated in the throne of the Yncas, and the brutish ambition of Atabaliba threatens him with lasting warre and horrible revolutions; yet I may well say, he is fully a conquerour, since the incompara∣ble vertue of Izatida hath worthily recompenc'd the travels of that incomparable Lover. If thou desirest I should live (said Polexander) my deare Garruca, if thou wouldst (in the midst of my afflictions) make me capable of any contentment, I intreat thee to relate the end of thy masters miseries. Without much trouble (quoth Garruca) I obey, since to expresse a happinesse so long sought for so many years, and for which, so long and so vio∣lent miseries have been indured, there needs but two or three words. You may there∣fore be fully satisfi'd when I have said, the Ynca my master is the Princesse Xaira's hus∣band. Manage a little better my joy, said Polexander, and doe not thus precipitate my contentment, but let me receive by little and little a potion that may free me from the sense of all my afflictions. Call to minde the Island where Zelmatida and my self parted, and keepe him not twenty or thirty dayes at sea before hee speakes with Izatida: Say they came to Quasmes with all necessary circumstances, satisfie the desire I have of the parents and daughters knowing each other. And lest thou mai'st ancipitate my imagination, bring me ere I be aware to that happy day, wherein, by the losse of Izatida, I may see the fatall Xaira borne againe. I will, (said Garruca) since 'tis your pleasure and command, to give you satisfaction, repli'd Garruca: but first be pleas'd I give you my Kings letters, and let you know how the good Quasmes resents so many favours vvherewithall you have eternally oblig'd himselfe, his sonne, and his daughter. With that Garruca went to his cabin (by Polexanders leave) and return'd with a little boxe made very artificial∣ly of foure wonderfull great Emeralds: he open'd and presented it to Polexander, who tooke out eight or ten little plates of gold, which being put one on another, shew'd them divers characters, which signified this that followes.

Quasmes the unworthy Image of that Deity he knowes not, to Polexander inlightned by the everlasting Sun.

IF I durst doe it without blasphemy, I would call thee (great Prince) the tutelary An∣gell of my estates, my kingdome, and my selfe. Thou hast all alike preserv'd us, and my old age should have beene more unfortunate then ever, if thy goodnesse had not ta∣ken pity on my afflictions, and thy charitable hands wip'd off teares, in drying the source which seem'd to make them eternall. My poore Xaira, without thy assistance, had been more lost to her desolate father, then shee was in the very dungeons of Montezuma: I confesse I owe thee for her, and if I chance to live in my posterity, I must withall acknow∣ledge thee to be the cause of my second being. I am transported with a sacred rapture as often as my dear Zelmatida unfolds to me the mysteries thou hast reveal'd to him; and tels me that our soules shall one day be more resplendent starres then those which make their nightly geers over our heads. What can I render to thee, O thou deare childe of heaven, for such things as inforceth us to respect our gold, our pearles and emeralds, as the excrements of the unfortunate land we inhabite? Nothing certainely since in in∣joying the knowledge of the true Deity, thou hast the sole treasure which all mortalls can wish for: 'Tis thy part therefore to continue thy liberalities, and not expect from our acknowledgement but a just and insatiable desire of daily receiving more. Garruca whom vve send to thee, to make thee partaker of our common joyes, is particularly commanded to receive thy instructions, touching the vvonderfull effects of love, of that Deity thou hast made knovvne to us; •…•…ch him (if it please thee) those truths so much importing our happinesse, and make him comprehend for vvhat cause that eternall Monarch vvould put himselfe in the place of his enemies, to deliver them from those pu∣nishments to vvhich they vvere by him justly condemned.

After Polexander had read this letter, he cast forth many pious ejaculations; and in the meane while Garruca put up the little plates into their box, and delivering it to the Prince, gave him withall Zelmatida's and Xaira's letters, very neatly written in vellam. He opened the King's, and read this.

Zelmatida Successour of the Yncas, to Polexander, the greatest of the Croseat Princes.

IF my happinesse had depended on any thing else then the enjoying of Izatida, I would have staid till time had seated me in the throne of my forefathers, to have made known to you that I am perfectly fortunate: but since (without yeelding ought to my affection) I am certaine, that the great Empire of •…•…inacapa cannot be to •…•…e but a great hinderance, I will not say a great misfortune; should I not be injurious to Izatid•…•…'s vertue, if I were no more, without assuring you that there wants nothing to make me per∣fectly happie? I will say it boldly Polexander, and the rather because I have daily •…•…ew as∣surances, that imagination represent•…•… to us contentments infinitely below their realitie: mine have gone beyond my hopes and thoughts, and leave on my hands neither trouble nor care, but what ariseth from my inabilitie of representing them as they are resented. I hope time will give me eloquence sufficient to expresse them: in the meane while, I wish you were well skild in so sweet and pleasing a language, and that the enjoying Alcidiana had taught you all the graces and ornaments of it.

POlexander sigh'd often whilst hee read the letter, •…•…nd was pleas'd to witnesse by that sad language that he was as yet ignorant of Zelmatida's. He put up his letter againe into a little box of diamonds which serv'd as for a coverture; and tooke that of the Princesse Xaira, which spoke thus.

Xaira to her Benefactor POLEXANDER.

AFter the letters of the King my father, and my Lord Zel•…•…ida, I should have nothing left to write, if your obligations wherein I am 〈◊〉〈◊〉 did not furnish me with such thoughts as neither of them could conceive. I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 therefore tell you, that as the contentments which each of them •…•…aste apart, are only re•…•…ted in me; so the resentment of your favours which is divid•…•… betwixt them, is altogether intirely treasu∣red in my soule. One of them contemplates you 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 d•…•…liverer of his daughter, and the other as the preserver of hi•…•… wife: but I consider you as a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Angell, by whose as∣sistance, with the sight of my body, I have recovered the eyes of my soule; and with a most worthy husband, a father, whose like the world containes not. These truely are extreame obligations, I yet desire their 〈◊〉〈◊〉; and to obtaine it, I joyne my humble requests with the intreaties of the King •…•…y father, and the Prince my lord, and beseech you with them, that you will perfect the discoverie to us of those light•…•… by which you have begun to draw us out of that darknesse wherein we languished with the rest of our world.

POlexander put off the answering those letters to another time, and admiring no lesse the pietie then the affection of those truely royall mindes: it had beene very

hard (said he to Garruca) if that persons of so eminent a vertue should have lesse solid contentments then those they now injoy. The Deitie whom they love and seeke with so much fervencie, should not be what he ought to be eternally, if after the tri∣all of their constancies by so many adversities they had not been crown'd with all kind of gifts and consolations. Garruca being very glad that this discourse led him out of it selfe to that which was the most important of his Embassy, told Polexander that his Kings seem'd to be ordained by Heaven to drive all Idolatrie out of the new world, and do that by their pietie and good examples, what the Spaniards vainly pretended by their cruellties and tyranny. I shal with a great deal of joy (said Polexander) give satisfaction to Quasmes in what he desires from me, and we will not part, till I have not onely given you instructions, but withall Doctors, that shall attend you into the new world, for the perfection of so pious a worke. Thus ended their converse for that time, and Zelma∣tida's last adventures were put off to the next conveniency. Two or three dayes passed, during which, our Heroe variously perplext with his adverse fortune, was not capable of any diversion? he besought a hundred times in the day for an end of his miseries; and ad∣dressing himselfe to Heaven, I acknowledge (said hee) I doe too stubbornely persist a∣gainst the will of the infinite Wisdome; I search after a happinesse is forbidden me, and forsake what I am commanded to follow: Change my intention if it be absolutely ill; but 'twill be more easie to exterminate the offender then rout out the crime. After this petition he resign'd himselfe wholly to that Providence which at once he invoak'd to his succour and destruction, and promising an indifferency whereof he was incapable, was a few moments as insensible of that excesse of love he bore to Alcidiana.

The end of the second Book of the fourth Part of Polexander.

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.

The end of the third Booke of the fourth Part of Polexander.