Clelia, an excellent new romance the whole work in five parts, dedicated to Mademoiselle de Longueville / written in French by the exquisite pen of Monsieur de Scudery, governour of Nostredame de la Garde.

CLELIA. A New Romance. The Fourth PART. The Third BOOK.

THE people of Rome understanding, the figure made at Veii by Tarquin's command, was arriv'd, testified an extream joy thereupon. Nothing so easily communicating it self as superstition in the minds of the Multitude. The Consul Horatius in the absence of Publicola, caus'd the figure to be plac'd in the Tem∣ple of Jupiter, and gave permission to Telanus to re∣turn. So that having no pretext to continue long∣er at Rome, he was constrain'd to depart from thence, and take leave of those illustrious persons, with whom he had pass'd some dayes so delightfully. 'Tis true, he lest his heart with the aimiable Ploti∣na, and return'd with his mind so fill'd with the excellency of his Lady, that as couragious as he was, he heartily wisht the war would soon be end∣ed. He parted from Amilcar with much dearness, notwithstanding his being his Rival; but for the three other his Rivals, he bad them not adieu. His civility was greater towards Clelia, to whom he made a thousand protestations of friendship, as like∣wise to Octavius, who being better recover'd, had a long conversation with him before his departure, to oblige him to serve Aronces to the utmost of his power, since he was going to be of the same Party, intreating him to be confident, that if he could find occasion of seeing him, he would promote his inte∣rests faithfully with Clelius, and against Horatius. After which this generous Veientine having thanked Clelius for all the favours he had received from him, departed from Rome, where the same day there ar∣riv'd news which was not very acceptable. For in∣telligence was brought, that Porsenna was so dili∣gent in assisting Tarquin, that in a little time the troops of Veii and Tarquinia, would be united with his; and that he had resolv'd to be in person in the head of his Army. It was also inform'd that Pub∣licola would return within three dayes, because hav∣ing been advertiz'd by Herminius, that there was beginning of division in the Senate since his de∣parture, he judged it more important to take care for the assuring of Rome, than to preserve the out∣places of it. Besides his Army being too weak to undertake to sustain the first attempt of that of the King of Hetruria, when the Forces of the Veientines, and those of Tarquin should be added to it, he thought it better to let the Enemies cool and wea∣ken themselves, before he offered to fight them. The vertue of Publicola being highly respected by all the Romans, the news of his return produc'd a good effect in Rome. They who had begun to di∣vide themselves reunited, and had not the boldness but to appear zealous for their Country, before a man, who had no other interest, and who, having all the People at his devotion, might easily punish them for their delinquency. The return of Publi∣cola was no doubt very acceptable to Valeria; but Mutius coming back with him, diminisht part of her joy; because he had such a kind of haughtiness in his deportment, that she had rather this impe∣rious Lover would alwayes have been at the war, than return'd to Rome. The forces being also to come back, Clidamira and Berelisa thought fit to defer their journey to Praeneste, till the return of the Army: and moreover Artimedorus being at Rome, they had no great impatience to leave it. But as for this Prince, he ardently wisht Berelisa had been there alone, having scarce any opportunity of see∣ing her without Clidamira; for which reason he took no delight in seeing her, and was more fre∣quently with Clelia than with her; for this aimia∣ble Lady looking upon him as Aronces his friend, and a wise, good and discreet Prince, to whom she might communicate all the secrets of her soul, had very much affection and complacency for him. As they were one day together, a Slave of Artimedorus brought him a Letter, which oblig'd him to take leave of her, without telling her the cause of it. Tho the same night he return'd to her, to beseech her she would please to take a walk the next day with Valeria, Cesonia, and Plotina, in a Garden not far from the Sublician bridge. Clelia not caring for divertisement, desir'd to be excus'd, but Artimedo∣rus telling her the business was to do a good office to Valeria, and that he could not discover more of it to her, she promis'd she would be ready when Cesonia, Valeria, and Plotina should come to call her, knowing Sulspicia would not refuse to let her go with those Ladies, her dear friends. And accordingly the next morning, they whom Artemidorus had nam'd, came to her house, there being no men in the company be∣sides Artemidorus and Herminius. As they were go∣ing to the Garden, Clelia ask'd Valeria what service she desir'd of her? I should rather (answer'd she) desire to know what I may do for your service; for Artemidorus has told me you had need of me in rela∣tion to some affair. It is to be believ'd then (reply'd Clelia) that 'tis he that has need of us: but, in refe∣rence to my self I cannot but think him too blame for taking such a course, since I should serve him with joy. In my opinion (said Valeria) it must be for something which Berelisa is concern'd. Then they asked Cesonia and Plotina, if they knew what the bu∣siness

was, which occasioned their going to that Garden. For my part (answered the first) I know no more of it, but that Artemidorus told me you both desir'd me to accompany you thither, and to take Plotina with me. 'Tis some satisfaction to me (said Clelia) that we shall soon know what the business is with us. When these Ladies were arriv'd at the gate of that garden, where Artemidorus and Hermi∣nius waited for them, they lighted from their Chari∣ot, and entered into the Garden, where they found no person at all; wherefore they demanded what was the design of their coming thither. Be not im∣patient (answered he) you shall know it presently; but you shall not know altogether, but severally, what has induc'd me to deceive you, and bring you hi∣ther; at least Clelia and Valeria shall be together in one place, whilst Cesonia and Plotina shall be in ano∣ther. If Artemidorus had not been well known to these four persons, this would have occasion'd strange thoughts in them: but being ascertained how pru∣dent and discreet he was, their curiosity did not in∣quiet their minds at all. But (said Plotina) I desire to be satisfied, whether Herminins be more knowing than we are; He shall be so presently (answered Ar∣temidorus) for he shall know all, that shall be told Cle∣lia and Valeria, tho not till after them. For my part (said Herminius) I desire never to know any thing concerning my friends, but what they are willing I should. After this Artemidorus having been to give order that none should be admitted into the Garden, led Cesonius and Plotina into a walk which was on the far side, where they found an old man, who no soon∣er beheld Plotina, but he knew her, altho it was a very long time since he had seen her. But this fair Virgin could not know him otherwise than by his voice, and was some time before she could recollect her self. At length calling him to mind, she testified much joy to see him, and believing he was her Uncle, made him a thousand caresses; Alas! (said she to him, embracing him) where have you been for so long time? You shall know (answered he) when I have opportunity to tell you without any other witness than Cesonia, to whom I know you have such great obligations, that 'tis fit she be acquainted with all your fortune. Alas! (reply'd Plotina) my fortune is very easie to know; for when I have said I have lost my father and my mother, while I was yet in the cradle, and alwayes liv'd with the vertuous Aegesile your wife, till my departure from Ardea, I shall have said almost all. You so little know your self (an∣swer'd this sage old man) that you cannot well speak of your self, till after I have told you who you are Artemidorus judging that his presence was not neces∣sary in this place, and knowing that it was elsewhere, left Cesonia and Plotina with him that had so many important things to tell them, and returned to Cle∣lia, Valeria, and Herminius. But to accomplish his design; he intreated Herminius to stay with him, and desir'd those two persons that they would please to go a side into a little Garden separated from the great one, where there was a little knot of flowers, enclos'd with pales and myrtles. So that these two fair virgins seeing there was no great danger in do∣ing what Artemidorus desir'd, enter'd into it. Which they had no sooner done, but they beheld Aronces ap∣pear, coming forth of a little Arbor at a corner of the Garden. This sight surpris'd them strangely, but e∣specially Clelia, who in the first instant resented no∣thing but joy in seeing her dear Aronces. Who, as soon as he beheld her, saluted her very respectfully, and approacht towards her with all the transport that a true love can cause in a Lover, whose heart is tender and sensible, when he again sees the Person he loves, after a long absence. I have at length, Ma∣dam, (said he to her) in spight of all the obstacles that oppose my happiness, at least the satisfaction of being able to tell you all my misfortunes, and to un∣derstand from your mouth, what you will command me to do. Being assur'd Valeria knows all the secrets of your heart, that she is generous, good and faith∣ful, I have been willing she should know I am here; for tho I have the unhappiness to have a father who is Tarquin's Protector, yet, I think, I ought not to be suspected by her. You have reason my Lord (an∣swered that discreet Virgin) not to be distrustful of me; for I have so high an esteem of your vertue, that excepting Clelia, there is no person in the world was more affected with your loss than my self: and indeed (added she) I see already so much fright upon Cle∣lia's countenance, for seeing you so near Rome, where you have more violent enemies than you believe, that I cannot but fear lest you should be seen. And therefore whilst you are speaking with Clelia, it will be convenient for me to take care that you be not perceiv'd. Clelia would have withheld her; but she retir'd back to the gate, where Artemidorus and Her∣minins were discoursing together, and from whence she might see, but not hear them. Assoon as she was at a convenient distance, Clelia addressing to him, I confess to you, Aronces, (said she) the first senti∣ment I had in seeing you, afforded me joy, but alas! my reason begins to destroy it; for my father hates you almost as much as he formerly lov'd you; Hora∣tius loves me more ardently than ever; his Kins∣man is the second Consul, and Publicola is not at Rome. My brother no doubt is alwayes for your in∣terests; but my father has so strong a belief it was you that wounded him in the battel, that he cannot indure you should be nam'd in his presence; and when he goes to exaggerate your wounding of his son with the same sword he had given you hereto∣fore, he is so transported against you, that my mo∣ther dares not so much as offer to excuse you. I have here understood this unjust accusation by Artemidorus (answered Aronces); but if it were as easie for me to be happy, as it will be to justifie my self from it, I should be less to be pityed than I am. For it was not possible for me to have that sword at the battel, in which I served Rome happily enough, and Octavius was wounded, since Tarquin caus'd me to be put in prison at my departure out of Rome, and it was ta∣ken from me; and when I got out of prison, there was no care taken to restore it to me; for I under∣stood the Prince had given it to an Officer who took me. Besides, the sword I had in the battel when I was taken with Horatius, was broken in my hands before I was made prisoner. Thus this accusation fals of it self; and if I had known it sooner, I should have long since been justified in the opinion of Cle∣lius and Octavius. As for my brother (answered she) he has been generous to believe that you wound∣ed him unawares, and to say, it did not belong to the son of Clelius to revenge an injury done to the Prince of Numidia. But, for my father, tho he may be convinc'd, you did not wound my brother, he will not restore you to the place you held in his heart, as long as the King of Hetruria shall be Tarquin's Protector, and Rome's enemy. Not but that he speaks

things which seem to have some contrariety; for if you should desert the party of the King your father, and come to side with Rome, he would think the acti∣on unworthy of you; and however, when you do all that you ought, he will account you unworthy of me; and to this effect, he speaks to me as often as occasion is presented. But what then must I do (answered A∣ronces) can I not be the Son of the King of Hetruria? Does it depend on me to cause him to take which side pleases me; Can I be suspected to love Tarquin, to hate so many illustrious Friends as I have at Rome, and not to prefer you above all things? Is it in my power to reverse the Laws and Reason, and to cause Vertue to permit me to bear Arms against the King my Father, and not to bear them against a Ri∣val so couragious and redoubtable as Horatius. I be∣seech you, Madam, (continu'd he) consider well the state of my fortune, as I am going to represent it to you, and then pronounce absolutely upon it. I know you have a great mind, a heart very noble, and a soul extreamly generous; and I will also believe that you love me as much as you can love, tho in a degree infinitely below that in which I love you; therefore I engage my self confidently to do what ever you shall appoint me. But, I beseech you, have some consi∣deration of my glory, as I should have of yours; and if you can find no means to reconcile my love and my honour, and to make me be both innocent and happy, I conjure you command me to die; for death shall be more sweet to me, than the cruel adventure of losing you, or committing a dishonourable acti∣on would be. Alas! my Lord, (reply'd Clelia) what do you desire of an unfortunate person? Would you have her counsel you against her own interests? By no means (answered Aronces) for I have none separated from yours; but I desire you would tell me positively what you would have me to do; and especially (added he) do not treat me as the Son of the King of Hetruria; remember the un∣known Aronces, and believe you can do nothing more disobliging to me, than to speak as you did but now. I desire your pardon for it (said she to him) but since you will have me tell you what I think, first tell me how you came hither; for I believ'd you full a prisoner. Aronces then obeying Clelia, told her in few words, all that had befallen him since he last saw her, tho she knew a good part of it before, He told her likewise of the visit he had receiv'd from the Queen his Mother, and the Princess of the Leontines, and of the proposition the Queen had made him to feign himself amorous of that Princess, that he might know whether Clelia, who had a scru∣pulous mind would not take it ill that he consented to it, tho it was onely to hinder the King of Ceres's Daughter from being propounded to him in mar∣riage. He added, that, seeing himself in so unhap∣py a condition, without being able to resolve what he should do, he excited so much pity, in him that guarded him in the Castle whereinto he was put, that tho he hazarded very much to satisfie him, he let him go forth one night upon his word, with an oath to return the third day, at the same hour. But how will your guards (said Clelia) not perceive that you are not in the Castle? By pretending that I am sick, (answer'd he) and that I am not wil∣ling to admit any person to see me. And the bet∣ter to colour the pretence, there is a Slave lies in my bed; and another, who is privy to the business, makes shew of waiting upon me, according to his ordinary custome; and besides he that commands those that guard me, is so much at the devotion of the Queen my Mother, who, he knows, em∣braces all my interests, that he hazards himself less in obliging me. But in brief, generous Clelia, the main importance is to consider, what I may, and what I ought to do. If I side with Rome, I am an un∣natural Son, I ruin my self in the opinions of all per∣sons of honour, and consequently in that of Clelius; I serve my Rival, I defend his life, and fight for his party; but yet I am near you, I see you daily, and dispute the possession of your heart against the me∣rits of my enemies. On the other side, if I serve the King my Father, I do that which vertue and honour obliges me to, and I see my self with my sword in hand against Horatius; but withal I serve Tarquin and Sextus, whom I hate in perfection, I am an enemy to Clelius and Octavius, my dearest Friends, Vertue, Rome, and to all that is dearest to me; and which is most cruel, I am absent from you, I abandon you in a manner to my Rival, and I have onely your constancy to put an obstacle to his hap∣piness. Thus, on which side soever I consider my condition, I am alwayes the most miserable of men. There might be a third course propounded to me; but as for that, Madam, I confess to you, I cannot embrace it, and that it is not possible for me to re∣solve to continue in prison, without taking one side; and poorly to expect the end of the War, inclos'd within four walls, without doing any thing but a∣gainst my self and you, whilst Horatius is covering himself with glory, and forcing Clelia to recom∣pence his services. This being so there are but two things to be examin'd; speak therefore, Madam, and pronounce absolutely what my destiny must be. If I were happy enough to see the King my Father, as equitable in his sentiments for you as the Queen my Mother, I should have other matters to propound to you; but altho a King's Son, I have no assur∣ed retreat to offer you any where, tho I where a∣ble to perswade you to follow my Fortune. And moreover you have so often told me, you can never render me happy, if Clelius consent not to it, that your vertue supports mine in this occasion. But af∣ter all, (added he, transported with the excess of his Love) Why do not we couragiously abandon our selves and the interests of Rome, and go to a∣nother end of the World, to seek a Sanctuary where we may live together? Our vertue would find us Protectors every where; and if your sentiments were like mine, we would be unhappy in no place, provided our Fortune were inseparable. I beseech you, (answer'd Clelia, discreetly) let us not a∣muse our selves to speak of a matter, whereof we ought not to think, and which we shall never do. Consider then the two proposals I have made you, (reply'd he) and then tell the unhappy Aronces what you please shall become of him. You know so well (answer'd Clelia) that I will never counsel you to do any thing you may be reproacht for, and which may be prejudicial to you, that you might spare me the grief of telling you my self, that you ought to follow that which reason directs you to; what that is, would be something difficult for me to tell you; and all that I can do, is to conjure you, that when you are in the War, you will remember my Father and my Brother may possibly be amongst the enemies you fight against, that you may avoid meeting them with your sword in your hand; for

if by ill Fate you should wound either of them two, you know I eannot without a crime retain any kindness longer for you. Think upon this my dear Aronces, and be generous enough to serve the cruel Tarquin and unjust Sextus with regret; but above all things (added she blushing) when you feign love to the Princess of Leontines, who I am told is very aimable, defend your heart against her charms, and remember whilst you are with her, there is an unfortunate person at Rome, who will treat Horatius ill for your sake, and who is like to be ill treated her self, because she will persist faith∣ful to you. Ah! Madam, (cry'd Aronces) can you think me capable of such a weakness as this? No, (answer'd Clelia) but I can fear it, tho I cannot be∣lieve it. That distinction is very nice, (reply'd he) for people use not to fear except that which they can believe, and no person ever much apprehended impossible things. Do not fear therefore, Ma∣dam, that I can ever cease to love you, for you shall be alwayes my first and last Mistress; and there is onely glory alone that has any share of my heart with you, tho I am perswaded I should love it much less than I do, If I lov'd not you. Live then with satisfaction in this respect, and suffer me to fear with more reason, that whilst I shall act by con∣straint as an enemy of Rome, the love of your Coun∣trey may destroy a love so just and innocent as mine in your heart, and that whilst I am fighting against Horatius, as a redoubtable Rival, he do not get the advantage of me in your affection. He will see you every day, you will hear nothing but vowes made against me, all will be dissembled that makes for my advantage, and you will hear no good spoken of the unhappy Aronces, but what you shall speak to your self in seeret. On the contrary, all the actions of the Romans shall be imbellish'd and extoll'd, and e∣specially those of my Rival; so that by degrees it may come to pass, that you may change your senti∣ments, and I shall be left to die with despair. No, no, my dear Aronces, (answered Clelia) do not fear, I will be ever guilty of any inconstancy towards you; or at least do not fear I can ever be capable of loving, after I have lov'd you. But that which afflicts me, is, that I cannot make vows for your party, but shall be enforc'd to make such as are contrary to it; and I doubt also whether strict vertue will permit me to make any for you in particular. However, I am resolv'd I will (added she without giving him leasure to interrupt her) and at the same time that I pray to the Gods Rome may gain the victory, I will beseech them to preserve you, and hinder you from hurting all the persons which ought to be dear to me; and thus accommodating my innocence and my affection the best I can, I shall no doubt lead the unhappiest life in the World. But there is remedy; for as I should not forsake the interest of my Father for your sake, so I will not oblige you to abandon those of yours for mine: Besides, as I told you, it would be no advantage to you with Clelius. Go then my dear Aronces; let us at least have no∣thing to reproach our selves for; perhaps our Pa∣tience will weary our bad Fortune, and oblige the Gods to render us happy. For when I reflect that it is possible for you to be discover'd, and that if the Consul Horatius knew you were here, you would be arrested the next moment, my mind is extreamly inquieted. The King of Hetruria would think that you caus'd your self to be arrested, my Father perhaps, would accuse me of having con∣sented to to it, and indeed you would not be very happy to be a prisoner, in a place where I should no more see you, than if you were in the enemies Camp, where you would be prejudiced in all re∣spects, where you would perhaps at last depend on your enemies, and whence you would not be re∣leas'd till the end of the War. Therefore 'tis bet∣ter for you to be in a place, where you may serve my Father, my Brother, and your Friends, if they happen to become Prisoners to your side, and from whence perhaps I may also somtimes receive tidings from you. You have then absolutely dotermin'd what my destiny must be (reply'd Aronces). I have not, (answered Clelia) but being I can never desire any thing that is unjust, I submit my will to reason, and content my self to beseech you to love me for e∣ver, and to believe, that I shall be so faithful to you, that in case you should prove inconstant, I should ne∣ver love any person after. Be confident, Madam (re∣ply'd Aronces), you shall never have occasion to testi∣fie that kind of fidelity: but if you do not promise me (added he) to be as fully assur'd of my constancy as I will be of yours, I think, I shall not be able to re∣turn; but without considering the particulars of my destiny, I will go find out Clelius. And withal (added he) I will undeceive him of the opinion he has of my wounding Octavius. It shall suffice (answer'd Clelia) that the Prince Artemidorus will take care to justifie you without your intermedling in it your self. In the mean time (added she) I think it fit to confide in Herminius, whose probity can never be suspected by those to whom he is known. 'Tis my intention, (reply'd Aronces): but before I see him, permit me, Madam, to bid you adieu here apart, since my hard Fate will not suffer me to continue with you; for the sentiments of an amorous heart ought not to be divided.

Tell me then, Madam, that you will love me, that you will pity me, and that as soon as you can I shall be happy: and to assure you yet more of my fidelity, and take away all cause of doubting of it, know, that as often as you please, I will come, and give you an account of my actions, though I be put to enter Rome without a disguise; that as of∣ten as you please you shall make my arms fall out of my hands; and in a word, that you shall be always absolute Mistress of my destiny. But permit me also to hope that I shall have a share in all your thoughts, and that you can never be happy, till you have ren∣der'd me so. I promise you, (answer'd this fair per∣son): but alas! (added she sighing) I fear we shall be alwayes miserable, at least, I know I am not able to foresee by what means we shall ever become other∣wise. Tarquin may die, (reply'd Aronces), the inte∣rests of the King my Father may change, I may per∣haps bend his mind, peace may be concluded, Clelius may cease to be unjust, and Horatius may be con∣strain'd to relinquish that which does not belong to him: therefore it is to he hop'd, that at length, by wayes which are unknown to us, Heaven will ren∣der us happy. 'Tis requisite indeed (said Clelia) to take up a hope to our selves, tho upon ill grounds, to avoid despair: but to speak sincerely, Fear is the Mi∣stress in my heart. Yet I will hide part of it, (conti∣nu'd she) and content my self to conjure you to pre∣serve your self for my sake. And now suffer me to call Valeria, Artimedorus, and Herminius, that you may depart; for tho the sight of you causes all the

sweetness of my life, yet I shall have no quiet, till I know you are return'd into your prison, where at least your life is in safety. Alas! I beseech you, Ma∣dam, (answer'd Aronces) that I may speak onely three or four words more to you, Speak them, (re∣ply'd she) but speedily; for when once one has but three or four words to speak, 'tis almost as good to be silent. Alas! Madam (cry'd he) you know not what Love is, if you account three or four words no∣thing, since 'tis true, one favourable word affords a thousand and a thousand pleasures to remember it. Therefore give me some to keep in my memory, and to comfort me during an absence whose continuance is uncertain. Tell me then too, discreet person as you are, whether you love me? Alas! (answer'd Clelia) can you doubt of what I think, and can it be necessary to tell you that which has been prov'd to you by a thou∣sand testimonies of dearness? If it be not absolutely necessary, (reply'd he, looking upon her with much love) yet it is perfectly delightful: tell me then po∣sitively that you love me, and that you will love me eternally, to the end I may have something to supply me with comfort in my greatest misfortunes. I tell you all that can comfort you (answered Clelia): but after this ask no more of me, for I have nothing but tears to give you. Clelia had no sooner ended these words, but she made a sign to Valeria, that she should oblige Artemidorus and Herminius to approach to∣wards them; and accordingly having fastned the door of this little Garden, they drew altogether. Then Aronces made a thousand caresses to Herminius; for as for Artemidorus he had seen him the evening before, having first discover'd and intrusted himself to him. Yet the discourse of these persons was not long, be∣cause Clelia was in such fear, least Aronces should be discover'd, that she was not satisfi'd till he was with∣drawn into the Gardener's house, where he had pas∣sed the preceding night. Nevertheless Aronces first told Artemidorus and Herminius the reasons which oblig'd him to serve the King his Father against Rome, he intreated them to disabuse Clelius of that opinion, that it was he that had wounded Octavius, he conjur'd them to serve him with their mediation to him, to speak alwayes in his favour to Clelia, and to pity him, for being of a side, on which his heart was not, and not to love him less for it. It is so ordi∣nary (answer'd Herminius) to see brave persons in∣gag'd to make war for unjust causes, that there is no intelligent person, but instead of blaming, will ad∣mire that which you do; and I am confident Clelius will esteem you more for continuing fixt to the in∣terest of the King your Father, than it the love you bear to Clelia oblig'd you to come and side with Rome. For after you alone have caus'd us to gain the Battle, which put us in power to defend our selves, it is easie to know that if honour permitted you, you would do that again for Rome which you have done against its enemies. Be therefore assur'd, that for my part, I shall promote your interests vi∣gorously, and that it shall be no fault of mine, if ju∣stice be not rendred to your Vertue. After this, these two illustrious Friends parted, but Artemido∣rus continu'd with Aronces, till the beginning of night, when he was to go away. Yet this generous Lover took his leave a second time of Clelia, with more dearness and tenderness than before. Hermi∣nius would willingly have staid with Aronces, as well as Artemidorus; but it was fear'd, that might cause it to be suspected, that there was some person hidden in the Garden; wherefore he went away with Cle∣lia and Valeria, to rejoyn with Cesonia and Plotinae, whom they beheld going out at the end of a walk, with an old man whom they did not know: who likewise took leave of them in that place, and went into the little Garden where Aronces and Artemidorus were. Well (said Herminius to Cesonia and Plotina) may I know your secret as well as I do that of Cle∣lia and Valeria's. No question but you shall know it, (answer'd Plotina) for I have so great need of the generous Sevelia, that without her I should scarce know what to do with the secret which has been re∣veal'd to me. In the mean time (added she) since there is no person here in whom I may confide, I shall not scruple to say, that this secret is so impor∣tant to me, that it has inform'd me I am not what I alwayes took my self to be; for I believ'd I was born at Ardea, and I was not; I thought I was the Daugh∣ter of a man, who was only Friend to my late Mother, and I am quite another Person than what I ima∣gin'd. Clelia hearing Plotina speak thus, could not contain, notwithstanding the other imployment of of her thoughts, from asking her who she was. Alas! my dear Clelia, (answer'd she) perhaps you will know but too soon; however, I would tell you at this instant, but having been made to promise not to speak of it yet, I must be contented to tell you, that I am that, which I should never have believ'd I could be; and I conjure you to promise me, that when you know who I am, you will not love me for it less. I assure you (reply'd Clelia) that the friendship I have for you being founded upon your merit, tho your birth should be less noble than I have believ'd it, I would not change the sentiment, I have for you. That which you say is very gene∣rous (said Cesonia) but 'tis not for that considerati∣on Plotina fears you would love her less; for her birth is nobler than she believ'd, but however, I am confident she will not tell it you presently; for he that can unfold this riddle, is oblig'd to return this night to a prison whence he came forth, to ex∣pect till a great Princess deliver him from it; and af∣ter that he will come back to Rome, to inform you really who Plotina is. Nevertheless (added Cesonia, speaking to Clelia) continue to love her dearly; for tho she sayes, she fears you should love her less, yet I must assure you that, on the contrary, you will think your self oblig'd to love her more. After this these Ladies went into their Chariot, and Herminius re∣turn'd on horseback. On the other side, night was no sooner come, but Aronces, and that old man, who so long entertain'd Cesonia and Plotina, return'd to the prison from whence they came, for this man came along with Aronces to Rome. As for Clelia be∣ing she look'd upon all secrecy as criminal, she told Sulspicia she had seen Aronces, and she told Octavius likewise, to the end to satisfie him that Aronces could not have been the Person that wounded him, and this prudent Lady so faithfully related to them all the generous sentiments of that iliustrious Prince, that they admir'd his vertue, and became confirm'd in the resolution to serve him still with greater ardour. To which purpose they oblig'd Artemidorus to tell Clelius he had understood at Clusium, that when Aronces was arrested by Tar∣quin, his sword was taken way from him, so to evince him that Octavius receiv'd not his wound from his hand; adding that he wondred the truth was not conjectur'd, it being a general order to

disarm all such as are put into prison: Whereby continued Artemidorus, it is easie for you to judge, that that sword you sometimes gave to Aronces, and which was drawn out of Octavius's body after the battle, was not in Aronces's hands when he was wounded by it; for when a prisoner escapes out of prison, it is not possible for him, to regain the sword which was taken from him. Besides that, I have been assur'd Tarquin gave that which was yours to one of his Officers. Tho Aronces were innocent of the wounding Octavius (interrupted Clelius) it should not much advantage him in my favour; for since he is the Son of Porsenna, who is Tarquin's Protector, and consequently Rome's enemy, there needs no more to make me hate him. Yet you do not hate Telanus and Mamilius (answer'd Artemidorus) tho they be Veien∣tines, and the State of Veii a declared enemy to that of Rome. Mamilius and Telanus (reply'd Clelius) are two particular persons, who in their hearts do not approve the actions of those that govern their City. But Aronces is an illustrious unfortunate person (an∣swer'd Artemidorus) who resents with much regret, Porsenna's undertaking the protection of Tarquin. Whether that be so or no (reply'd Clelius), all that I can answer is, that I consider nothing more than the interest of my Country, that there is nothing I do not think my self oblig'd to sacrifice for it, and that rather then be ingrateful to it, I had rather be so to Aronces. Tho indeed having done as much for him, as he has for me, I do not look upon my self as liable to an accusation of ingratitude, tho I should hate him as much as I have lov'd him. Ar∣temidorus was desirous to pross him further, but per∣ceiving no effect of his mediation, but a further exasperation of his disgust, he broke off his dis∣course. Two daies after Publicola brought back the Army, for the reasons before mention'd; but tho the pretence of his return was an intention to spare the blood of the people, to avoid giving bat∣tle again, and to cause the enemies Army to perish before their Wals, if they should dare to march a∣gainst them, yet his return caus'd a great commoti∣on amongst the people. For the solicitousness of Publicola and the second Consul, in fortifying all the out-places of Rome, in redoubling the City guard, and commanding all the Corn which was about in the Country, to be brought in thither, and all the the moveables of private persons, who had houses in the Country, the people well understood, that they who were acquainted with the secrecy of affairs, certainly foresaw, that Rome would ere long be sur∣rounded with a leagure. Whereupon every one ta∣king order for his particular subsistance, it was not possible for this to be done without some trouble and confusion. All the Streets of this spatious City were seen cover'd with chariots, horses, and with terrifi'd and afflicted people. Some were driving flocks, others removing houshold-stuff, some were loaden with corn and fruits, whilst others not solieitous of their goods, only lead their Wives and children into a place of safety. There were some that gave out they had seen the forces appear, tho it was not true; others lying after them, and encreasing their untruth, related sto∣ries of the disorders those forces had committed. They nam'd the Villages which they had burn'd, and told so many circumstances of violences committed by them, that they caus'd affrightment in all that heard them. The people thronging into the City, the Gates of it were not sufficient to receive all those conveniently, who endeavour'd to retire into it; so that there was a great tumult in the waies, gates, and streets; all the Tradesmen desisted from their works, and only beheld all these several passages with ex∣tream sadness. There was also so great a dispositi∣on in them to murmur, that there was no person who did not complain. The poor said they only should suffer during the siege, and the rich were ve∣ry forward to ingage in the war, because they knew well, that they should not undergo the inconveni∣ences of it. They who inclin'd to Monarchy, said it was very incommodious to have so many Masters; Others, that all changes never brought any thing but mischief along with them; some others zealous for li∣berty quarrelled with these, and maintain'd it was better to devour one another for hunger, and set fire to their City, than ever to yield to Tarquin. Some said it was not the best course to expect to be besieg'd, but rather to draw all the Romans out, and go and meet the enemy; others, that they would defend their wals, their wives, their children, their hou∣shold-gods: but did not think fit to go and give bat∣tle: and the wifer and more understanding sort of people, endeavouring to reprove the multitude for their precipitious fear, fell into fury themselves, be∣cause they could not satisfie the people. Upon which Publicola having assembled the Senate, it was resolv∣ed, the only way to bring the people into their du∣ty was to flatter them. To which purpose several Ordinances favourable to the Commonalty were constituted; for they were dispensed with from con∣tributing to the charge of the war; a reasonable rate was set upon such things as were necessary for subsistance; the publick magazines were open'd; they were assur'd of all things necessary, as abun∣dantly as the rich; it was given out by persons ap∣pointed to that purpose, that the enemies were not so strong, as was believ'd; shew was made of not fearing them; and the chief of the Senate made feasts out of policy, to intimate to the people, that they did not fear the wanting of any thing. So that as it is sometimes no less easie to appease a multi∣tude than to move them, within two dayes all the Tradesmen betook themselves to their callings as before; all the people that came out of the circum∣jacent villages were dispos'd of in lodgings; and the false news changing the appearance of things, the same people who lately publisht other tidings so fa∣tal and disadvantageous to Rome, now related a hun∣dred contrary to Tarquin and Porsenna, which tho they had no probability in them very often, yet there did not want some to believe them. In the mean time all these divers rumors hindred Clidamira and Berelisa, from finishing their journey to Praeneste, con∣ceiving it better to remain still at Rome, tho it were besieg'd, than to put themselves upon the way, at a time wherein there was yet no establisht per∣mission, and every one was taken for an enemy; besides that Artemidorus being at Rome, they had no great business any where else. As for Anacreon he thought himself ••o well there, that he could not resolve to depart from thence so soon. Themistus believing he could not pass the time of his exile more nobly than in beholding so important an acti∣on as this, which fortune presented to him, resolv'd to continue there to that end; Meregines and his o∣ther friend did the same; Artemidorus and Zenocra∣tes were not solicitous to go away, for several rea∣sons; and Amilcar was then so strongly engaged to

Rome, that he did not think he should ever leave it. Amongst these illustrious persons was still enjoy'd part of the pleasures of peace, notwithstanding all the preparations for war. Yet the pretences for walking entertainments, were something relating to military affairs; for whereas formerly the Ladies were wont to make a walk to hear musick, they now went to behold the forces muster'd in the field of Mars, or see the pioneers making fortifications in several places of the City. Amidst all these distur∣bances, Love did not cease to exercise his dominion. Nevertheless, Spurius perceiv'd his affection did not so much proceed from the dearness he had for Valeria, as the hatred he bore to Herminius, Aemili∣us, and Mutius, who understanding himself not so dextrous as his Rivals, in all those little diligences which Love inspires people with, whose genius is na∣turally sprightly, took up a thought to surpas's them all in greatness of courage, and to exployt such extroardinary actions during the War, that Publico∣la should not dare to refuse Valeria to him, and his Rivals have no longer the boldness to pretend to her to his prejudice. As for Horatius, he had then more hope than ever before; Aronces was lost in Clelius's favour, himself was very powerful in Rome, his Rival was in the Party of the Enemies, and he pretended his services to the Republick should be so considerable, as that nothing could reasonably be refused at the end of the War. Octavius, as soon as he began to go abroad, went to visit Hermilia; and finding her still possess'd with a sadness which something corresponded with his present humour, he was pleas'd no where so much as in her com∣pany. At this time it was known, that the Prince of Messene, instead of going to Rome, as it was believ'd, went and sided with the enemies party, to be opposite to Themistus, who thereby found himself more engaged, to pass all the time of his exile at Rome, and serve that State during the War. As for Clelia, though the posture of her Fortune was very unhappy, yet she resented much consolation in having seen Aronces, and perceiv'd in his eyes, she had all the reason in the World to hope he would be constant, and that all the ob∣stacles ill fortune should obstruct their happiness with, would not change his sentiment. Plotina, after what she had understood from that old man who came with Artemidorus, was affected with a secret joy, which would have been perfectly sweet, if it had not been allay'd with the impatience she had, because she could not discover it. But tho this sometimes gave her occasion to muse, she was not much the more melancholy, but took all oppor∣tunities to delight her self. Amilcar being one day in her chamber, at the same time with Valeria, Be∣relisa, Clidamira, and Cesonia, there was occasion offer'd her to exercise her pleasant humour; for as it chanc'd Acrisius who talk'd too much, Sicinius who was too silent, and Damon who was of the Sect of Pythagoras, coming thither, Amilcar, and she, diverted themselves much to the disadvantage of these three Rivals, and especially of the last. While this company was speaking of several indifferent things, Anacreon and Herminius enter'd and said, they had newly learn'd some tidings which much af∣fected them with compassion. Valeria demanded what they imported? whereupon, Herminius addres∣sing to her, I understand (said he) the unfortunate Calianthus, who, as you know, desir'd permission to build a Tomb for his two Rivals, who were slain in the last Battle, is himself slain by a party of the enemies, in defending the Tomb which he caus'd to be built. So that of four Lovers, who contested together, there is none living but Melicrates. Since none could be happy but he, (answer'd Acrisius) it is as good that they are dead; for what is life good for, when that cannot be injoy'd which only is ca∣pable to render it delightful? Acrisius would have proceeded farther, if Plotina had suffered him to speak, but the better to silence him, she began to la∣ment Calianthus, with much exaggeration; the other Ladies pitied him likewise, and Anacreon himself, as great a friend of joy as he was, testified his com∣miseration of his Fate. For my part (said Da∣mon then, who alwayes spoke according to the sen∣timents of Pythagoras) my soul is not so sensible of compassion towards those who dye, as those who suffer any pain; for according to my apprehensi∣ons, such as dye, only change their Country and con∣dition, but do not cease to be, so that the conti∣nual change which all souls undergo, makes their sorrow unjust who afflict themselves so much for the death of those we know, if they be not abso∣lutely necessary to our felicity. For my part, (said Plotina) I know not how you understand it; but if I were of your opinion, I should not be much com∣forted in dying, tho I should know my Soul were to pass into the body of the most jolly Turtle in the World; and besides, were what you say true, peo∣ple would have some remembrance of things they had known before. But I am well assur'd I remem∣ber nothing; and I believe too with sufficient cer∣tainty, that when I shall be dead, I shall no longer remember any thing which I speak at present. Your education (answer'd Damon) having been a∣mongst such persons who were not instructed by the learned in the Doctrine of Pythagoras, it is no great wonder if you do not comprehend what I say. How∣ever, 'tis certain, there is nothing more consenta∣neous to reason than the opinion of that Philosopher in this point. For whereas the gods, who are Ma∣sters of the World, change nothing in their work∣manship, but we see alwaies the same Seas, the same Rivers, the same Mountains, that they have fram'd a certain number of Stars, which neither increases nor diminishes; it is easie to imagine that they have also created a certain number of Souls, which con∣tinually pass from one body to another, according to their pleasure. So that many times we bewail people, who are in a condition more happy than that which they have forsaken. But what serves this present happiness for, (said Plotina) since I re∣member a past felicity no longer, and I have reason to say, The things we remember no longer, are no longer ours. But; Madam, (replyed he, shaking his head a little) it is not be imagin'd, there is none in the World remembers what has been formerly; for I have heard several Disciples of Pythagoras af∣firm, there are some, who remember the actions of a precedent life perfectly. But do you remember (said Acrisius) what you have been? I am not so as vain to profess it, (answer'd Damon gravely;) for this seldome happens, but to persons who are of so exquisite a temper, as that all the faculties of their Souls are in their utmost perfection, by reason that the Bodies which they animate, are so well dis∣pos'd, that nothing impedes or disturbs their ima∣gination, memory, or judgement. I must then ask all

that are present (said Plotina) if they remember any thing. For my part (said Cesonia) I am very un∣likely to remember what I was before my being what I am; for I scarce remember what I did ye∣sterday. And I (said Anacreon) am so taken up with the present, that I cannot reflect upon what is past. To speak my thoughts (said Valeria), the future takes up my mind more than any thing else, so that 'tis no wonder if I remember nothing. I remember ma∣ny past things (said Berelisa), but they are only such as I have seen with my own eies. I am much like you in that (answered Clidamira), for I know ma∣ny things which I shall not forget during my life, but they are not of the nature of those Damon speaks of. I confess (said Sicinius then smiling) I so little love to speak of that which befals me, that tho I should remember what I have been, before I became what I am, I think I should not declare it. For my part (said Acrisius) if I remembered any thing I should willingly tell it. I know not (said Herminius) whe∣ther it be the fault of my constitution, or of this Doctrine, but I remember nothing at all. Whilst the Company was discoursing thus, Amilcar ap∣pear'd pensive and musing, and spoke not at all; upon which Plotina, not doubting but he was con∣triving some subtilty, asked him, whether he would not declare if he remember'd what he had been before his last coming into the World. Amil∣car, then returning from his feigned musing, an∣swered ambiguously, and forc'd Plotina to command him to speak what he really thought. Sincerely (said he to her) you are a cruel person, to constrain me to be of the same opinion with one of my Rivals. How? (interrupted Plotina hastily, making shew of being astonisht) is it possible an African should be of the Sect of Pythagoras? 'Tis to no purpose to deny it, (answer'd he, with a tone something serious): I am not only charm'd with his Doctrine, but convinc't of it too by my own experience; and if I were at Metopontium or at Crotona, I should speak more freely of these matters than at Rome, where this opinion is not follow'd, though it be not ge∣nerally condemned. At least, I know the memo∣ry of Pythagoras is in veneration here, and it is not unknown, that he was the wisest Philosopher that ever more that name, the most gentle and humane. For, to give the more weight to this discourse, (added he) it is sufficiently apparent, that he was truely perswaded of the transmigration of Souls out of some bodies into others; since this, no doubt, was the cause of forbidding the use of any sort of living Creatures for food. You have made a great secret of your opinion (reply'd Plotina, who un∣derstood he derided Damon) but to punish you for your dissimulation, tell us, in brief, whether you, who have so handsome a wit, so quick a fancy, so faithful a memory, and a constitution so perfect, have yet any remembrance of what you were, be∣fore you came to be Amilcar. 'Tis cortain (said Damon then) that truth constrains me to say, I ne∣ven knew any man so fit as he, to remember what he was before his last birth: for he is of that hap∣py temper wherein the Soul is so dis-intangled from the combersomeness of the Senses, that she may seem to be able to unloosen her self from them, and act without them, whensoever she pleases. I beseech you my dear Rival, (answer'd Amilcar with seem∣ing anger) let us not mock one another in so good Company, by publishing things which they will not believe. I engage my self to make you be be∣liev'd by above half those that are present, (said Plotina pleasantly): therefore tell us whether you re∣member you were any thing, before you were the same Person which I see you. In the name of the gods (said Damon than speaking to Amilcar) if it has pleas'd destiny to make your birth so happy, as that you are one of the number of those, who have the preheminence to know what they have formerly been, speak it confidently, in the averment of a truth of highest importance, which perhaps you may convince some persons of, who may after∣wards propagate it to all the most illustrious in Rome, Herminius observing, Damon's zeal for Pythagoras's Doctrine, made him liable to be abus'd, for the di∣vertisement of the Company entreated Amilcar to declare, as the rest, all that his memory inform'd him of. Valeria did the like; Berelisa, Clidamira, and Cesonia added their requests; Acrisius importun'd him to it; Acreon desir'd him to do it, and Sicinius made a consenting sign to him, to signifie that his desires were the same with those of all the Company; after which Plotina commanding him to speak, he did so in this manner; I am going to obey you, Madam, (said he to her) but I beseech your favour, not to reveal that which I shall tell you, and withal oblige those who are present to keep fidelity to me; for 'tis no great pleasure to be shewn in the Streets for a man, to whom extraordinary things has happen∣ed. Amilcar seem'd so serious in these worde, that Plotina was almost ready to believe that he spoke in earnest. But at length all the Company hiving promis'd not to promulgate what he should tell them, he studi'd for some time and, seeming wholly recollected in him self, spoke in these words, addres∣sing his words to Plotina. When you shall have heard what I have to tell you, (said he) you will less won∣der at the boldness I have in loving you; for I have not alwaies been a Wit. 'Tis true my Soul has expe∣rimented a great varietie of different Fortunes, and this very Spirit, which animates me, has pass'd through several bodies of no mutual resemblance. Moreover (added he, with a grave and imperious as∣pect) it must not be imagin'd that I speak without knowing what induces me to it; for tho I may seem a person fitter to compose a jovial Sonnet, than to understand the whole doctrine of Pythagoras to the bottome, yet if I embrac'd it, I would clearly give you to understand the most obscure matters, and so unfold to you the necessity that there be eternally a prefixt number of Souls in the whole Universe, ani∣mating all the Bodies in it, that afterwards there would be no place left to doubt of all the doctrine of Pythagoras. For it being constantly true, (conti∣nu'd he, after having made all the appearances of one that has a good opinion of that which he speaks, and who nevertheless studies a little what he desires to express) that the principles of things consist in numbers, that proportion and Symetry are found every where, and that the harmony which results from this exactness, is, that which maintains the World, it is easie to understand, that the number of Souls is not unequal. The order of the Universe is alwaies equal; there is neither more nor less master in one age than in another; a Tree puts forth leaves in the Spring, those leaves fals at Autum, and the Tree renders back to the Earth all it received from it, and if it be burnt, the ashes return to the same place with the leaves. People delight to make Wa∣ter-courses

to divide Rivers, and cause Fountains to spurt forth; yet there is not one drop of water less in all the Universe, in which is made a continual trans∣mutation of all bodies. Since therefore matter is al∣waies equal, why should any imagine Souls not to be so too? The Stars are alwaies in the same number, as Damon hath well observ'd; we see but one Moon and one Sun; and, were it not incongruous to make shew of learning before Ladies, I should swear to you by the number of Four, which is the greatest oath of Pythagoras's Disciples, you would soon believe all that I do. For my part (said Plotina) I am already almost wholly dispos'd to believe you; but being I alwaies love Examples more than Reasons, and the principles of things and numbers are otherwise be∣yond my understanding, I intreat you to imagine I believe there is a certain number of Souls which pass successefully into the Bodies of Men and Beasts; for I am ready to die with desire, to know what beast or Heroe you have been. Ah! Madam, (cry'd Da∣mon, who heartily wisht Amilcar had convinc'd her of his opinion) persons that believe so easily, do as good as not believe at all. Sincerely (answer'd she) I am the most dispos'd to hear Amilcar, that pos∣sible can be. Permit me then to speak (reply'd he); for it is not more true that the number of Ten is the most perfect of all numbers, according to the doctrine of Pythagoras, than it is true that I die with desire to tell you all I remember I have been. Speak then (said Plotina) and do not fear being in∣terrupted, unless it be to ask you some particulari∣ties, which I shall be desirous to know. Know then (answer'd he, with a very serious tone) that the most ancient thing I can call to remembrance, is my having been a great Priest in Aegypt, a long time be∣fore the first of the Pyramids which are seen there, was built. But this I remember so confusedly, that there remains nothing of it in my mind, but the knowledge of Hieroglyphicks, which, no doubt, I understand still sufficiently well, therefore I shall not detain you in speaking of it, having other things of more curiosity and divertisement to tell you. Af∣ter I dy'd in a Temple, my soul pass'd into the bo∣dy of a young Prince, of a handsome, comely, and agreeable personage. But the strangest thing is, (continu'd he very seriously) that I cannot remem∣ber, what ever endeavour I make, in what Country I liv'd; I only know, that I liv'd in a Court of great splendor, that I had an amorous inclination, that I lov'd all pleasures of Converse, and could not in∣dure solitude for so much as a quarter of an hour. I had also so great an inclination to all kind of Socie∣ty, that I remember I promis'd above half a score of young Virgins to marry them, and I know not whether or no I did not marry two or three of them. Moreover I remember very well I loved flattery, and yet was not over-liberal in rewarding flatterers; that I easily enough forgot services that were done me, that I believ'd with an equal faci∣lity all the good that was spoken of me, and all the evil, that was told me of others, and was no very commendable friend. As for War I know not whe∣ther I lov'd it or no, but I know I di'd at no great age, and that never having had leisure to think of death, nor made any reflection upon it to com∣pose my mind resolutely against it, I found my self much perplex'd when I saw it at hand; and to say truth, entertain'd it after a very unkind manner. But afterwards I was strangely astonisht, after having been in so good company, to find my self a Phoenix in Arabia, and the onely one of my kind; for without doubt, you know, Madam, there is but one Phoenix in the World. Amilcar spoke this so seriously, that none of the company had the confidence to dare to laugh; and they constrain'd themselves the more willingly, to further the mock∣ery of Damon. How (said Plotina then to him) were you a Phoenix? Yes, Madam, (answer'd he) and if I were a considerable wit, I would maintain that I am one again at present; and that after hav∣ing been a Phoenix in Arabia, I am again the Phoenix of Lovers in Rome; but because I am in a serious discourse this day, I content my self to assure you that I was really a Phoenix, and that never any thing troubled me more. I was indeed very come∣ly, and, when I beheld my self sometimes in a River, I took sufficient pleasure in the handsomness of my shape; but being I was destitute of love, and could not be otherwise, my beauty was sufficiently unpro∣fitable to me. If I should desire your picture (said Plotina) now you are Amilcar, I think it would not be seemly; but I conceive there is no great danger in intreating you to give me your pourtraiture as a Phoenix. Since you command me (answer'd A∣milcar) I will tell you that the Phoenix is as big as an Eagle, that the Feathers of his body and wings are half carnation, and half of the colour of gold; that his tail is of the most excellent blew that ever was seen, and his neck like a Rainbow, that he has a thick and large tuft upon his head of lively and well mingled colours, peircing eies, and feet resem∣bling sprayes of Coral. This is, Madam, the shape of a Phoenix, and such was I at that time: howe∣ver I was extreamly melancholy, tho I thought my self very handsome, and was in a delightful coun∣try; for there is a certain place in Arabia the Happy, where all Trees, Flowers and Herbs, have an odori∣ferous smell, where Incense is found in abundance, and where I percht my self when I pleas'd upon the Cinamon Trees. Thus a thousand agreeable odours persuming the air, and a thousand handsome objects offering themselves to my eies from all parts, it may be thought I could not be otherwise than happy. But to speak truth, it being alwaies impossible to be so without love, I was sufficiently miserable. For e∣very year in the Spring, I with envy beheld Night∣ingales singing and making love. It was in vain for me to seek for any company; I found my self al∣waies alone; other birds went together sometimes by troops, whilst I remain'd alone with my beauty in an inforc'd solitude, which was insupportable to me. But were you not happy (said Plotina) in not be∣ing subject either to love or jealousie, in being free from the trouble of building a nest like other birds, in being alwaies the goodliest bird in the World, and consequently not envious of others? Alas! Ma∣dam, (answer'd he) I accounted it better to be envi∣ous than discontented, as the Phoenix is. Where∣fore ever since (added he) I have alwaies had very great compassion of those fair women, whom jealous husbands leave in deserts in the Country, where they see nothing they can love, and where solitude is not voluntary to them; for there is nothing so ungrate∣ful, as to be constrain'd to be alone, when one de∣sires to be in company. And I can assure you, that when I had liv'd 160 years, which is the ordinary life of a Phoenix, I was infinitely joyful that I was oblig'd to build my funeral pile, which I did with

all possible expedition, with Incense, cinnamon, and other aromatical woods, in the season the Sun is hottest. After which, putting my self upon it after a faint manner, I fell asleep through tedious∣ness of my long sollitude. During my sleep, I expir'd with weakness, the Sun fir'd the pile which I had made, and reducd me into ashes, to leave some∣thing, out of which my successor might arise. More∣over, I remember very distinctly, that my last thoughts, while a Phoenix, were extremely melan∣choly, for having spent so long a life without lov∣ing any thing; for when I call'd to mind, that I had a hundred and sixty Springs, seen all the birds of my lovely desart making love to one another, I was infinitely discontented; and therefore (con∣tinu'd he) if there be any in the company, who, to their unhappiness, have made a resolution not to love any thing, let them hasten to change it; for there is nothing more tormenting at the hour of death than the affliction of having not been able to love or be belov'd. I assure you (said Valeria) I believe it is very troublesome too, to call to mind an unsuccessful or impertinent love. However it be (said Damon, who was unwilling Amilcar should be interrupted) suffer the relation to be finisht, which has been so delightfully begun; for though Amilcar alwaies mingles some raillery in what he speaks, yet credit ought to be given to his words, since all the compa∣ny knowes 'tis his custome never to speak altogether seriously of the most serious things. You have reason (answer'd Plotina) therefore I desire Amil∣car to continue his relation. After I had ceas'd being a Phoenix (said Amilcar) I chang'd my for∣tune and shape very much; for I became one of the most ugly men in the World, but in requiral one of the most valiant; for I lov'd nothing so much as war, which I follow'd continually; not but that my heart was in some sort sensible of love, though it was a kind of souldier-like Love, which does not cause much sighing, but has something of freedome and jollity in it, but seldome any great matter of courtship; and therefore I took more pleasure in re∣lating a handsome field wherein I had fought, a siege I had been present at, or a particular combate of my own, than in entertaining my self with the favours of my mistress. But perhaps (interrupted Plotina smiling) it was because you had not any great matter to say upon that subject; at least I know if any lov'd me after the military manner you have represented to me, it should be easie to reckon the favours I would do him. All women (answer'd Herminius) are not of your humor; for, some fancy those reso∣lute gallants with fierce countenances, who speak with boldness, and have kill'd men, more than po∣lite and civiler persons, who comport themselves with respect and tenderness. No doubt, Herminius has reason (replyed Amilcar) for I was not very ill treated, and my stoutness caus'd me to obtain as many favours, as my wit and courtship. 'Tis true, I did not care over much for them; and I remember one thing which makes good what I say: One day I lost a picture which I had of my mistress, as I was fighting with a man, who had set upon me at an ad∣vantage, and I was much more joyful for having taken his sword from him, than troubled for having lost the picture. Indeed when a fancy takes a man to pass for one of greater courage than others, I assure you he is sufficiently employ'd; for he is possess'd with envy, jealousie, and ambition all at a time; danger is sought with eagerness (though to speak sincerely, 'tis never delightful;) he alwayes desires to go be∣yond the rest, and is altogether uncapable of quiet. Then, 'tis sufficiently troublesome to be sometimes wounded, and sometimes a prisoner; for the Kings and Princes, for whose service you hazard or lose your lives, take little care of you. However, since 'tis the mode, it ought to be follow'd and I fol∣low'd it so well, that I was but twenty nine years old when I was slain. 'Tis true, I had serv'd in fourteen companies with sufficient honour to be con∣tent with life, were it not that it is alwaies suffici∣ently difficult to resolve to die. But afterwards (ad∣ded he, not giving leisure to any to interrupt him) my adventure was strange enough; for after having shewn much bravery, the gods to punish me for be∣ing guilty of too much vanity in that respect, were pleas'd the same soul which in another body had been so stout and hardy, should animate that of one of the most pusillanimous men in the world. At first I was not very sorry for it; for I confess to you, I was a little weary with the tumultuous life which I had led, and those former impressions not being yet wholly blotted out, I imagined that choosing a kind of calm life I might spend my daies with sufficient sweetness. But, alas! I was deceiv'd, for as soon as it was perceiv'd I was one of no courage, I was expos'd to a hundred thousand troublesome occasi∣ons, and I assure you the people of the world who suffer most, are they who have the unhappiness to be cowards. For I dare maintain, it is a thousand times more pain to be void of valour, than to be too couragious; for a man who is valiant resolves upon death without fear at the beginning of the fight; whereas a poor wretch who is not, fears it in places where it is not to be met with. For my part, whilst I was a coward, I fear'd both my friends and my enemies; when I was forced to go to the war, and shame engaged me to be present in any encoun∣ter, the torment I suffer'd was above imagination. Example did not animate me, the noise of arrowes elashing together made my heart quake; I was al∣waies prepar'd for a retreat, and alwaies observ'd to be last at the battle, and the for most in the flight. I went whither I was unwilling to go, I did not go where I desir'd to be; I was possess'd with fear and shame: and amidst all this, with a sottish pride, which caused me to do things of which I repented a moment after. But that which afflicted me most, was, that though at my return from the war, I spoke as if I had been couragious, yet I knew it was under∣stood well enough that I was not. Therefore I say once again, there is nothing more painful than to want courage; and a brave person that ingages in a hundred thousand dangers, suffers much less than a man who continually fear things which are not to be fear'd. Now therefore (said Damon) can what Amil∣car saies be doubted of? for could he invent an ad∣venture of this nature, were it not truth that forces him to speak? Damon pronounc'd these words after a manner which surpriz'd all the company; indeed he was a person not absolutely without wit; but when a man is once capable to give himself up to believe a difficult & extroardinary thing, he maintains it more obstinately than if it were easie to be believ'd, and is so prepossess'd with it, that he is easily perswaded of any thing that may serve to authorize it. Thus the poor Damon, not perceiving that his Rival made sport with him, conjur'd him that he would proceed. Ceso∣nia

and Valeria did the same; Anacreon, Herminius, A∣crisius, and Sicinius, press'd him to it; so that resuming his discourse, I assure you, (said he) that Life, which they say is a thing very precious, is notwithstanding more painful then 'tis thought to be. For tho I remember every thing that I have been, yet I do not remember I was ever perfectly happy. Never∣thelesse, I was not altogether miserable after having been so fearful; for I was destin'd to become a Swan; I had also the good hap to be in one of the goodliest Lakes that ever I beheld, and to feed very frequently from the fairest hands in the world; for the place I was in, belong'd to a very beautiful person who lov'd me extremely. But at length it behov'd me to sing in order to my death; on which occasion I found, that, tho they say the singing of Swans is very agreeable, it is so troublesome to the singers, that I was ex∣treamly willing to change my shape. I repented me soon after that wish; for, the gods, to punish me for being dissatisfied with my condition, when I was one of the fairest Swans that ever was in the world, made me a bad Poet. This was a state of great mi∣sery to me; not but that I accounted all that I com∣pos'd, very good, and admir'd my self for it; but alwaies some adventure hapned, which made me know I was my own sole admirer. I bethought my self one day unhappily, to go shew some Verses I had made in a great Company, without declaring my self to be the Author, hoping thereby to be commended the more. But I repented my selfe of it extreamely; for there was no person but judg'd them bad, and made a mockery of them. But that which afflicted me yet more, was, that I defended them in such a manner, as gave those who derided them, to under∣stand that I made them; upon which, beginning to moderate what they had said, they wholly cast me into despair. Not but that I believ'd they judg'd badly of my Verses; but this did not hinder me from being possess'd with infinite indignation. I lookt upon the Age I liv'd in as ignorant, that people did not judge but according to their capricious humour or favour, that I deserv'd better than they who were commended above me; and at length I dy'd in the error I had liv'd in, that is, I alwaies be∣liev'd my Verses were good, tho I remember well at this day, they were extream bad. But for that I had alwaies devour'd my self, the decree of fate was, that I should become a Pelican, which not∣withstanding, is a Bird sufficiently rare, and of which kind, there are not many more than of that of the Phoenix: but at last dying to give life to my little Pelicans, which were very sprightly, my Soul was sent to Sparta, to animate the body of a young Lacedemonian, who was the most dexterous Thief that ever liv'd. There I rob'd so cunningly, that one day a young and fair person, confest to me, I had stolne her heart above six moneths before she per∣ceiv'd it. How? Amilcar, (cry'd Plotina, who only took an occasion to laugh) you put me in great fear, and I should be circumvented, if you should have taken my heart without my knowing any thing of it. As for that point, (answer'd Damon coldly) 'tis apparent, Amilcar is pleas'd to add an agreeable Fiction to Truth, tho he would do better to speak a little more seriously of a matter of such importance I will do what you desire, (reply'd Amilcar, with∣out being mov'd) and tell you that after this I became a jealous Husband; then, a jealous Mis∣tresse; shortly after, a jealous Lover, a jealous Wife, a jealous Friend, jealous without cause and reason; and, in brief, experienc'd jealousie in so many man∣ners, that I may say, I was for several Ages ex∣tremely miserable. But that which is remarkable, (continu'd Amilcar) is, that I never was an old man, and therefore I am desirous, out of cu∣riosity only to become so once. I believe it, (an∣swer'd Plotina smiling) but not to let slip the oc∣casion of contenting my curiosity, since you have made tryal of jealousy of all sorts that can be, tell us a little, whether a jealous Wife be tormented more than a jealous Husband? No doubt she is, (answer'd Amilcar) for the passions of Women when they love being more violent, it is easie to judge, that their jealousie is more tormenting to them than that of Men; besides, having not so much liberty to act in order to clearing their sus∣picions, nor so much power to be reveng'd, they must needs suffer far more. For my part, (said Anacreon) I would ask of you whether the jealousie of a Husband be more troublesome than that of a Lover? That of a Husband (answer'd Anacreon) is more troublesome for the Wife, than that of a Lo∣ver is for his Mistresse: but as for him that suffers, I assure you, that according to the experience I have made of it, it is more incommodious to be a jealous Husband, than to be a jealous Lover. For my part, (said Herminius) I conceive, that instead of in∣quiring of Amilcar, those different degrees of jea∣lousie, it were better he told us what jealousie is; for after having try'd it so much, methinks he should better understand it than we do. Herminius has reason, (said Damon) for by so many several e∣ffects as Amilcar has seen of jealousie, he may have discover'd it's true cause and nature. I assure you, (answer'd he) jealousie is a thing harder to be known than is believ'd; and when I consider all my several jealousies, I find my self sufficiently perplex'd, to tell you what I conceive of that passion. Yet 'tis certainly a very powerful one, and more powerful than Love; since it sometimes extinguishes it. But that which is constantly true, is, that as a stone does more or lesse mischief proportionably to the strength or weaknesse of the arme that flings it; so jealousie is greater or lesse, according to the mea∣sure of Love, from whence it arises. But yet I de∣sire to know, (said Anacreon) whether jealousie arises from the greatnesse of Love, or from the dis∣trust one has of himself, or of the person lov'd? Why one cannot love vehemently without being a little jealous? and why it is necessary that the great∣est punishment of life, should be inseparably con∣joyn'd with the greatest pleasure in the World? The reason is, (answer'd Amilcar) because Love is no∣thing but a desire, desires are scarce ever without fear, and fear in Love not without jealousie. For as of necessity Love must precede jealousie, so of neces∣sity likwise jealousie, must be preceded by fear. For, were it not fear'd a woman might prove unfaithful, no person would ever be jealous; if it were not fear'd a Rival might be lov'd, none would be pos∣sess'd with jealousie; so that it may be said, if there were no fear, there would be no jealousie; if no∣thing were fear'd, there would be no desires; and if no desires, no Love. But because people desire, therefore they love; because they love, they fear; and because they fear, they are jealous: So that to de∣termine the original of jealousie, it must be held to be the daughter of desire and fear, and because one

cannot love without desire and fear, it is almost an impossibility to love long without jealousie. Your discourse is extreamly rational, (answer'd Damon), but yet it would be better to proceed, to inform us; what you have been in latter times. Of a jealous Husband, (said Amilcar) I became a Tyger in Lybia, a Shepherd in Arcadia, a Carver at Corinth, a Pea∣cock in Sicily, a Painter at Athens, a Musician in Lydia, and an Owle at Praeneste. But for that the relation of my adventures while an Owle, would not afford you much Pleasure, I shall content my selfe, to tell you only what I was before I was Amil∣car. I beseech you tell us that presently, (said Ploti∣na). I was Servius Tullus, (answer'd he, with a strange confidence). How? (said Plotina, with a fain'd astonishment) were you a King of Rome? Yes (answer'd he) and therefore it was I told you, in the beginning of my discourse, you would no longer wonder at my boldnesse in loving you, af∣ter you knew all that I have been; and this is the reason also that I hate Tarquin so much, and have lign'd my selfe to the service of Rome. For they who have any remembrance left of their several changes, have also some inclinations, in their pre∣sent condition, correspondent to what they have been; and therefore you ought not wonder that I love Rome, altho I am an African. No, (reply'd Ploti∣na maliciously); for Rome is sufficiently lovely of her selfe, to attract your affection: but I wonder very much at your so exact remembrance of so many things, and at my own remembring nothing at all. For, as for my part, I declare to you, I do not re∣member I was ever any other than Plotina. But per∣haps (answer'd Amilcar similing) it is, because you have not consider'd on it; for certainly it is not without the strength of deep reflection, that I have been able to recount to you all I have done. Amil∣car spoke this with a certain air, beholding Plotina, which suddenly signifi'd to Damon, that this Rival had made pastime of his opinions, and fain'd these stories to divert the Companie. For my part, (said Acrisius then, who sought occasion onely to speak) I will endeavour to recite all the changes Amilcar re∣members of himselfe. Do not give your selfe the trouble, (answer'd Damon rising up) for I am assur'd that tho it be true that Amilcar remembers what he has been, when I am gone, he will say, his intenti∣on was only to make pastime, and divert you with pleasant mockerie; but whatever he sayes, it is cetain, the opinion of Pythagoras is that alone, which can be follow'd with reason. Damon spake this with something a sharp tone of his voice, which sig∣nifi'd, that he at length perceiv'd Amilcar only to deride his belief. Plotina therefore was offering to say something to to pacify him, but he went a∣way, and would not continue longer. 'Tis true, he afforded great pleasure to the Company, and e∣specially to Plotina, who had an extream desire to laugh in liberty at Amilcar's confidence, in relating all those odd changes. For my part, (said she) I can∣not understand how a man otherwise indu'd with reason, can be capable to believe things so extrava∣gant. I am not of your mind, (said Anacreon) for I never wonder'd at any thing, and lesse at these kind of things than others; because there is never any prepossession of mind so strong, as that which has some appearance of Religion and Piety. For the morality of Phythagoras, having pleas'd Damon, be∣cause it was full of humanity and sweetnesse, he af∣terwards submitted his mind, to believe all that has been taught by a Man, whose Virtue charm'd him. For as we more easily believe what our Friends tell us, than what we learn from our Enemies, or people who are indifferent to us; so it often times falls out in the reading of Books. Men take an affection to the opinions of some persons, in certain matters; and when their affection is so setled, they are after∣wards capable to believe all that he saies, upon his word, and in the mean time, thinks they are perswad∣ed to do so by their own reason. But in brief (inter∣rupted Plotina) should the best of my Friends tell me, 'Tis further from the top of the Capitol to the bank of Tyber, than from the bank of Tyber to the top of the Capitol, I should not believe him; because my reason would inform me otherwise. As often as any one goes about to tell things contrary to a truth known to all the World: (reply'd Anacreon), you will not be perswaded to believe them; but when a per∣son for whom you have a very great esteem, endea∣vours to perswade you to follow his opinion blindly, no question, it must be some thing of that kind, which no person can ever know perfectly, unlesse the gods reveal it to him, and which cannot be judg'd of but by conjectures; the testimonies are so frequent∣ly dubious, that they sometimes occasion great er∣rors in the world. Which being so, it is not to be wonder'd, if a person who by his own reason can∣not penetrate into the truth, gives credit to a man whom he otherwise infinitely esteems, and believes him to have discover'd what he is unable to do, blind∣ly embracing his sentiments upon a false conceit of being induc'd to do so by a thousand reasons. There∣fore they are to be excus'd, who are not of our senti∣ments; for the belief we have of things supernatur∣al, does not depend absolutely of our selves, If I were an Aethiopian, I should not believe that which I now do; if Amilcar were a Roman, he would have other sentiments; if Herminius were a Greek, he would have opinions which now he has not, altho the Greeks and Romans agree in several matters. Wherefore, I think, I have reason to say, 'tis injustice to accuse those of folly, who endeavour to defend the opinions of their Forefathers, and their Coun∣try; and that their unhappinesse is justly to be pity∣ed, in being educated with a prejudic'd reason, which hinders them from discerning the truth; and it is charity to pray the gods to enlighten them. Let us therefore pity the poor Damon, (answer'd Plotina) for he his really worthy of pity for believing Amilcar was a Phoenix. After this, the Subject of the con∣versation being chang'd, they discours'd of a thou∣sand delightfull matters, till Artemidorus coming thither, inform'd the Company, intelligence was brought that the Siege of Rome was resolv'd upon by Porsenna and Tarquin, and that in a few dayes they must look to see the enemie's Army about the walls. This news chang'd the discourse and oblig'd this no∣ble company to retire. Three dayes after, there was a magnificent Ceremony in Rome; for, the Chief Vestal being dead suddenly, she that was to succeed her, and to whom she had voluntarily a lit∣tle time before resign'd all authority, was put in pos∣session of it, by the Chief of that Order, in pre∣sence of the Senate, and all the people. The de∣ceased Vestal being Sister to Clelius. Clidamira and Berelisa, thought ••••t to go and comfort Sulspitia and Clelia; but Valeria withheld them, telling them, that when a Vestal dies, after having satisfi'd all the

engagements she was oblig'd to, it would be an in∣jury in her Relations, to be afflicted for her death, there being nothing so glorious, as to have pass'd her life in keeping the sacred Fire, without having ever committed the least fault. And moreover (ad∣ded Valeria) those two persons are at present suffici∣ently employ'd in conjecturing what the great Ve∣stal intended to say at her death; for finding her self not well, she gave charge to one to desire Clelius to take care of Plotina, and to tell him she was the Daughter—She would have said something more, but Death intercepted her speech: so that none can devise what to think of this adventure. In the mean time, great rejoycing was made at Rome by the People, when they vnderstood, she that was going to be chief of the Vestals, was worthy of the honour she was to possess. Since we are Strangers here (answer'd Berelisa) I shall be glad you would please to make me know that person before I see the ceremony, which is to be solemniz'd this day, for according to the sentiments I have at present, if it were permitted to become a Vestal at the age I am of, and a Stranger might be one, I should gladly embrace that retirement. But since it is not I must be contented to be one of the friends of the Chief Vestal. And indeed Berelisa, whose jealousie daily encreas'd, being weary of residing all her life with Clidamira, had a desire to obtain the friendship of the grand Vestal, to the end that she might make use of her power in Rome, in case she should stand in need of it: wherefore pressing Valeria to describe her to her, and Clidamira not opposing her curiosity, Va∣leria satisfied her in the following words.

The prudent Octavia (for so is the Chief Vestal call'd) is so worthy of the rank she is going to possesse, that since the first Original of that Order, there never was any whose birth was more illustri∣ous, and vertue more glorious. For she is of a de∣scent so noble, that none is more, whether you con∣sider her Fathers Family or that of her Mother, whose beauty was so admirable, that they who have seen, affirm the splendor of Lucretia's was in∣inferior to hers. She had also this extraordinary advantage, that time had respect to her beauty; for tho she was not young when she di'd, yet she then went beyond all other fair ones. She had likewise the glory, not onely to die with all her charms, but also to behold Death with so great Constancy, that she seem'd to triumph over it, tho she was constrain'd to yield to it; such admirable courage did she te∣stifie in that fatal encounter. But to return to the vertuous Octavia. You must know she was shut up in the Cloyster of the Vestals, when she was but seven years old, and being of a race to which beauty seems necessarily appendant, she was then the fairest Child in the World, and is yet at this day so fair, so lovely, and of so good and charming an aspect, that it is easie to conceive the truth of what I say. Octavia is tall, has much modesty in her countenance, and goodness in her looks, a thou∣sand charms in her mouth, spirit and sweetness in her eyes, and sometimes cheerfulness too, tho she has the most prudent aspect in the World, and is really one of the wisest persons upon the face of the Earth. Octavia has a clear complexion, a round visage, lit∣tle dimples in her cheeks and chin, blew eyes admi∣rably handsome, and a certain air of freedome, goodness, and modesty, which is perfectly pleasing. Yet that modesty of hers has something of greatness in it and does not detract from a certain noble as∣pect, which is peculiar to those of her Family. She has a young Sister, who has been brought up with her, and tenderly loves her, who is one of the fair∣est persons in the World; whose beauty has all that can aspire respect; for she is tall and of a handsome shape, her hair is of a light ash-colour, her com∣plexion is the fairest that ever was beheld, she blu∣shes after the most charming manner that ever any person did, she has extream lovely eyes, of a kind of blew, which renders them so sweet, that never was there more agreeable looks than hers. Yet the casts of her eyes are negligent, but so full of Love, that they inspire it to all such as are capable of it. Another wonder of the fair Cerintha is, that her whole Countenance is so graceful, her mouth so handsomly shap'd, her lips of so pure a carnati∣on, and her smiles so charming, that nothing can possibly be fanci'd of greater perfection. More∣over her neck is so comely, that 'tis hard to know to what part to give the preheminence; but with so many perfections, which might excite her to pride, Cerintha is modest; she makes no account of her beauty, she passionately loves glory, and begins to see the World with as much prudence, as if she had had the leisure to know it. It may be said her vertue surpasses her beauty, and that she will get as much esteem by her wisdome, as she will ex∣cite love by the charms she is Mistress of. But to return to Octavia, tho she has been shut up amongst the Vestal Virgins in her tenderest intancy, and be now of an age, in which it cannot be said she has had leasure to have much experience, yet she has a wit of excellent capacity, a Soul confirm'd in ver∣tue by a thousand reflections upon the condition she has chosen, which she admirably acquits her self of. For tho Octavia be naturally sufficiently de∣bonaire, yet she has been alwaies one of the most exact persons in the World to do her duty; and since the first being of Vestals, there never was any so careful and so punctual in observing all things which her profession requires. Whilst she was in the age of obedience, she obeyed with submissi∣on; when she came to command, she commanded with an authority that makes her be fear'd, and nevertheless makes her be belov'd too, even by those that fear her. She vigorously maintains the priviledges of the Vestals, and gently remits her severity in favour of her Companions upon se∣veral small inconsiderable occasions, when nothing is concern'd but her own interest. Order is ad∣mirably observ'd in that Society, the Temple is well serv'd, modesty is eminent in all her deport∣ment; there is constancy and sweetness, justice and mildness in her mind. Moreover Octavia speaks excellently well of all things, without affecting a certain capacity which reasonable persons cannot endure; and when any occasion is presented for her to speak to the other Vestals, to exhort them to their duties, she do's it with so much eloquence, that they as much admire her wit as they love her per∣son. 'Tis also very considerable, that tho Octavia is a very fit person for the World, yet she continues most strictly confin'd within the bounds of her pro∣fession, and which is yet more strange, all her sen∣timents are heroical; she considers matters very scrupulously, she speaks and writes exactly, and, which renders her infinitely lovely, understands all the dearness of true firiendship, and prudently

chooses such as she makes happy with her own. She has also the good fortune that the other Vestals are worthy to be with her, especially three, who are all extreamly amiable; but there is one amongst the rest, who has a great interest in her heart, and that deservedly: for she is a very rare person, of a graceful and lovely aspect; her birth is very no∣ble, her heart is generous and tender, she is infinitely ingenious, her humour is sweet and complacent, and with all this she has the true aspect of a sincere ho∣nest person, and a tender, and a constant friendship for the admirable Octavia, who cannot be com∣mended after all the manners she deserves, because she will not suffer her self to be commended with exaggeration. Yet it must be said further to her ho∣nour, that she loves glory passionately, that nothing affects her so sensibly, and when any thinks to com∣mend her before the other Vestals, they say half of the rare qualities she possesses, and the charms which render her so admirable are not known. Do me then the favour which I infinitely desire (reply'd Be∣relisa) to bring me into the affection of the grand Vestal; you are so accustom'd (answer'd Clidamira tauntingly) to make your self belov'd by whom you please, that, if you have the desire, you need only seek out an occasion to make your self known. You seem to speak obligingly (reply'd Berelisa) but yet I assure you, I understand you as I ought.

After this Valeria having told them it was time to go to the Temple, if they intended to see the Ce∣remony, these fair Strangers accompani'd her thi∣ther. Where being well plac'd they saw Valeria had not flatter'd the grand Vestal, and that she was fairer than she had describ'd her. She perform'd this Ce∣remony with so much Majesty and so good a grace, that she charm'd all those that heheld her. Berelisa in particular looking upon her as a person from whom she expected to be protected, was ingag'd to love her from that very moment. Clelia hav∣ing lost her Predecessor was considering to gain her affection, to the end she might make use of her authority if she should need it; for the Vestals have a great interest in Rome. Plotina also hoping to know more fully by Octavia what her deceas'd Predecessor had spoken concerning her at her death, was solici∣tous of getting a place in her affection: Thus these several persons for different reasons purpos'd to ac∣quire the friendship of the grand Vestal, who at the end of the Ceremony continued alone standing by the holy Fire, to shew an example to all the other Vestals. The next day a rumour was spread a∣broad that the enemies Army was upon their march with all speed. This news indeed was true; for the King of Hetruria, understanding the preparati∣ons that were making for the defence of Rome, thought fit to give no leisure to fortifie it more; and therefore hastened his design. And besides Tarquin himself prest him him fo assiduously when he was ar∣riv'd at Clusium, that he gave him no rest. 'Tis true Galerita and the Princess of the Leontines did all they could to protract matters in length; but being un∣willing to become suspected, they dar'd not employ all their credit to that end. So that they could not much retard the execution of that grand design; but for that they desir'd at least Aronces might be free, they perform'd their promise made to that illustri∣ous Prisoner, and perswaded Porsenna it was fit he should be brought out of prison on condition to serve in the Army intended for the siege of Rome; and told him, during that time, they would incline him to embrace the propounded marriage of the Princess of Cere, who was reported to be a great beauty. Galeri∣ta having promis'd in the name of Aronces, more than Aronces would have promis'd himself, Porsenna sent order to him who commanded in the Island of Saules to bring Aronces forthwith for Clusium. But when he receiv'd this order, the Prince was not yet return'd from that secret voyage, which he made to Rome, accompani'd with the old man who inform'd Plotina of so many things; so that this man was in a strange perplexity. At first he told him that brought it, the Prince was sick and not to be seen, and that a little time ought to be waited for his re∣covery, to carry him to Clusium. But tho he set a good face on the business he was in extream trou∣ble, Which nevertheless did not torment him long; for towards midnight Aronces according to his promise return'd into the Prison, to go forth a∣gain the next morning. For as soon as it was day, it was told him that brought the Order from Por∣senna, that the Prince having slept well that night, was something better and would obey the King of Hetruria, and that he might go and assure Porsenna of as much. He was also introduc'd to Aronces, who spoke to him very respectfully of the King his father: but at length when this messenger of the K. Porsenna was gone, Aronces prepar'd himself to depart, and pro∣mis'd that Kinsman of Plotina, that he would in that time procure his deliverance out of prison, not doub∣ting to obtain it by his interest in Galerita. But when he consider'd upon the way, that he was going to Clu∣sium, only in order to go and besiege Rome, and that it behov'd him to live with Tarquin and Sextus, he was in extream dispair. As for the Prince Titus, he was his friend, and he hop'd some consolation from his presence; but when he imagin'd the war was ready to begin, that he could not think of seeing Clelia so long as it lasted, nor reasonably hope to be happy, he suffer'd more than can be express'd; and if a sentiment of glory had not supported his vertue, he had taken some extream resolution, and could not have resolv'd to go serve Princes whom he despis'd and hated, a∣gainst people whom he lov'd and esteem'd. But when he consider'd, that Horatius would defend Rome, he felt a secret desire in his heart to be enemy to it, not∣withstanding all his reluctancy. With these thoughts Aronces arriv'd at Clusium; as soon as he was there, the Queen his Mother visited him to instruct him in the manner it was fit for him to speak to the King his Fa∣ther, whom he saw the first time in private. Aronces being the goodliest Prince in the world, Porsenna could not behold him without having his heart mollifi'd, & Aronces was so absolutely Master of it in this occasion, that Porsenna was highly pleas'd with him. Indeed Galerita had prevail'd with the King of Hetruria not to say any thing to Aronces concerning his Love; but that which was most troublesome to Aronces was, that Tarquin and Sextus being then at Clusium, he could not avoid seing them the same day. 'Tis true, it was in the presence of Porsenna, and so the matter was dispaeht a little more easily. And besides, Tarquin being a sub∣tle Prince, and one that had a great faculty of dissimu∣lation, and Sextus being of a jovial easie nature, and ca∣pable to forget all things past, in a moment; they both receiv'd Aronces as if they had always lov'd him, & as the son of a King from whom alone they could expect their reestablishment at Rome. As for Aronces, it was ea∣sie to perceive that the respect he would render to the

King his Father, oblig'd him to receive the civilities of Tarquin and Sextus; he had also the generosity to express some tokens of the difference he made be∣tween the virtuous Titus and them, for he deported himself after another manner towards him in the sight of all the Court. After this Aronces to follow the counsel of Galerita in all things, went to visit the Princess of the Leontines, whom he honor'd infinitely; for out of the design he had, not to be persecuted with the marriage of the daughter of the King of Ceres, he resolv'd to give Porsenna occasion to imagine that the Princess of the Leontines might cause him to for∣get Clelia. Not but that this kind of Artifice was dis∣pleasing to him; but having advertis'd Clelia of it, he resolv'd upon it, with the thought that at least he might often be at liberty to complain of his unhap∣piness, with a most generous Princess. When he went to wait upon her, he found a Lady there one of the most vertuous in the world, and who was ex∣treamly belov'd by her, as well as by Galerita. Her name was Melintha; for her descent being from Greece, her name came also to be of that Country. And being very powerful in this Court by the great number of Friends she had in it, the Princess of the Leontines was desirous Aronces should contract a friendship with her. And accordingly finding her at first gentle, sweet, ingenious, and compassionate, he desir'd to have some place in her affection, and intreated of her so obligingly, that she promis'd it him with joy; for she saw his unhappiness was as great as his vertue, and she was very willing to be one of his friends, especially because she had power to serve him. Upon the return of Aronces all the Court was fill'd with joy, all the young Per∣sons of quality presented themselves to him, the people made a publick rejoycing, and there was no one fair Person, who did not hope to dispossess Cle∣lia of his heart. Yet it was a very rash design, and prov'd very ill to those who attempted it; for Aron∣ces tho civil and complacent, could take no plea∣sure but in the company of the Princess of the Leon∣tines, with whom he talk'd in freedom, or with Ti∣tus, who loving Rome as well as he, pitied him with much dearness, and did not act like a Son of Tar∣quin, but as a real and faithful friend. In the mean time, as the friendship of Princes, especially when they are young, is easily misconstrued for Love, in a few daies it was reported in the Court of the King of Hetruria that Aronces was become amorous of the Princess of the Leontines, tho he did not profess Court∣ship to her; besides that, Galerita being desirous Por∣senna should believe so, to the end the Prince her Son might be more ingratiated with him, contributed very much to make the rumor credited, notwithstand∣ing Aronces's reluctancy, hoping this would hinder the King from urging his marriage with the daugh∣ter of the King of Ceres, which was only design'd to dis-engage his heart from the love of Clelia. And moreover Aronces was so frequently with the Princess of the Leontines, that it was imagin'd that the occa∣sion of it could be no other but Love. Yet he enter∣tain'd her only with discourse of his Passion for Cle∣lia, and the excellencies of that admirable Lady. But as the Courts of Princes are never so splendid nor populous, as when a war is to begin, that of the King of Hetruria was at this time magnificent, and extreamly numerous. Tarquin, Sextus and the Prince his brother was there; an old Lover of the Princess of the Leontines was there also, not so much to serve Porsenna as to importune that generous La∣dy. The Prince of Messene arriv'd there, who was sufficiently surpriz'd when he understood the sister of Artemidorus was there; for it was reported that when she was in Sicily she was amongst the veil'd Virgins. Nevertheless, the case being otherwise, he render'd all the civility he ought her, tho he was Ri∣val to the Prince her brother. Besides all these Prin∣ces, all the people of quality of Tarquin and Veii came to Clusium; Telanus amongst others repair'd thither, and acquitted himself punctually of what he had promis'd Clelia and Octavius: for he offer'd himself to Aronces as one wholly at his devotion in all occasi∣ons whatsoever. Artemidorus and Zenocrates being at Rome, the Princess of the Leontines was very desirous these combustions might be pacifi'd. She wisht her self able to contribute to this great design, tho she saw no great likelihood in it; but she conceiv'd, if the War could be deferr'd for one year, she might possibly be then in a condition to hinder it; Tarquin was old, and several accidents might fall out to change the face of affairs: She imparted her thoughts to Galerita, who finding she had reason in her opini∣on, endeavour'd to bring it to pass, that some secret Negotiation might be undertaken. Yet she did not acquaint Aronces with her design, imagining that a∣ny thing, which might draw matters out in length would not seem advantageous to him, because Love causes prejudice in the minds of those that are pos∣sost with it. And accordingly these two Princesses acted with so much address, that Porsenna consented to the attempting to find out some expedient for the accommoding of affairs, to the end the War he in∣tended to make upon Rome, might appear more just, if an equitable proposition were refus'd. Tarquin was extremly backward to consent to this delay, but Porsenna having promis'd him, that this Treaty should last but fifteen daies, he resolv'd upon it, on condition the business might be carried privately, that so in case it should not succeed it might not be reproacht to him, to have ask'd a peace of Rome. Ga∣lerita improving this occasion, propounded to request the Princess of the Leontines, who was of a condition fit to intermeddle in such affairs, and had as great a capacity as was necessary for the like transactions, that she would go to Rome, accompani'd with two men of quality. This proposition pleas'd Porsenna, because believing his Son enamour'd on this Prin∣cess, he thought she would preserve her conquest, and out of the desire of coming to be Queen of Hetruria, do nothing that might be advantageous to Clelia. The difficulty was, to propound something which might have some probability of succeeding; but se∣veral dextrous persons undertaking this affair, it was resolv'd it should be demanded the form of Go∣vernment should continue Monarchical, that the Ti∣tle of King should remain to Tarquin, and, that to satisfie the Romans, he should continue a year lon∣ger out of Rome, and so should Sextus too, provided the Prince Titus, who was not hated, should be ad∣mitted to dwell there. Tarquin did not oppose this proposition; not that it pleas'd him, but because he conceiv'd Rome would never accept it. When Aron∣ces understood the business, he was extreamly afflict∣ed at it, but considering it well, he thought it would be advantageous to him, for the Princess of the Le∣ontines to see Clelia. This design was soon put in execution. To which purpose Telanus was chosen to go to Rome, to demand safe conduct for the

Princess of the Leontines. In the mean time A∣ronces mov'd Galerita to procure the deliverance of Plotina's Kinsman, who was prisoner in the Island of Saules; she promis'd to do it, and desir'd some time to oblige Porsenna to set him at liberty. Aron∣ces writ to Clelia by Telanus, and Telanus acquitting himself readily of his Commission, brought back all the assurances that were desir'd for the Prin∣cess of the Leontines, who knowing the credit Arte∣midorus and Zenocrates had at Rome, would not have fear'd to have gone thither without any other assu∣rance than that she might have expected from their interest. But at length having receiv'd instructions from Porsenna, and the most passionate expres∣sions imaginable to Clelia from Aronces, who like∣wise gave Telanus a second Letter for that fair Lady, the Princess put her self upon the way to Rome. In the mean while, Publicola was not sorry for this de∣lay, because it afforded him time to fortifie the Ci∣ty, and provide for its safety. The Princess of the Leontines had in her company, besides Telanus, two men of good years. And whil'st this Negotia∣ation was secretly treating at Rome, the Princess was receiv'd there onely as a Stranger come thither only out of curiosity. But Publicola and several others knowing what relation she had to Artemidorus, that her heart sided with Rome, and she was troubled at Porsenna's protecting of Tarquin, treated her in pri∣vate with all imaginable honours. As for Clelia, she was very joyful for her arrival, out of a thought to get some place in her friendship, and to engage her to be more favourable to her interests. Plotina was also very glad to understand by Telanus, that he who was to inform her what she was, was to be set at li∣berty. Horatius being ignorant of the great intima∣cy she had with Aronces, render'd her all the honour which was due to her quality; but as for Themi∣sius, Meleagenes, Herminius, Amilcar, Octavius, Me∣rigenes, Anacreon, Aemilius, and several others, they waited upon her every day. Clidamira and Berelisa likewise visited her constantly; and, the former de∣siring to obtain her favour, propos'd several things to her, relating to the conclusion of the peace, and her return to Leontium. Valeria, and Plotina were very diligent in waiting upon her. Sulpicia, Sivel∣ia, and the Aunt of Brutus, who were the principal Ladies of Rome, went frequently to see her, and Clelia took occasion to do the like as often as she could. Artemidorus was very serviceable in rendring this society more free, for he told his sister so many things in commendation of Clelia, that nothing could be added more; and assur'd Clelia so fully of the good intentions of that Princess, that when they saw one another they were presently perswaded of their mutual friendship. The Princess of the Leontines found Clelia so fair, so lovely, and so charming, that she could not but commend Aronces for his con∣stancy; and Clelia lookt upon the Princess of the Leontines as a person so Amiable, and capable to in∣duce to infidelity, that she fear'd it might be dan∣gerous for her interests, that Aronces should see her too often; and this thought made so strong an impression in her heart, that she could not contain from testifying something of it to her one day, as they were discoursing together with very much dear∣ness. I confess to (you said the Princess of the Leon∣tines then to her) I am so great a Lover of constan∣cy, that I have hitherto serv'd Aronces to the utmost of my power, onely because I saw he was faithful to you. But after having seen you, I shall serve him with greater ardour, because, having much friendship for him, I should be glad to assist him in the preservation of a good which is of infinite va∣lue. For, is there any thing so precious (added she) as the affection of a person endu'd with beauty, wit, vertue, goodness, and fidelity? I beseech you, Ma∣dam, (answer'd Clelia) do not extol me so much, and suffer me to take my turn of commending you, and to tell you, I find you have so many charms, that I fear much, lest Aronces become unfaithful. For lincerely I confess to you I know not how he can re∣sist you, and I find you so far above me, that I can∣not but look upon you with as much fear as pleasure. Your discourse has too much of Complement (re∣pli'd the Princess of the Leontines) and is so ill grounded) that it would be a piece of vanity to an∣swer it seriously. And moreover, (added she, smi∣ling) you know your self better than you speak; but tho it were not so, and your modesty conceal'd from you part of your charms, yet you are well e∣nough acquainted with the heart of Aronces, not to apprehend it impossible for him to be inconstant, A∣lass! Madam, (answer'd Clelia) I do not conceive there can ever be any assurance of not being liable to lose a thing, the possession of which is sweet. I agree with you in that, (repli'd the Princess) that it may be fear'd; but I dare say you cannot without in∣justice apprehend it possible for Aronces to cease to love you. Give me therefore your friendship without scruple, I conjure you, and believe, that Prince has the most tender and faithful affection for you, that ever any person had, and that I am dispos'd to love you with the most sincere and constant friendship that ever was. If it be so, Madam, (an∣swer'd Clelia) I am perfectly glorious; for I look upon you as a person so lovely, that it will be an in∣finite contentment to me, to think I am belov'd by one that cannot be seen without being lov'd. This conversation would have continu'd longer, if word had not been brought to the Princess of the Leon∣tines, that Publicola desir'd to speak with her. Clelia judging it was a visit concerning affairs rather than of civility, offer'd to depart; but the Princess intreat∣ed her to go into a great Closet, which was in her Chamber, with a Lady of quality that came with her, whose name was Amiclea, and who was a person of very much wit. A moment after, Vale∣ria, Plotina, Herminius, and Telanus, came thither; so that there was a conversation not meanly delight∣ful amongst these six persons. But that 'tis a ci∣vil custome to discourse with Strangers about such things as they know best, not onely for that reason, but also to understand something unheard of before, all these Ladies address'd their discourse to Amiclea, either concerning the Princess of the Leontines, or the Court of the King of Hetruria. Valeria, also so well understood that she did a plea∣sure to Clelia, by making a curious inquiry of all that past at Clusium, that she ask't a hundred things of the amiable Amiclea, which otherwise she would not have spoken of. I beseech you (said she to her, after several things, which directly concern'd the Princess of the Leontines) tell us, what Ladies A∣ronces has most frequently visited since his coming out of prison, and whether it be true, that there are abundance of amiable women at Clusium. There are so many beauties there, (answer'd Amiclea) that handsomeness is there scarce accounted of. Yet

that is not much the custome (repli'd Plotina); for amongst young persons Vertue is far less extol'd than Beauty. 'Tis true, (answer'd Amiclea) but it must be spoken, in the praise of our Court, that a Wo∣man who is no more than barely fair, draws some gazers, but does not acquire much esteem. Beauty, no doubt, is lookt upon there; but, above all, agree∣ableness, wit, excellent deportment, and a kind of secret charm, not consistent with stupidity, are prin∣cipally sought after. But I beseech you, (said Vale∣ria) answer what I desired of you, and tell me who those persons are Aronces visits most. I assure you, (answer'd Amiclea) tho that Prince be very civil, and enforces himself to be so, as much as he can; yet it is well enough seen, that his heart is at Rome, that he takes not much notice of what he sees. Ne∣vertheless, there are two persons which he visits ve∣ry frequently, and who are his principal Friends. The Princess of the Leontines is certainly one, (said Clelia). 'Tis true, (anwser'd Amiclea); and the second, is a Lady of quality, who has a very great interest in his esteem, and is so highly consider'd at Court, that there is none more admir'd. Cle∣lia being then very desirous to know a little more exactly who this friend of Aronces was, made a sign to Valeria, who understanding what she meant, requested Amiclea, that she would please to tell her what excellent qualities the Lady had, of whom she spake. You ask more things at once than you imagine, (answer'd Telanus) for Melintha is a Lady of so great worth, that there are few her equals. I beseech you then, (said Plotina smiling) make me acquainted with her forthwith, in the best manner you can. That is, in a word, (added Va∣leria) all the Company are desirous you would please to make a faithful description of that Friend of Aronces, that we may know, whether or no we ought to fear he loves her more than us. I assure you (answer'd Telanus) if the lovely Amiclea draw her pourtrait exactly, you will find she cannot be lov'd too much, and all the Company will be per∣swaded she ought to be Aronces's Friend. For my part, (said Herminius) methinks I love her already, I fancy her so rarely accomplisht. Speak then I conjure you, (said Clelia) and omit nothing, which may serve to make us perfectly know this Friend of Aronces. Since you desire it, (answer'd Amiclea) I shall tell you that Melintha is a Lady of so rare a Vertue, that she deserves to be propos'd for an exam∣ple to all others; there is something in her heart so noble, so great, so good, so tender, and so heroical, that it may be said the gods have atcheiv'd their master-piece, in making her. For there is nothing more difficult to find, than a Woman who possesses all the riches together, which go to the making up of a Man of honour, and which accomplish an ex∣cellent Woman, The same temper which gives a great heart and high generosity, is not alwaies well accommodated for modesty: that which causes to love exact Justice, does not very often consist with that sweet and sociable complacence, which is so necessary for Ladies who converse in the World. That which gives constancy in important affairs, does not give mildness in less matters, that which makes capable of great actions, does not stoop to certain trifles which are nevertheless a piece of de∣cency almost necesary to women in some occasi∣ons. Now Melintha having really in her breast all the vertues of an honourable Man, and all those of an excellent Woman, deserves all the commen∣dations that can be given severally to both sexes, As for her person, tho she be infinitely amiable, of a handsome stature, and slender, has hair very bright, eyes full of spirit and sweetness, a spright∣ly, modest, and agreeable countenance, a certain languor full of charms, a peculiar kind of sweet∣ness and tenderness in the tone of her voice, which affects the hearts of those to whom she speaks, and sings after the most passionate manner in the World; yet I may say, all this ought not to be mention'd, and that Melintha's vertue, wit, deportment, gene∣rosity, and prudence, ought to be oppos'd to all the other commendations she deserves. 'Tis not with∣out cause that I am impatient to speak of that sweet, insinuating, agreeable, and solid wit, which renders her capable of pleasing all sorts of persons, and which by its extent, capacity, and address, de∣serves to be interested in affairs of highest impor∣tance, which she is able to dispatch with prudence e∣qual to the secresie and probity of which she makes profession. Never was there a person more faith∣ful, more sincere, or more generous than she. And that which is admirable in this illustrious Woman, is, that, together with that sweet and complacent air she has, and a delicate constitution, she notwith∣standing has all imaginable greatness of heart, and is continually as active, as if the strength of her body equall'd that of her mind, especially when she finds occasion to do a civilty to any of her Friends, or only to some unfortunate person, of whose merit she is inform'd. She neglects even her own affairs for those of others; she is incapable of ever failing of her word; she expresses humanity towards all miserable persons, her heart is the tenderest in the World, she loves all that she ought to do, and knows how to love, both with choice and constancy. She affects ingenious things, and understands them; as Musick, Poetry, Peinture, and the like; and tho she is of a temper something inclin'd to Me∣lancholy, yet she inspires a pleasing joy into those who converse with her, and tho she seems not to intend it, suddenly wins the hearts of such as have the happiness to approach her. But not to suffer the tenderness her heart is capable of to be idle, and to afford her innocent objects worthy of it, the gods have given her an illustrious Husband, illu∣strious Brothers, illustrious Friends, and lovely Children. But, to her unhappiness, the valiant Belisantus was slain in the Wars, when fortune was ready to reward him for an infinite number of glori∣ous actions, which gain'd him an immortal renown, and render'd him worthy of the love of the vertu∣ous Melintha. In that illustrious Husband she found all that could be desir'd in a Man of ho∣nour: He was of a very Noble race as well as she; he had wit and courage; he was good and gene∣rous; he loved glory more than all things, and Melintha as much as glory. This generous Lady, hapned to be shut up in a besieged City, which her illustrious Husband defended with excellent valour and resolution, he endeavour'd to oblige her to go away out of it with her children; but she would never desert him, and, as long as the Siege lasted, afforded very great succour unto him. For during the few hours he took to rest in, she made it her care, that the orders of her dear Belisantus might be ex∣actly observ'd, and gave some her self, with as much judgement as a great Captain could have done

Being very well ascertain'd of her illustrious Hus∣band's conduct, she never offer'd to oppose his cou∣rage. So that after Belisantus had defended the place beyond all appearance of possibility, he could not resolve to capitulate, but prefer'd a glorious Death above a Treaty, which notwithstanding could not have been otherwise than very honourable. Ne∣vertheless, a sentiment of dearness for Melintha, o∣bliging him to desire her consent, he propounded to her not to yield at all; and since the City was to be abandoned to the enemies, to make a Sally forth with all the people he had left, and attempt by his valour to make his way with sword in hand, and beat the Enemies at the same time he yielded up the place. The wise Melintha well understood all the danger of this resolution, but perceiving the aversi∣on of Bellisantus to surrender, she couragiously con∣sented to what he desir'd, and accordingly he dis∣pos'd all things for that design. The Chariots of Melintha and her Children were made ready, and to shew the tranquillity of his mind in the sight of greatest dangers, he took care to cause several things to be put into them, which serv'd only for his plea∣sure. After which, being oblig'd to call a Council of War, the Officers so urgently represented to him the reasons which should oblige him to render him∣self without scruple, that at length he made a very glorious Capitulation: and thus the generous Be∣lisantus marcht out of the place, the gaining of which was less glorious to them that took it, than to him that deliver'd it up, after he had destroy'd a great Army before it, and defended it two months, tho it was thought unable to hold out two dayes, and had no other strength but the courage of him that defended it. But to let you further see, that the heart of Melintha was as tender as resolute, a∣mongst so many generous actions as she did, during that Siege, I must at last relate one to you. Her chil∣dren being in a House which was not far distant from the Walls of the City, it happened one day that the Enemies suddenly bethought themselves to place Engines upon a Tower, which they had e∣rected on that side. So that a great storm of stones was seen to be discharg'd in that place. which by the violence wherewith they were cast, overthrew all they fell upon, and slew such as were struck by them; Melintha was at that time at the house of one of her friends, on the other side of a large place, where that house stood, and seeing the fatal storm and horrible havock made by the Engines, both upon the house in which her Children were, and in the place which it behov'd her to cross to go to it, did not deliberate a moment, but being impell'd by the true tenderness of a generous mother, ran couragiously through the hail of Stones to fetch her children out of so dangerous a place, and that with so much ardour and haste, that she scarce made any reflection upon so great a danger, till she had escap'd it; having at that instant nothing else in her mind but to save the life of her Children, and preserve them for her dear Belisantus, whose love she will be eternally sensible of. Which indeed she has in some manner repair'd, by choosing for a very lovely Daughter of hers an illustrious Husband, whose rare valour and activity resembles that of the greatest Heroes, and who by an hundred gallant actions has made it apparent how great a Lover he is of Glory. Besides, Melintha having two Sons very goodly per∣sonages, and whose inclinations have appear'd ex∣treamly noble from their infancy, it is to be hop'd they will prove worthy to be Sons of their illustri∣ous Father. Melintha moreover has four Brothers, each of which in their way deserve, a thousand prai∣ses; she has also Friends, whose vertue is so great, that tho Fortune has been very liberal to them, yet they injoy much less than they deserve; and per∣haps some other occasion will be offer'd, wherein I may present you with a fuller description of all the persons I have mention'd. I beseech you (said Plo∣tina agreeably) since you have the colours and pen∣cils in your hand be pleas'd to draw the pourtraits at least of Melintha's virtuous Brothers. For my part (said Clelia) I desire onely to know one of her Friends. You ask too much for one day, (an∣swer'd Amiclea); for Melintha has a Friend whom I cannot tell you of without recounting the Histo∣ry of all Hetruria, because the rare vertues of him I speak of are, at this day, one of the strongest props of his Country. therefore I will expect some other occasion, to let you know that incomparable Man, whose vertue is above envy, and whose mo∣deration makes his vertue more eminent; and I will only tell you that Melintha is a Lady, who serves her Friends without interest, without vanity, and with all imaginable zeal. She conceals her self sometimes to do good offices; and I know a person whom she oblig'd after the noblest manner in the World, who durst not speak of the obligation he has to her, for fear of displeasing her, tho he is ex∣treamly desirous to testifie his acknowledgement of her generosity, by publishing it. In brief, Melintha is one of those Women, who are so rarely found, that no Age or Country reckons above two or three whose accomplishments equal hers. After this that you have spoken (said Herminius) I am her friend for all my life. For my part (said Valeria) I shall not repine if Aronces has more friendship for her than for me. And I (said Plotina) should ac∣count my self extream happy, if I could have an in∣terest in her Love. You have reason (said Clelia) since nothing is more desirable, than to have a friend of such worth; for 'tis not only an advantage to be lov'd by such, but the friendship of a person of great vertue reflects to the honour of those who possess it; you are a friend to almost all her friends, and after a manner enjoy her glory as your own, tho you merit not so much as she, and be far in∣feriour to Melintha. Clelia would have proceeded further, if the Princess of the Leontines had not re∣turn'd to her; but for that, as she enter'd into the Closet, she heard the name of Melintha, she could not refrain from demanding what the discourse was concerning the most vertuous Woman in the World. And understanding Amiclea had newly finisht her Character, she confirm'd all that was said of her with a thousand praises. This Princess being a very graceful Speaker, afforded much pleasure to the Company; but she discontented them at length, when she told them her stay would be shor∣ter at Rome than she imagin'd, and that matters were not in a posture to hope for an accommode∣ment. After which she continu'd there only four dayes; during which, Zenocrates durst not visit her constantly, because Clidamira might have been thereby induc'd to do some injury to that Princess. Which occasion'd this inconstant Professor, who seem'd then very sad and pensive, to be suspected of concealing a great Passion under his inconstancy.

During the four dayes the Princess of the Leontines stay'd at Rome, she us'd all endeavours she could to bring matters to an accommodation, but withal was solicitous to do some office for Aronces with Cle∣lia and Sulspicia; which she perform'd after so hand∣some a manner, that it could not have render'd her suspected to Porsenna, had he known what she spoke concerning the Prince his Son. But at length the fruit of this negotiation being only apparent in the admiration of the rare accomplishments of the Prin∣cess of the Leontines, she return'd without being a∣ble to obtain any thing on the behalf of Tarquin, but she went away with the esteem of all such as had seen her. At her departure from Rome, Clelia told her all that a person indu'd with Wit, Love and Modesty could say, to oblige her to perswade Aron∣ces continually, that he ought to be faithful to her: and the Princess of the Leontines on her part, ex∣press'd to her all that a faithful friend of Aronces ought to have said, to exhort her to constancy; af∣ter which they took leave: Clelia deliver'd a Let∣ter to Telanus, who brought her one; Artemidorus had a secret conversation with the Princess his Si∣ster, concerning their interests, which were not known to any but to Clidamira, Berelisa, and Ze∣nocrates. Telanus bid Plotina farewel with much dearness, and they parted so well, as to excite some jealousie in the breast of Amilcar. After the de∣parture of the Princess of the Leontines, prepara∣tions for War were expedited in good earnest; for it was judg'd, that as soon as she should be return'd, Porsenna would cause his Army to advance towards Rome. And indeed she was no sooner at Clusium, and had given an account of her Journey, but Tar∣quin fell earnestly to solicite Porsenna, and gave him no rest, who looking upon it as a great piece of glory to re-establish a dispossest King, omitted nothing, that might conduce to the good success of the War. Now did Aronces see himself brought into a condition, which of all things in the World he most fear'd, namely to be with his sword in hand against so many persons who were dear to him: but he had however the consolation to under∣stand a thousand things that pleas'd him from the mouth of the Princess of the Leontines. For she extolled Clelia with such exaggeration, and as∣sur'd him so confidently of his being lov'd by her, that he lov'd more than ever: At least, Ma∣dam, (said he to her) I have not mode an ill choice of the person to whom I have given my self, since you judge her worthy of your esteem; but do not you believe (added he) that if the King saw her, he would excuse my passion, and that I cannot be blam'd, but by those who have forgotten that themselves lov'd heretofore, or such as are so in∣sensible, as never to be capable of loving any thing? Then he spoke to her as concerning Horatius, and askt her, if she had seen him with Clelia; and tho he were not himself jealous, yet he could not but give several tokens of being so. But in brief, how amorous soever he were, it behov'd him to act like an enemy to Rome: Glory no doubt upheld his rea∣son in this occasion; but the interest of his Love was added to it, to perswade him at length, that since it behov'd him to appear an enemy of Rome, it ought to be after a manner which might render him redoubtable, and make him worthy the consi∣deration of either party. So he went to a Council of War, which was call'd before the marching of the Army, wherein it was resolv'd to make only a shew, as if they intended to beleaguer Rome, to see if it were possible to surprise it, and if they who affect∣ed Monarchy, were in a capacity to make an insur∣rection; but in case this did not succeed, as in proba∣bility it would not, it was determin'd to besiege that great City effectively, to seize of all the avenues, to make sure of Tyber both above and below Rome, and to bring to pass, that the great number of inhabitants that fill'd it, might serve to destroy instead of defen∣ding it, by causing a greater facility of taking it by famine. The business being thus resolv'd on, care was taken for a speedy march; but for that Porsenna judg'd there was no great likelihood of taking Rome by violence, and that for that reason the siege would probably be long, he was pleas'd the Queen his wife and the whole Court should follow him, and go to a very stately Castle, not far distant from the place where his Camp was to be, but a few miles distant from the Tomb of the three Rivals, where the un∣fortunate Caliantus was slain, and which part of Porsenna's Army had already seiz'd on. To which purpose Galerita, the Princess of the Leontines, the vertuous Melintha, and several Ladies of eminent quality of Clusium, prepar'd to follow the Army, which was gone before. Then it was that an equal desire was seen in either party of gaining Victory. One contriving to assault Rome, and the other to de∣fend it; sacrifices were offered to implore contrary successes; either of them believ'd they had justice on their side, and right to demand the Protection of the gods; but in the midst of so many opposite vowes, Clelia and Aronces no doubt wisht alwaies the same thing. Porsenna approaching near Rome, divided his Army into three bodies, out of a design to assault the City in three several places. The quarter on the side of Janicul. was that where Porsenna and Aronces were on; the second which was opposite to Tiber, was the entrenchment of Tarquin; and that on the side to∣wards Tarquinia was taken up by Sextus. At the first appearing of the forces, there were several little skir∣mishes between those whom Publicola sent to descry the enemies, and those who went to take up the places wherein to encamp. But there passed nothing very considerable in them; for Publicola having a design to suffer the enemies Army to weaken them∣selves before he attempted any thing, contented himself with knowing the true manner of their en∣trenchment, and keeping himself upon his guard. On the other side, Porsenna desiring to put the Ro∣mans out of fear, that so he might upon occasion more easily surprize them, made shew, as if his on∣ly intent was to starve the City. He set a guard upon that River, both above and below Rome, he seiz'd upon all the avenues, he caus'd Forts to be rais'd at several distances, to make good the passes more easily; for Rome was not a City fitting to be compass'd about with a Trench, as Tarquin had done at Ardea. In the mean time Aronces, to whom the care of causing those little Forts to be rais'd, was committed by Porsenna, suffer'd extream grief in be∣holding Rome as an enemy, and wisht that at least his Rival would come forth to interrupt the works he was causing to be made: that he might have occasion to see him with his sword in his hand. But for that the Romans had laid a contrary design, his desire could not then be satisfied. After Porsenna's Army was encamp'd without any considerable occurrences in making their approaches towards Rome, Ga∣lerita

the Princess of the Leontines, Melintha, and several other honorable Ladies, arriv'd at the Castle which was prepar'd for them; whither, be∣ing at no great distance from the camp, Porsenna, attended with many persons of quality, went to to receive them. The Queen of Hetruria had lately receiv'd two young Ladies for her attendants, of infinite beauty, who, whilst Porsenna was entertain∣ing Galerita, and the Princesse of the Leontines, under a great porch which belong'd to the Castle, pass'd over a little narrow bridge, which went from the Castle into the garden, and lay crosse the large di∣tches full of water. All the other Ladies continu'd in the porch, with several Officers that attended on the King, except two men, very handsome per∣sonages, who leaning over the portal where that bridge was, beheld those two fair Virgins, and spoke something to them. But that little bridge breaking on a sudden, the two fair persons fell into the water, and were indanger'd to be drown'd. As they fell, they parted several wayes, one towards the right hand, and the other towards the left; so that there was a considerable distance between them. They were no sooner fallen, but those two men who spoke to them, cast themselves into the water; but instead of separating themselves to succour them both, they leapt in on the same side, and thought only of saving one whom they held up by the robe, and so swim∣ming drew her to land; for the ditches were very deep. The other lookt for nothing but to be drowned, and had been so indeed, if the great noise had not ex∣cited the curiosity of several people to come and see what caus'd it. Upon which, divers persons perceiv∣ing this fair one ready to perish, the Captain of Por∣senna's guards leapt in with all speed, and saved her life. This accident troubled the whole Court, for these two virgins were generally very well esteem'd of. There also hapned a dispute upon it, between two famous Soothsayers, who were then with the Queen of Hetruria; for one of them affirm'd, the broken bridge was a bad omen; and the other on the contra∣ry maintain'd, that the bridges being broken upon the arrival of the King, was a very happy presage, and that for his part, he was perswaded if Rome were attaqued by force, the enterprise would succeed. But whilst these two Soothsayers were in this contest, the the two fair virgins were carried half dead into the same chamber, where care was taken for their reco∣very. The same evening the King return'd to the camp; but the next morning Aronces went to see the Queen his Mother, and the Princess of the Leontines. In the mean time the accident befallen the two fair virgins, was all the discourse of the Princesses and the Camp; every one wonder'd at the ill fortune of her who was ready to perish, and the happinesse of the other, who had two men to succour her, while her companion had none at all, though she were as fair and lovely as she. Tho Aronces had no purpose to stay long at the Castle, yet he could not refuse to accom∣pany the Princesse of the Leontines to the chamber of those two fair virgins, who were still indispos'd by their adventure of the preceding day. As they were going thither, they found the two men in a gallery, who had succour'd the same person, and left the o∣ther in danger of perishing. Whereupon the Princess of the Leontines not being able to refrain from testify∣ing to them her astonishment, I beseech you (said she to them) tell me why you did not separate your selves to succour both those fair virgins, since they did not both fall on the same side. Was it because you both love her whom you succour'd, or hated her whom you left to perish? Or rather was it because you were lov'd by the one and hated by the other? Your que∣stion Madam (answer'd he whose name was Aemyli∣us) is more difficult to be resolv'd than you ima∣gine. For my part (answer'd the other who was call'd Theanor) I should be more troubled to resolve it, than my companion; but which is the worst of all (added he) I dare not enter into the chamber of her whose life I endeavour'd to save, because she whom I abandon'd is there too. And I also (said Aemylius) should willingly go and desire pardon of her whom I left to perish, but for that I fear to find her whom I have serv'd alwaies unjust, I cannot re∣solve to do it. That which you say seems so intri∣cate (reply'd Aronces) that I am perswaded nothing but love can be the occasion of this perplexity. You have reason, my Lord (answer'd Theanor) and were we free both from hatred and love, we should be more happy than we are, and speak more intel∣ligibly. But because we are possessd with both these passions, we desire to be excus'd from making our selves further understood. The Princess of the Leon∣tines perceiving these two Lovers had no intention to tell her more of the matter, left them, and went into the chamber of the two fair sick persons, hop∣ing to draw a little more light from them, of what she desir'd to know. One of them was in bed, and the other stood by, undrest; for she who had been longest without succour, was more indispos'd than her companion. There was at that time in their chamber, onely Porsenna's Captain of the guard, who had followed Aronces, and sav'd the life of the fair Terentia, who was in bed, and seem'd to be more sad than sick. She who stood by, and whose name was Aurelisa, to testifie the greater respect, went to meet the Princesse of the Leontines, and Aronces; but tho she had reason to be cheerful enough for having escap'd so great a danger, yet there ap∣pear'd some discontent in her eyes. Upon which the Princesse observing Terentia's sadnesse, and Aurelisa's discontent, demanded of them the cause; For (said she obligingly) my intention in coming was to re∣joice with you; and, yet to judge of your thoughts by your looks, it seems the Prince and I ought to be afflicted, if we intend to partake of your senti∣ments. For my part (answer'd Terentia faintly) I do not look upon life as so great a Good, as to deserve much joy for not having lost it: however, I am very much oblig'd to Cereontus, whom you see there, for having preserv'd me, since his intention was to do me a very good office, to which he was not so much oblig'd as the other, who left me to perish. As for what concerns me (answer'd Aurelisa) it seemes I have been more happy than Terentia; but in reality, I am not of that opinion; for it is sometimes more unacceptable to be too much oblig'd, than too little. I assure you (reply'd the Princesse then, looking up∣on Aronces) I do not much better understand what Terentia and Aurelisa say, than what Aemilius and Theanor said to us, as we came hither. How? (said Terentia blushing) are Theanor and Aemilius here? Yes (answer'd Aronces) they are here, but tho they were desirous to follow me, yet they dar'd not enter into your chamber. No doubt, (added the Princesse of the Leontines) because they dare not see you, after having left you in danger of perishing. In truth (reply'd Aurelisa, changing colour as well as Terentia) I con∣ceive

they knew not what they did when they leapt into the water to save my life, and I am not certain but that they might take me for Terentia. As for me (said Cereontus then respectfully, as he was going away) my intention cannot be doubtful, and I very well understood I desir'd to succour you; but, least you should believe I look for praises for it, I shall retire. The more you speak, the lesse I understand, (answer'd the Princesse of the Leontines) yet it would by very fitting (said Amiclea who accompanied the Princesse) that you knew the truth of this adven∣ture, for fear some inconvenience happen upon it. You so well understand all the secrets of Aurelisa's, and my heart (answer'd Terentia), that it will be easie for you to satisfie the Princess; but, to speak truth, it were better to conceal our weakness than publish it: upon equitable consideration, I think there is no person amongst us but has their fault. Terentia spoke this with an air that augmented the Princess's curiosity, who understanding in effect, that there might be some occasion of quarrel between Theanor, Aemilius, and Cereontus told these two fair persons, she would not go forth of their chamber, till she knew exactly, all that was to be known of their adventures. I beseech you, Madam, (said Aurelisa then) do not give your self the trouble of hearing a hundred unprofitable trifles, which are glorious to no persons, and will but make you lose time which you might better employ. No, no, (said Amiclea then) the Princess can do nothing more de∣lightful to her self, than to hinder such worthy per∣sons as those that sav'd your lives, from quarrel∣ling, as I foresee they will do, if care be not taken to observe them, and suppress part of their resent∣ment. Terentia and Aurelisa understanding in effect, that a quarrel might easily arise between those three men, consented to the desire of the Princess and A∣ronces, who having two hours still to spend in that place, was not unwilling to employ them in hinder∣ing amorous persons from destroying one another; for he had heard it confusedly spoken, that Aemilius and Theanor lov'd Terentia and Aurelisa. Wherefore urging these two fair Ladies to consent that he should know their history, they did so, on condition that only the Princess of the Leontines and himself should know it, and that they two might not be pre∣sent at the relation, which they could not hear without extreme confusion. But who then shall tell us your adventures (said the Princess)? Amiclea answered Terentia, who knowes them as well as our selves, and who is so sincere, and so faithful, that I do not conceive she is suspected by Aurelisa, more than she is by me. You have reason (answer'd that fair Ladie) and I should more doubt my own memory, if I were to relate my adventure my self, than I do the sincerity of Amiclea. I am very glad you both know me (reply'd she); but withal, you ought to be assur'd that I will do nothing to render my self unworthy of the good opinion you have of me, and onely relate the pure and naked truth. After this, the Princesse of the Leontines went to her own Chamber, whil'st the Queen of Hetruria was in hers with the generous Melintha. As soon as the Princesse was there, she commanded, No person should be suffer'd to enter, and then oblig'd Amiclea to relate all that had befallen her two amiable friends; in obedience to which command she began her story in these terms:

The HISTORY of AVRELISA and TERENTIA.

I will not detain you, Madam, with telling you Aurelisa and Terentia are descended from very noble families, since you know it already; or that Theanor, Aemylius and Cereontus are persons of quality; for 'tis a thing you are not ignorant of. I shall omit to tell you that these five persons are indued with great merits, because you know them sufficiently to be so; neverthelesse, for that the Prince that hears me has not time to observe the humour of Aurelisa and Terentia, you must permit me to tell him that tho Terentia be brown and Aurelisa fair, one has black eyes, and the other blew, one be tall of stature and the other low, yet there is more difference in inclinations than in the out-side of their persons. Yet they have both very much wit; yea, they had for some time a considerable kindness for one another; but this has not hinder'd but that they have opposite sentiments, and in brief, can never a∣gree in any thing whatsoever, not even in such matters as are of least concernment. If they be onely to walk together, one of them will go in the shade, and the other sayes she do's not fear the Sun, and much affects those great open quarters in Gar∣dens which leave the sight free, and where the air is not confin'd. If one will have her Curtains drawn before her windows, the other maintains on the contrary that the clear day is advantageous to such as have a good complexion. In brief, they never had the same friends of either Sex in the very time they lov'd one another, and I may say I am the only exception to this general rule; 'Tis true, since 'tis a happiness I have to be oftentimes a friend to per∣sons who have no resemblance, and whose interests are many times contrary, this ought not to be won∣der'd at. But which is strange, these two persons, whose opinions are so different have yet so much reason that they never had any publick fallings out, and they have so well conceal'd their difference that I am almost the onely person that have had any knowledge of them. In the next place, Madam, you must know, that these two persons having both almost in the same time lost their Fathers and Mothers, they were plac'd under the Guardianship of a man of quality, call'd Tolumnius, whose wife was Aurelisa's Aunt. As for Terentia she was Cous∣in to Tolumnius, who had two Nephews, not Bro∣thers, to whom he intended to marry these two Virgins who have sufficient fortunes. In order to which, he educated them under his wife, whose name was Elinyssa, tho he conceal'd his determin∣ation; however, he so expresly commanded Aemyli∣us and Theanor, (who obey'd him as if he had been their Father) to insinuate themselves into the a∣ffection of these two persons, that they began to make Courtship to them, more out of obedience than choice, and consequently without Love towards them, or jealousie between themselves; for they had other things which affected their hearts. On the other side Aurelisa and Terentia having been adver∣tis'd by one of their relations, that they were to pre∣pare themselves to marry Aemylius and Theanor one day, lookt upon them as two men who in time might come to be their husbands. But as they could never love the same things, so they made different desires; for Terentia wish'd she might be lov'd by Aemylius, and

Aurelisa that she might be so by Theanor. Never∣theless, these wishes were conceal'd from all the World, and they never spoke of them but when they were alone. Nor did they then think that they spoke very seriously. For my part (said Aurelisa one day) I shall never resolve to become wife to Aemilius: not but that I see he is a person of much honour, but he is not such as I would have a Lover or a Hus∣band: but the case is otherwise in relation to Thea∣nor. As for my particular (added Terentia) I can∣not think of marrying Theanor, tho he be a per∣son of worth; but for Aemilius, I could easily re∣solve to do it. What? (said Aurelisa) would you be the wife of such an inconstant person as Aemylius, who has had a hundred Mistresses in his life. I would not marry him inconstant, (answer'd Terentia) but I should like well e∣nough to cure him of his inconstancy, and should not be loth to marry him when I had render'd him faithful. But can you your self (added Terentia) resolve to love and to marry Theanor, who you know loves a certain woman ever since he came to the use of reason, who makes a profession of being the most constant person in the World, and yet when he has marri'd you, will not cease to love his former Mistress? No, no, Terentia, (repli'd Aurelisa) I do not understand it so; but, to speak freely, I should take as much pleasure to render Theanor unfaithful to her that he loves, as you would have, in rendring Aemilius constant. Our two wishes are very different (answer'd Te∣rentia) for I desire to remove a defect from Emyli∣us, and you would confer one on Theanor. In truth (repli'd Aurelisa) I think we do not yet very well know what we would have; but the best I see for us, is, that in all probabilities we shall never desire the same things, and so having different pretensi∣ons, we shall alwaies live in peace, tho our inclina∣tions be contrary. However from that day Aurelisa and Terentia found arising in their hearts a kind of particular esteem for those two men, which had scarce any other apparent cause than the desire of contradicting one another. For, because Aurelisa e∣steem'd Emylius less than Theanor, therefore Terentia lov'd Theanor less than Aemilius; and for the same reason, Aurelisa knowing Terentia preferr'd Aemilius before Theanor, she gave the preheminence to Thea∣nor to the prejudice of Aemilius. Nevertheless, they so well conceal'd their sentiments, that they were taken notice of by no person whatsoever. But whil'st they contested thus, Aemilius and Thea∣nor who were friends, and mutually communicated most part of their sentiments, beheld these two Vir∣gins as most men do those whom they think they ought to marry, that is with an affection without ardour, and little better than ordinary civility; nor did they so much as inquire how their Uncle intend∣ed their marriages should be made; for Aemilius having at that time three or four Mistresses, and Theanor one who absolutely took up his heart, they onely consider'd that they whom they were to mar∣ry would be rich, without troubling themselves fur∣ther, except that they told their Mistresses, A wise man ought to marry only for his familie's sake, and to love onely for his own. They endeavour'd also to perswade them, that a marriage was not a real in∣fidelity; and they were happy enough to be be∣liev'd; for the inconstant Aemilius lov'd none but Gossips, and the constant Theanor loving a woman which could not be his, he perswaded her the more easily to what he desir'd. Things being in this po∣sture, I contracted an intimate friendship with these two young Beauties, and I hapned one day to be at Elinyssa's house with whom they dwelt, when Theanor and Aemilius came thither with two Ladies of no discommendable beauty. So that this conversati∣on being wholly compos'd of young persons (for Elinyssa was gone out of it about some affairs) it suddenly became very agreeable and gallant. 'This hapned so much the more easily, for that one of the Ladies who came with Theanor and Aemilius, and whose name was Cleoncia, being much addicted to make sport with her best friends, and to do it sometimes a little too pressingly; cunningly brought it in, to speak of unfaithful and constant Love, intending to give some light gird to those that were with her. She ask'd the other Ladies what they would do if they were necessitated to chuse a husband of two men, whereof one had a hundred Mistresses, and the other but one, whom he loved ardently. For my part, said one of the La∣dies, I would have neither of both; for certainly 'tis no great pleasure to be wife to one of those pro∣fess'd Weather-Cocks, who because they converse with none but Gossips, slight their Wives, and every day do a hundred things very displeasing to be seen; and 'tis yet less to be Wife of a Man who every mo∣ment is ready to sacrifice all his family to the per∣son whom he loves, whose thoughts are wholly tak∣en up with her, who never stirs from her, who is weary of all other places, who is prodigal in what concerns his love, and covetous in all other respects, and who will not have any thing that he do's, seen; or when it is observ'd, will not allow it to be com∣plain'd of. And which is strange, both that hus∣band who lends out his heart to whomsoever will have it, and he that gives his intirely to one person, do nevertheless require their Wives should keep a more exact fidelity to them, than any others. But since I may be mistaken (added she) I would know Aurelisa's opinion upon this case. Terentia then lookt upon Aurelisa, calling to mind what they had talk't of together some daies before; whereupon, (per∣ceiving it was believed, she was going to declare her true sentiments, and consequently to deter∣mine, that she lik'd a Husband better that had one constant Love, than one that had many) on a sud∣den to have the pleasure of deceiving her friend, she disguis'd her sentiments, and took the contrary side, with intention to anticipate all that she de∣sir'd to say. For my part, (said she, smiling) I see no ground there is to doubt; for 'tis better, no questi∣on, to be Wife of an unconstant Husband, provid∣ed he carry his business discreetly, than to be a Wife to a constant Lover, who perplexes his Wife with continual capricious. For inconstant Lovers, are almost generally of a good humour, whereas, on the contrary, Lovers scrupulously faithful, are for the most part fullen natur'd. Terentia observing Au∣relisa's subtlety, could not restrain her self from con∣tradicting her, tho in reality she contradicted her self. There is some wit in what you say, (said Te∣rentia) but yet it is certain, that it were incompara∣bly better, to be the Wife of a man who has a great passion, than of one of those that are inconstant to a thousand Loves, of whom every day a hundred stories are told, which divert the whole Court, and perplex his Wife in all companies, since she can

scarce go into any place without finding some Mi∣stress of her Husband's with whom she is at a loss how to comport her self: but it is not so with a Hus∣band that has but one Love; for provided you keep but some measure of civility to his Mistress, if he be ingenuous he will thank you for it, and if he does not love you, yet at least he will esteem you. While these two Virgins maintain'd the side they under∣took, which is sufficient weakness, because it did not agree with their real sentiments, Theanor and Ae∣milius, to whom this conversation was unpleasing, by reason of their being concern'd in it, believ'd that these two fair persons thought what they spoke, and thereupon Theanor was incens'd against Aurelisa, and Aemilius against Terentia. And either of them desiring to make good their side, produc'd all the reasons for it they couldinvent. For my part, (said Aemilius) I see not how the thing can be doubted; for I conceive no∣thing is more troublesome to a Wife, than one of those Husbands with a great passion, & nothing more convenient than one that is a Gallant. For he is scarce ever at home, some Feast alwaies takes him up; and, as he is unwilling to be constrain'd, so he gives the same liberty which he desires to take. On the contrary, a Husband of the other sort, is insupportable; for out of cross intention, that he may have something to blame in the deportment of his Wife, to the end that may excuse his own, he has continually his Spies to observe her. But however, (interrupt∣ed Theanor) the Husband you represent so, loves some person, and so his Wife has some ground to hope, if he can cease to love his Mistress, her self may at length get into his affection. But what can be hop'd from an inconstant person, who is never capable of loving any thing? If he do not love his Mistresses (said Aemilius) why should his Wife take it ill? But if the Husband who has a con∣stant Love, (answer'd Theanor) does not cease to use his Wife civilly, what reason has she to com∣plain? since you do not believe it necessary to her happiness, that she be lov'd. For my part, (said Aurelisa, contrary to her own sentiments again, be∣cause she had begun so) I am against Theanor: And I (added Terentia) against Aemilius. In my appre∣hension, (said I then) you are not against any bo∣dy; for to speak sincerely, you do not well know what you would do, if both of you had Husbands, which did not love you. It is not material for what reason you are not lov'd; since in what manner so∣ever the matter is, it is alwaies troublesome. How∣ever, whether you be lov'd or hated, you ought for Virtue's and your own sake, to be as faithful to a Husband that does not love you, as to one that does; for it is not fitting ever to revenge your selves to his prejudice; nor to offend by example. No doubt Terentia and Aurelisa thought the same thing that I spoke; for they are both very discreet; but they were in a manner not to agree to it, to the end they might have occasion to contest. Nevertheless, seemli∣liness restrain'd them, and so the conversation ended; after which, Theanor went away with a secret indignation against Aurelisa, and Aemilius against Terentia, tho in truth Aemilius was oblig'd to love Terentia, and Theanor Aurelisa. When they were return'd home, (for they lodg'd toge∣ther) they fell to speak concerning these two Ladies, and resolved between themselves, that if their Uncle should oblige them to marry them, Theanor should marry Terentia, and Aemilius Aureli∣sa. In the mean time, these two fair Virgins be∣ing retir'd, Terentia ask'd Aurelisa why she would not speak her mind really? 'Twas to hinder you from speaking yours, (answer'd she, smiling) for I conceiv'd you would not be of my opinion. But by obliging me not to speak what I thought, (reply'd Terentia) you did not speak your own thoughts, 'Tis true, (said she) but do not you know, that sometimes the mischief you do others, com∣pensates us for part of that we do ourselves? You may judge, Madam, by what I say, in what condition things then stood. But how weak soever this begin∣ning of aversion was which Aemilius had against Terentia, and Theanor against Aurelisa; and how slight soever an inclination Terentia had for Aemilius, and Aurelisa for Theanor, these first impressions were the true cause of all that have befallen them since. For Theanor after having had so long and constant affecti∣on in his Soul, was insensibly cur'd of that Love by another, and had a great dearness for Terentia, alwaies remembring the sentiments he had observ'd in her mind, at the time of that contest, at which I was pre∣sent. About the same time too, Aemilius being wea∣ry of the turmoil, occasion'd by the necessity of en∣tertaining several gallantries together, accustom'd himself to take more pleasure than usually in the company of Aurelisa; and thus these two friends by degrees became very amorous of the two fair Vir∣gins. But by a strange crossness of Fate, the first in∣clination of these two persons continuing, and be∣ing not alwaies able to restrain themselves from bearing envy one towards another, Terentia could not endure Theanor, and wisht so ardently Aemilius would love her in stead of him, that she seem'd to love him already. Aurelisa on the other side, accounting Ae∣milius insupportable, desir'd Theanor would please himself less with the company of Terentia, and more with hers. Not but that these four persons were every day together; but it is often seen, that tho persons be in the same place, their hearts are far distant from those in whose presence they are. However they all conceal'd their sentiments, and not know∣ing preciseely in what manner he on whom they de∣pended, would dispose of them, they expected till he declar'd his mind, every one of them desiring in their hearts, his pleasure might not check their re∣spective inclinations. But it was in a short time per∣ceiv'd, that some change hapned in the minds of Ae∣milius and Theanor; for the ancient Mistress of this latter, being possess'd with extreme jealousie, ut∣ter'd several expressions, which intimated that Thea∣nor could not but have an other Love. All the Mi∣stresses of Aemilius did the like, and within a very few daies it was generally talkt of, that Theanor was became unfaithful, and Aemilius constant. It was also added, that the cause of the constancy of one, and of the infidelity of the other, must needs be in E∣lynissa's house; but however, it could not be conje∣ctur'd, whether it were Aurelisa that Aemilius lov'd, or whether it were Terentia that had cur'd Theanor of his first passion: for these two Lovers not knowing the intention of their Uncle, durst not declare themselvs, and liv'd in partial civility towards these two Ladies, for whom they had notwithstanding very different sentiments, and by whom likewise they were lookt upon after a very different manner. I being then their intimate friend, inform'd them of the rumour that was reported concerning the constancy of Aemilius, and the unfaithfulness of Theanor, and ask't them for

whose sake Theanor was become unfaithful, and Ae∣milius constant. For it is not doubted, (added I) but 'tis for the sake of you two, that these Lovers have chang'd inclinations. For my part, (answer'd Terentia suddenly, and blushing) I know not whether Theanor loves me, but I know well Aemilius does not. I am very well assur'd, (said Aurelisa,) Theanor is not faithful for my sake; and as for Aemilius, I care so little for knowing wherefore he ceas'd to be in∣constant, that I have not at all taken notice of it. Yet I wonder, (added Terentia) you have not ob∣serv'd, that he takes more pleasure in speaking to you, than to me. I assure you I have taken notice of it, (answer'd she), but I have observ'd upon di∣vers occasions, that Theanor uses all his address to a∣void discourse with me, and seeks to place himself near you, as often as he can, without doing me inci∣vility. If it be (so repli'd Terentia coldly) I have rea∣son to complain and pity my self, and I wish Aemili∣us be more happy than he. If he have any such in∣tention towards me as you speak of, (answer'd Au∣relisa) he will not be more happy than his friend nor I than you. In truth (said I to them then) I see not, however the business be, how either of you can be unhappy; for Theanor and Aemilius are both such deserving persons, that you cannot make a bad choice of either of them. They were going to an∣swer, but these two Lovers enter'd, who, to con∣firm what they had spoken of, handsomely sought to place themselves according to their inclinations. Aemilius approacht near to Aurelisa, and Theanor to Terentia, At which both of them blusht; which the Lovers observing, interpreted to their own ad∣vantage, (as persons, in their condition, use to take all occasions of flattering themselves) tho in truth it was to their prejudice. For Terentia blusht out of spight, to see that Aemilius prefer'd Aurelisa before her self, and Aurelisa out of anger, to observe that Theanor neglected her in respect of her friend. How∣ever, being both intelligent, they suppressed their sentiments, and the conversation was nevertheless sufficiently agreeable at the beginning. For com∣ming to speak of gallantry, the question was put, whether that love were greater that could not con∣tain from declaring her self, or that which was con∣ceal'd out of respect. Terentia being in a great fear lest Theanor should tell her he lov'd her, and more, lest Aemilius should declare his mind to Aurelisa, made haste to answer that there was no cause of doubt, and that there was more love in not telling that one loves, when respect alone causes the Lover's silence, than in going to tell it with precipitancy. Aurelisa now found her self a little perplext; for she lov'd not to be of Terentia's opinion, and was as un∣willing to take upon her to maintain, that it was fit to declare one's love, for fear of encouraging Aemili∣us to tell her something that might not please her. Therefore she chose rather to say nothing of her self, but asked me, What I thought of the case? For my part who had no interest in it, I spoke sincerely what I thought of the matter, and indeavour'd to main∣tain, that a Lover who could restrain himself from de∣claring that he lov'd, had a less passion than he who in spight of the respect he bore to his Mistress, and in spight of his own reason, was enforc'd to profess that he was in love. Aemilius was of my opinion, and Theanor intending his silence should be a declaration of his love to Terentia, maintain'd the contrary, and was of her opinion: So that this dispute lasted for a good time. For my part, (said I) I confess to you, I fear people who are not able to contain from say∣ing they love, have nothing in their hearts which torments them very much; and there is no surer token of a luke warm affection, than the long si∣lence of a Lover. For, is not complaint an infalli∣ble sign of great sorrowes? little diseases are easily past over in silence, but the wisest complain of such as are great, and all the Philosophy of the most insensible persons, can scarce ever keep from crying out when they suffer very much. So that as, no doubt, it cannot be prov'd that silence is a sign of great pain in the body, no more can it be made out to be an evidence of great grief of mind. But, do you make no difference (said Theanor) between a great love and a great pain? No, (answer'd I); for, besides that I am perswaded there is no love without inquietude, which is a kind of pain, I am so also, that a Lover who has not declar'd his passi∣on, has so vehement a desire to tell it, that he suffers one of the greatest torments in the world. You have reason, Amiclea (said Aemilius to me) and I can answer you, that for certain it is the greatest misery that can be imagin'd. 'Tis no doubt a great trouble (repli'd Theanor) but for that reason it is a great sign of love; for is there any thing more ob∣liging to a Lady, than to make her know, that the fear of displeasing her, and the respect you have for her, obliges you to be silent, and to suffer without complaining? and besides (added he) to speak equi∣tably, was a Lover ever believ'd upon his word? and if he does no more than say, I love you, would any Lady in the world believe him? And if so, the best way or course to prove one's love, is by a thousand cares, and a thousand services, sighs, glances, and a thousand other wayes more effectual than words, without offending a fair person, who will not have the respect due to her, lost. Believe me (said I then to Theanor) the sighes, glances, cares and services you speak of, may be compar'd to metal, (of which not long since money has been made at Rome) whose value is redoubled by the Prince's stamp. For all that is done for a fair person before a man discovers himself to be a Lover, is lookt upon but as testimonies of esteem and friendship at most, and, till after such declarations, she does not look upon the services render'd to her, as testimonies of love. What you say, is, no doubt, very well spoken (said I to him) but it must be added, that when people are forbid∣den to speak, 'tis taken for no great offence if they break that prohibition, in case they be esteem'd, and they knew how to do it handsomely. But, Ami∣clea (answer'd Terentia) I think you have lost your reason, in accusing women of such a defect as this; For, I conceive, a deserving person can never be more oblig'd than when she sees her displeasure is dreaded, and that she is fear'd and respected. 'Tis true (repli'd I) but if a Lover do not profess himself to be such, how will he ever be lov'd? I know not whether he will be lov'd or no (answer'd Terentia) but I know well, that a Lover who should tell me rudely that he lov'd me, should be hated. When Amiclea (repli'd Aemilius) maintains it fit for a lover to declare his passion, she does not mean he should do it after an unhandsome manner. As I was going to answer, the Lady which Theanor had lov'd so long, arriv'd with two others; her name was Menesile, and it is not to be doubted, but she is a very confident person, and passionate. This visit very

much surpriz'd the company; for she did not use to visit Elynissa. But jealousie exciting a desire in her to see what pass'd in this cabal, she caus'd her self to be introduc'd by one of Tolumnius's friends. Ne∣vertheless Theanor the better to make known his love to Terentia, continu'd with her, tho he did not speak to her apart, for should he have desir'd it, she would not have given him occasion. When Aure∣lisa beheld this Lady enter, she well understood that a sentiment of jealousie induc'd her to make this vi∣sit; so that perceiving she still lov'd Theanor, this redoubled the inclination she had for him, as well as the envy she bore to Terentia; for she was extremely sorry that she was not the person to whom he prov'd unfaithful. A quarter of an hour after, three of Ae∣milius's ancient Mistresses arriv'd; but he saluted them so coldly, and lookt upon them so little, that it could scarce be thought he had ever seen them be∣fore. Whereupon Terentia observing that this un∣faithful person was become constant, was extream∣ly perplexed it was not for her sake that he despis'd all his former Mistresses. And so she became as me∣lancholick as Aurelisa. However, civility obliging them to entertain those that came to visit them, they fell to discourse of several things; after which the conversation being chang'd on a sudden, they inveighed very much against men in general. It was affirm'd that they were very frequently unjust, vindicative, inconstant, insensible, and given to de∣traction. Theanor and Aemilius then maintain'd the cause of their own sex, defended themselves the best they could. But at length, I know not how it came to pass, but one of the new-come Ladies, who did not love Menesile, askt me if I believ'd that a woman whom a man ceas'd to love, ought to be more offend∣ed than another, who could not gain the affection of a man she lov'd. This proposition made Menesile, Te∣rentia, and Aurelisa blush, which nevertheless was ob∣serv'd only by my self. Menesile recollecting her self in a moment, had confidence enough to make good her own cause. 'Tis so easie to answer to what you de∣mand (said she) that tho many persons be present here, who have more wit than my self, I think I shall have enough to convince you, that 'tis greater shame not to be able to makes one's self be lov'd, than to be abandon'd. For the shame reflects upon the desertor, and not on her that is forsaken. I know not whose the shame is (repli'd I) but I believe the anger is on her side that is relinquisht, if she persists to love. I believe (said Menesile) the cause of the anger is for having been deceiv'd; but however, a person that cannot make her self be lov'd, is not only angry, but ashamed of her own weakness: and whereas a woman that has been lov'd, and is so no longer, is possessed onely with despight, hatred, and contempt of her Renegade; she that loves without being lov'd, comes at length, when she has any heart, to hate and despise her self; which, no doubt is the cruellest thing in the world. While Menesile was speaking thus, Terentia, Aurelisa, and Theanor, were extremely perplext, being inforc'd to hear an un∣pleasing discourse, without answering to it. I ob∣serving their trouble (answer'd Menesile) and desiring to make a third party, In truth (said I to her) whe∣ther a woman loves without being lov'd, or whe∣ther her Lover forsakes her, she is worthy of pity if she be vertuous; for as for such as are not, they ought never to be pitied. But I would know fur∣ther (said she who made this proposition) who suffers most of the two. She that loves most (an∣swer'd Terentia). That is likely (repli'd a Lady of the company) to be the forsaken Lady; for I cannot understand that he that is not lov'd, can love very ardently. For my part (said another) I do not con∣ceive a woman can love, if her affection be not an∣swer'd when she gives some Testimony of it; but I do not believe it impossible but a vertuous person may have a secret and hidden inclination which may lead her to love rather one man than another; tho without testifying any thing of it. If it be so (answer'd Menesile) I believe really she that is forsa∣ken suffers more than she that is not lov'd; but if she believes that her eyes have betray'd the secret of her heart, and that he that she loves understands her affection without answering to it, I conceive she undergoes the torment of a shame of greater pain to her, than the blackest infidelity can cause. For in this case the remedy is at hand by scorning him from whom the injury is receiv'd. Whil'st Menesile was speaking thus, Aemilius talk't low to Aurelisa, who at that in∣stant lik't rather to hear him, than to be oblig'd to answer Menesile. You are very melancholick to day, Madam, (said he to her) altho I do not complain of your silence; for it being a kind of consent, I presume you agree that Amilcar had reason to say: There is greater love in not being able to contain from dis∣covering that passion, than in being silent out of respect; and therefore to avoid giving you leisure to change your sentiments, it is best for me to tell you in the most respectful manner possible, that of the most inconstant of all men you will make the most faithful Lover in the World, provided you will please to fasten the Knots which tye me to your ser∣vice. I beseech you, Aemilius, (answer'd Aurelisa much astonish'd) do not force me to speak more rude∣ly to you than I would: you know I have respect for Tolumnius, and that I should be extream sorry to dis∣please him. However if you accustome your self to speak to me as you do, it shall be hard but I will find out wayes to deliver me from your importunity. Au∣relisa spoke this with a certain severe aspect, which sensibly afflicted Aemilius; but in stead of being re∣pell'd by it, he became more amorous; for he was one of those to whom the difficulties of things encreases the desire of possessing them. Wherefore he spoke a∣gain to Aurelisa to the same purpose, but so respect∣fully, that she had no pretext to be offended with him. On the other side Theanor observing all Menesile's dis∣course was only to despight him, design'd to take ad∣vantage of her anger: so that when all the company was gone, he continu'd last, and approaching to Teren∣tia who was musing by a window, If you remember, Madam (said he to her with a low voice) all that you have heard spoken indirectly against me, remember also at the same time, that I have suffer'd it for your sake; and that if I had not an infinite respect for you, I should tell you, that did I not love you, I should not be unfaithful. I assure you (answer'd she) I will alwaies remember the quality you give your self, to the end I may not be endanger'd to love you more than I do; for in brief a man that can forsake one woman for ano∣ther when he is lov'd by her, may prove unfaithful to all that shall put confidence in him. After this, going aside to Aurelisa, Theanor was constrain'd to go away without saying more to her. The rest of the even∣ing Terentia and Aurelisa were sufficiently melancho∣lick, they undrest themselves almost without speak∣ing to one another, tho they lay in the same Chamber,

and it was not till the next morning that they spoke any thing. When, after they were drest, according to their custome, they went into a little Closet not far from their Chamber, expecting the hour to go to the Temple. As soon as they were there, Aurelisa (who naturally was more debonair than Terentia) ask't her with a something forc'd smile, whence it came to pass she was so pensive that day; For (said she) they ought not to be melancholick who have gain'd a vi∣ctory. You ought then to be more frolick than you are (answer'd Terentia) for you have triumph'd more gloriously than I. If you will change your victory (reply'd Aurelisa) I am content. I assure you, it shall not be my fault (answer'd Terentia): not that I absolutely agree to what I perceive you think; but I answer to your words rather than to the truth of the business you set upon me for. But I shall alwaies draw this advantage from what you have said, that I see Aemilius has mention'd his love to you, and I did not convince him yesterday. I acknowledge it (repli'd Aurelisa, knowing it would afflict Terentia): but now confess to me whether Theanor did not make you know he loves you; and that as I have made a faithful Lover of an unconstant one, you have made a man unfaithful who was reputed the most constant in the World. Your sincerity requiring the like from me (answer'd Terentia) I confess to you, Thea∣nor made me understand he loves me. Ah! Teren∣tia (said Aurelisa) why have you not made Aemilius your Lover? Ah! Aurelisa (say'd Terentia) where∣fore have you not gain'd the heart of Theanor, which I know not what to do with? The misery is (added she) that I perceive 'tis Tolumnius's absolute pleasure we should marry his Nephews; and that, according as your heart and mine are dispos'd, we shall be alwaies unhappy. For I tell you again, I shall never be able to live with Aemilius, tho he is a person of merit. I say the same of Theanor (an∣swer'd Terentia). After this, the like unhappiness u∣niting the hearts of these two Virgins, they promis'd much friendship and fidelity one to another. But, in order to seek some remedy to their hard fortunes, Terentia promis'd Aurelisa alwaies to treat Theanor ill, and never to marry him, what command soever To∣lumnius should lay upon her to that purpose, whom she obeyed as her own father. And Aurelisa like∣wise promis'd on her part, never to speak any thing favourable to Aemilius, nor marry him, whatever command should be lay'd upon her to it; they pro∣mis'd also to relate sincerely all that those two Lov∣ers should say to them. But alass! (said Terentia) all our providence will perhaps be unprofitable to hinder us from being unhappy; for it is in our pow∣er not to marry those we do not love, but if it should be propounded to us to marry those we do not hate, perhaps we shall not be able to refuse them, tho they do not love us; and 'tis possible Theanor and Aemi∣lius will have the weakness to obey Tolumnius out of a regard to their interest. However, I confess to you, I should think my self as unhappy to marry a man who should not love me, and I should affect, as to marry one whom I had no affection for, and lov'd me. You have reason (answer'd Aurelisa). But since hope is not to be dis∣claim'd to the last, we ought to hope that being united as we are at present, it may fall out that we may change our destiny; Aemilius may come to love you, and Theanor not to hate me. After this they made a thousand caresses to one another, and express'd a thousand blandishments. At the end of this conversation they went to the Temple, where their two Lovers were, who confirm'd by their looks what they had spoken the day before. At their return from the Temple, they were told, one of her Friends, delited they would go in the even∣ing into the Gardens of the Palace, whither, as you know, Madam, the whole Court resorts very fre∣quently in fair weather. Accordingly they went thither with a Kinswoman of theirs, imagining their Friend would take the pleasure to walk with them; but they found it was to hear musick-enter∣tainment which Theanor and Aemilius had prepar'd for them, and that she in whose name they were requested to come, knew nothing of this gallan∣try; which, instead of exciting joy in them for whom it was intended, afforded them but regret and discontent. Some daies after, these Lovers gave a magnificent Collation to the same per∣sons, in that delightful Grove which is call'd the Grove of the Spring, because the verdure appears there sooner than any other where, and all the World resorts to walk there in that season: and to make their love more taken notice of, one evening they gave a Ball under a magnificent Tent in the middle of that Meadow, which is call'd the Meadow of Flora, because indeed it is alwaies cover'd over with flowers. Terentia and Aurelisa were at a des∣perate loss with these contrivances of their two Lovers to please them; but yet it behov'd to be pre∣sent at all their entertainments for fear of displeas∣ing Tolumnius and Elinyssa. Not long after, they were joyful to understand that Tolumnius had resolv'd to go and spend some time in the Countrey at a ve∣ry fair house of his near Clusium. They understood also that I was to be of the company; and according∣ly I departed two daies after with them; upon which occasion, as friendship is more speedily contracted during a little journey into the Countrey than in the City, they were pleas'd to make me privy to the fear they were in, lest Tolumnius should determine to marry them after a manner contrary to their own inclinations; and, in brief, they told me all the principal secrets they had in their breasts. I con∣fess to you they caus'd me to pity them, and finding an occasion to intermeddle with love in∣nocently, I promis'd to do all I could to change the hearts of their two Lovers, who were both my familiar friends. During our Countrey-journey, there was nothing but continual feasting; but these two Virgins desiring me not to desert them at all, that so their Lovers might not have the liberty to speak to them apart, I did it indeed so handsomely, without Aemilius and Theanor's ever suspecting my design to hinder them from discoursing to them, that they could not say any thing to them concerning their passion. I did not con∣tent my self with doing this office to these two Virgins, I spoke severally to both their Lovers, in order to perswade them into sentiments con∣trary to their own. For speaking to Aemilius I extol'd Terentia with exaggeration, and did the like for Aurelisa speaking to Theanor. But, to speak truth, I did not observe they commend∣ed them with the same ardour. On the contra∣ry when I spoke of Aurelisa to Theanor he spoke to me of Terentia; and as soon as I nam'd Teren∣tia to Aemilius, he mention'd Aurelisa to me. In the mean time these two Lovers were so solicitous to

get themselves lov'd, that they did not perceive they were lov'd by those whom they did not affect. 'Tis true, Terentia and Aurelisa being both discreet and vertuous, they conceal'd their sentiments the best they could, and did not cease to seem pleasant, to be sociable, and shew an equal civility to those for whom they had very differing sentiments. That which render'd them the more unhappy, was, that tho Theanor were in love with Terentia, yet he did not cease to live much in favour with Aurelisa; and tho Aemylius lov'd Aurelisa, yet he was much complacential towards Terentia. Now it falling out that these two Lovers had Affairs at Court, they made but little journeys on a day. They made very urgent requests to Aurelisa and Terentia that they would permit them to write to them, but they would not grant it. Yet I, who lov'd news well when I was in the Countrey, desir'd one of my friends who was one of theirs too, to send me not only what he knew at Clusium, but likewise all intelligence he should receive from any other place, for he was one that had correspondence through∣out all Italy. Not that I car'd much what pass'd in places where I knew no person, but Tolumnius loving to know all that was acted all the World over, I was willing to divert him during my residing at his house. And accordingly, that Friend of mine several times sent me very ample relations of all that pass'd at Court, with the extracts of Letters which he receiv'd from Rome, Veii, Tarentum, Cuma, Vol∣aterra, Panormus, Capua, and divers other places. So that this affording divertisement to Tolumnius, and the news of the World giving sufficient pleasure to Terentia, Aurelisa, and my self, we awaited with much impatience the day that we were to receive Letters. One night we went to walk, expecting their arrival, and thinking to have them a moment sooner. And as we were between two Meadows border'd about with Willows, we saw him arrive who was wont to bring my Packets, and who now deliver'd me several. Amongst the rest, I beheld one which I did not know, so that the desire of knowing who writ it, caus'd me to open it first; which done, I found it was a relation divided into distinct Ar∣ticles like those I was wont to receive, tho I did not know the Character of it. Terentia and Aurelisa observing my astonishment, approch't toward me; and all three of us sitting down at the foot of a Tree, I began to read the relation which was in e∣ffect the same I am going to repeat to you; for I know I shall not alter the sense; however, I may something change the words.

Of the Court.

Persons envious, discontented, and ungratefull are al∣wayes to be found here; they to whom any thing is given, believe they deserve more; they to whom nothing is given, think that rob'd from them which is given to others; in the mean time all the World is oftentimes in a burly burly without knowing wherefore. There are found there ambi∣tions persons without merit, flatterers ill rewarded, false friends resembling true, an out side of goodnesse which charms new-comers, and yet do's not deceive them who have experience; in brief, imposture and fraud is seen every where, and handsome deportment without honesty. As for love, there is little can be call'd so; altho sometimes certain frivolous loves are to be seen there, which are fit only for young idle persons that know not what to do, and many times too know not what to say. Loves of in∣terests are seen there likewise, which inspire onely unwor∣thy actions, and there is scarce ever any sincere love to be found unlesse it be in the breasts of Theanor and Aemylius, whose hearts they say are in the Countrey, tho their persons are seen every day at the Queen's Palace, where thy appear so melancholy that all the Ladies com∣plain of them.

Of CLUSIUM.

All the envious Fair ones rejoice here, for the absence of the two fairest persons in the World; yet they do not draw much advantage by it: for all worthy persons are so afflicted with it, that all their conversations are turn'd into sadnesse. There are some who affirm two of their Loves are in danger to die of sorrow if they do not spee∣dily return, tho it be not the custom to die for the ab∣sence of a rigorous Mistresse; Otherwise, Clusium is as it is wont to be, that is, the powerful oppresse the weak, every one seeks that which pleases him, those which govern are repin'd at, projects and designs are contriv'd to no end, little true vertue is to be found there, but much hypocrisie, disorderly magnificence, excessive avarice, in∣justice, irregularity and confusion.

Of the Gardens of the Palace.

All the Ladies who were wont to pull down their Veils, when they fear'd lest their beauty should be con∣strain'd to yield to that of Terentia and Aurelisa, walk with open countenances during their absence; but for that the image of those two fair persons remains in the hearts of all those who have judicious eyes in relations to beauty, they have never the more admirers, and the remembrance of those who are no more seen there, still prejudices the glory of those that are.

On the Grove of the Spring.

Tho all the Trees be here as green as usual, yet there is much lesse company than was wont; not but that there are still a hundered thousand Birds which make the most delightfull melody that can be heard; but the rea∣son, no doubt, is, for that the crowd of honorable persons who came to walk here the last year, came not so much to hear the Nightingals sing as to behold the two fairest persons of the Earth, who were seen there al∣most every day. Now, instead of them, two melancholick Lovers are seen very frequently-there, who came to sigh in the most solitary places of the Grove. Sometimes they loose themselves in it, their grief so possesses them; and there are some also who assure they have made very amorous Verses which have been found carv'd upon the Trees, by which it appears that one of them loves a handsom fair woman, and the other a beautiful brown, However, this Wood appears so solitary, that there is cause to believe there will be no more resorting to it, if those two fair ones who are absent do not speedily return.

On the Ball, upon the evening of Juno's Festivall.

All sorts of people are seen here; some dance well, o∣thers ill, and many others do not dance at all. There are seen also several Ladies who ought not to dance more, be∣cause 'tis too long agoe since they begun to dance. There are young people too, who begin to see the World by the Fall, and are so out of countenance, that they cannot dance ac∣cording to the right cadence. Here are also knots and

factions, tho the design oftentimes is onely to dance ill. But, what is most resented, is, that the fairest ornament of the Assemblies at Clusium is no longer seen here, name∣ly Terentia and Aurelisa. And 'tis for the same reason, that Theanor and Aemilius are not seen here, who like bet∣ter to be in solitude by themselves than to be seen at the Ball, where they cannot see the only persons that can please them.

On the Medow of Flora.

All the World is much amaz'd, not to see any lon∣ger here that abundance of Flowers which were wont to be seen every year. Indeed, they say the West-winds, which serve to maintain the freshnesse of Flowers, have follow'd those two fair ones that love them, and that this is the cause the Medow has almost no Flowers this year. They speak of sending to request them to return, but very many beau∣ties oppose it, because they like better the Medow should be without Flowers, than to see the admirable complexion of Aurelisa and Terentia outshine the lustre of their own.

On the Temple of Venus.

A great sacrifice is preparing here for two unfortunate Lovers, who cannot be lov'd by their Mistresses, tho they have the most ardent and faithful passion in their breasts that ever was. There are some believe, that if they do not resolve to reward their fidelity, the Goddesse they adore will revenge their deaths after a strange manner; for 'tis the custom of this Goddesse, when she is offended with Ladies rebellions against the Laws of her son, to take a∣way their beauty immaturely, or cause them to love with∣out being lov'd. Therefore 'tis to be wish'd, those two fair persons would reward their Lovers for being so faithful. If they do so, they shall be happy in the highest degree, no∣thing being more sweet than to love and be lov'd, nor no∣thing so miserable as not to love at all.

Well, (said I to Aurelisa and Terentia, after I had done reading this news) What think you of that which you have heard? Me thinks, (answer'd Terentia) to my great discontent, Aemilius has a great wit. How? (reply'd Aurelisa roughly) do not you know 'tis Theanor that made this gallantry? For my part, (said I to them) if you ask me what I think, I shall tell you I believe it belongs to them both in common, that they have joyn'd their braines to∣gether, that they have both contriv'd the design, and afterwards caus'd it to be written by an unknown hand. No, no, (answer'd Terentia) 'tis not Theanor that writ these news; no question he has much wit, but it does not lye this way, and 'tis only Aemilius that could invent this folly. On the contrary (reply'd Aurelisa) it looks so like Theanor's, that I cannot be mistaken. However it be, (said I to them) if the Author of this Gallantry be doubtful, the cause of it is not so too, and you may easily judge that it was made for your sakes. Alas! (answer'd Terentia) what am I the better, if this contrivance be ingenious and handsome, if Love in∣spir'd Aemilius with it only to divert Aurelisa? Good gods, (reply'd that fair Virgin) what advantage is it to me, that Theanor had a hand in this agreeable folly, since you were the only occasion of it? 'Tis very strange, (said I to them) that by these news it cannot be known, whether Theanor intended it to Terentia or Aemilius to Aurelisa. Alas! (answer'd Terentia) the matter is not dubious; for after what they have told us, they conceive we easily make the application of what they write. However, all their wit is very ill bestow'd in the manner they employ it. But wherefore (said I) do not you both strive to conform your minds to your fortunes, and to love them that love you? Ah! my dear Amiclea, (cry'd Terentia) how happy are you in being ignorant of the power of a vehement inclination! and how cruell (added Aurelisa) in thinking we do not do all we are able, to love those that love us! At least, I know I have omitted nothing to effect it, nor neg∣lected any endeavours to love Aemilius, and hate Theanor. I have done more than you, (answer'd Terentia) for I have attempted to bring my selfe to that passe, as to be only indifferent for both, and I could never effect it, and notwithstanding all my endeavours, I have still an inclination for Aemili∣us and aversion for Theanor. However, out of re∣spect both to Vertue and Seemlinesse, both the one and the other ought to be equally conceal'd, for fear of offending Tolumnius; and that which ren∣ders me more miserable, is, that I believe, if Aemili∣us knew I did not hate him, and you did, it is possible he would love me. I have believ'd as you do, (reply'd Terentia) that if Aemilius were not ignorant of your aversion against him, and the incli∣nation I have to love him, in all probability he would love me; but at present I believe it lesse than I did. Therefore that which pleases me most in this Gallantry of Theanor and Aemilius, is, that these two Lovers however suspect nothing of our weak∣nesse towards them, and so I may see them without blushing; for if they had had any such suspition, they would not have said in this last Article of news, that when Venus is offended, she punishes the fair ones, that have disobey'd her, by causing them to love without being lov'd. In truth, (answer'd Aurelisa) our destiny is sufficiently intricate; for according to all probability we are likely to be very unhappy. After this, she took the pleasant news that was written to me, and read it over from the begin∣ning silently, whilst Terentia was in a deep musing, and I stood by observing them both. After Aurelisa had read the pacquet, Terentia took her turn to read it too; and tho it was sent on purpose to divert them, yet it made them both very sad. Neverthe∣lesse, they had some consolation the next day; for Tolumnius speaking to me in private, told me he had a purpose to marry Terentia and Aurelisa to his Nephews, and therefore desir'd me to know of these two Ladies what their inclination was, it being more just (as he said) to know the true sentiments of those which ought to obey, than of those who are to command. Wherefore (taking this occasion to do a service to my friends, tho it were against the inclination of my two of the other Sexe) I told him it was not necessary for me to speak to Terentia or Aurelisa, and that since I understood them better than they did themselves, I could assure him Te∣rentia would never be happy, if she marry'd The∣anor, but that she might be so with Aemilius; on the other side, that Aurelisa would be miserable with Aemilius, and very well satisfi'd with Theanor. If it be so, (reply'd Tolumnius) it will be easie for me to content them; for Theanor and Aemilius will not dare to disobey me; and besides, (added he) I be∣lieve their hearts are free enough at present, not to make any resistance to my commands. Moreover, both Terentia and Aurelisa are so well educated, that it will be no difficulty for them to comply with my pleasure. I thought to tell him then that he was

mistaken, but I was afraid to speak too much; and therefore I left the matter in this condition, and went to find my Friends. Terentia presently blush't at what I had said, but Aurelisa thank'd me for it; for I see not (said she) how any inconvenience can follow upon this adventure; for if Theanor and Aemilius readily obey, it will be a sign the passion they have for us, will not be strong enough to hinder us from hoping to be lov'd by them; and if they absolutely refuse to obey, indignation will cure us, and perhaps lead us to admit of the affection of them that love us, For my part, (said Terentia) I hope nothing, and I fear all; but when all is done, the case having no remedy, must be resolv'd upon. The same evening these two Lovers desiring to know how their news was taken, arriv'd, and made shew as if they knew nothing of it. But I being desirous to oblige them, commended that Gallantry before them; I shewd them it, and I brought them at length to confesse in secret, that they had contriv'd it together, as I had imagin'd. After all the Company was retir'd, Tolumnius did not fail to cause them to be call'd, that he might tell them what he had resolv'd upon. You know (said he to them) what command I lay'd upon you, to accu∣stome to visit Terentia and Aurelisa, and that 'tis my pleasure you should marry them; but since it is hard for a Man to be contented with the deportment of his Wife, if he be not lov'd by her, I have observ'd and caus'd the inclinations of the two persons I de∣sign for you carefully to be noted by a person of their familiarity. So that it shall be your own fault if you be not happy; for in brief, I know Terentia has for you (said he, looking upon Aemilius) all the inclination a vertuous Virgin can have for a Man whom she looks upon as he that is to be her hus∣band: and I know also (added he, speaking to Thea∣nor) that Aurelisa has a dearnesse for you, which ought to oblige you to prefer her readily before Terentia. Is it possible, my Lord (answer'd they both at once) that you should be well inform'd of that which you speak? Doubt not of it, (reply'd he) and conform your selves to my will; for tho you should have no great affection for these two Ladies, ye must think of nought but to marry them. They are fair, young, prudent, and rich; and that's suf∣ficient. If you do not love them before you marry them, you will love them after; as well as it often∣times falls out, that they who love their Wives be∣fore, come shortly after not to love them at all. Marriage and Love are two things, which are not frequently long together; and therefore determine only to obey me, for all my estate is for them who o∣bey me, and not for others. As for what concerns me, (reply'd Theanor) no respect of interest shall ever cause me to do any thing. And for my part, (added Aemili∣us) nothing can ever induce me to marry Terentia. For, in brief, (added he) since it equally concerns Theanor and my selfe, to let you know the truth, we ardently love Terentia and Aurelisa. But, my Lord, 'tis because we love them that we cannot marry them in the manner you propound to us; for Theanor loves Terentia, and I love Aurelisa. But since Aure∣lisa loves Theanor, (reply'd Tolumnius) and you are lov'd by Terentia, it concernes you to enforce your sentiments; for it is much more dangerous for a man to marry a Wife by whom he is hated, than it is for him to marry one whom he loves not, if he be lov'd by her, especially when she is fair and wise. However it be, (said he to them) I will not lay any constraint upon the two young Ladies, whose Pa∣rents at their death left them under my Guardian∣ship. But since you depend on me, and have a thou∣sand obligations to me, and since I can ruine you when I please, you ought to yield to my will: do so if you be wise; for assuredly you shall repent your selves if you do otherwise. Tolumnius spoke this with an aspect of choler, which hindred Theanor and Aemi∣lius from answering him; besides, having made them a sign to retire, they were constrain'd to go forth of his chamber to their own, but with so much af∣fliction, that they spent the night without sleeping: for Tolumnius having told them he knew the incli∣nations of Terentia and Aurelisa, they imagin'd it was an artifice of those two Ladies who hated them, to put an obstacle to their design. The next morning they were so sad, that never was a day pass'd after a more melancholy manner than that; for Tolumni∣us was possess'd both with grief and indignation; the two Lovers were alike in despair; and Terentia and Aurelisa were both equally afflicted and asham'd. Not long after Tolumnius told me, it very much troubled him, to find that Theanor and Aemilius had dispos'd of their hearts otherwise than they ought, but he intreated me to say nothing of it to Terentia and Aurelisa, and assur'd me he knew well how to make himself be obey'd. Yet this news did not re∣joyce these two fair Ladies, from whom I thought I ought not to conceal it; for when they came to con∣sider, that if Tolumnius persecuted Theanor and Aemilius, they might be hated by those whom they lov'd, their minds were in a strange perplexity. On the other side, the two Lovers, who were intimate friends, were in an unconceivable trouble; for if they resolv'd to obey, they should marry Women whom they did not love, either of them remaining amorous of one another's Wives. You may easily conceive that this gave them no small affliction. In∣deed in this condition they knew not what to say, either to her that they lov'd, or to her that they did not affect. Wherefore they chose rather to return to Clusium, than to continue in a place so unpleasing to them. Their departure offended Tolumnius, and sen∣sibly afflicted Terentia and Aurelisa. Sometimes they had sentiments of hatred, sometimes thoughts of love, and scarce ever any other than apprehensions of despaire. For my part, I did all I could to appease Tolumnius, and to comfort the two afflicted Ladies; but at length the time was come to return to the City, where all these persons were in a new per∣plexity. Before Tolumnius had spoken to the two Lovers, they did not perceive that themselves were very much hated or lov'd; but after he had told them they were not lov'd at all, and yet that they were not hated, they wonder'd they had no sooner understood the truth. When Theanor beheld Te∣rentia, he observ'd in her eyes a forc'd civility, which caus'd him almost to dye with grief, and when he look'd upon Aurelisa, he saw in hers something so sweet and modest, which intimated so much ob∣ligement, that he wonder'd he had not before per∣ceiv'd it. Aemilius on his part, when he look't upon Aurelisa, perceiv'd such a kind of fiercenesse in her eyes, that he could not see her without discontent; but he observ'd obliging languour in those of Teren∣tia, tho he avoided her looks as much as he could, that it made him think himselfe still more unhap∣py. Having taken notice of these different senti∣ments,

the two Lovers became more miserable; for before they comforted one another, but after that time they had severall fallings out, and accus'd one another unjustly, for the causes of their unhappi∣nesse. But yet from time to time, the equality of their ill fortune reunited them, and they contested again as often, and were possess'd with jealousie, altho they had no cause for it. For sometimes Thea∣nor accus'd Aemilius of not being displeas'd for being too much lov'd by Terentia, and presently after Aemilius reproacht to Theanor, that he was glad for being lov'd by Aurelisa. In the mean time they were possess'd with so violent a passion, that they could not resolve ever to obey Tolumnius. Who being an imperious man, was extremely disgusted with them, insomuch, that he said publickly, he would give all his estate to Terentia and Aurelisa, and marry them to others. And no question it was easy to find persons that would marry two fair, young, rich, and ver∣tuous Ladies; in order to which he propos'd to match Terentia and Aurelisa to two men of quality, who were amorous of them. But these two Ladies requested him with very much generosity, not to take away his estate from his nephews, and refused to marry the persons he propounded to them, tell∣ing him, that if the businesse were once accom∣plisht, they that should marry them, would not re∣quire what he gave them, and that for their parts it was not possible for them to resolve to see two such deserving persons as Theanor and Aemilius, un∣happy, for their sakes. However, 'tis certain Love had a share in their generosity, and it was not in their power to marry two men whom they did not love. Tolumnius esteeming them the more for this deportment, hated his nephews more, who on the o∣ther side were desperate at so generous actions, be∣cause they found it did not prejudice their love: for their passion increased from day to day, and they were so unhappy, that I could not but commiserate them. Mean while, they to whom Tolumnius pre∣tended to marry these two fair virgins, looking upon Theanor and Aemilius, as the obstacles of their hap∣pinesse, did not see them but with trouble and in∣dignation; and Aemilius and Theanor on the other side, considering them as persons that intended to make advantage of their unhappinesse, sought oc∣casion to quarrel with them, which they soon found, and fought. Theanor encountred him that was to mar∣ry Terentia, and Aemilius was matcht with him that was to have Aurelisa to his wife. The first of them mortally wounded his enemy, and Aemilius disarm'd his. Indeed their victory cost them dear; for they were both very much wounded. This combat fur∣ther increased the anger of Tolumnius, and caus'd much grief to Terentia and Aurelisa: for the latter was afflicted to see Theanor ardently lov'd by Terentia, and the former was so, to observe how much Aemilius was enamor'd on Aurelisa; but these two Ladies were much more troubled when they understood their two Lovers were in danger of dying. For, be∣ing possessed with great discontent, their wounds became sufficiently dangerous, and it was believ'd they would dy, tho their strength was still very vig∣orous. However, Tolumnius would not see them, but Elinyssa visited them without her husband's know∣ledge. During their weaknesse, Terentia and Aurelisa omitted no obliging care towards them both, with∣out distinction. The two lovers requested Elinyssa, she would please to let them see their fair Mistresses before they dy'd. Who being good and compassion¦nate, promis'd them they should, and entreated me to perswade my friends; whom with no great dif∣ficulty I brought to consent to it, not knowing but in this condition the two Lovers would resolve to ren∣der justice to their affection. They requested me that I would be one in this sad conversation; and Tolum∣nius being then at his house in the Country, Elinyssa lead us to the lodgings of these unhappy Lovers, ei∣ther of which desir'd to speak one after another to their Mistresses. After the first civilities, I betook my self to discourse with Elinyssa, whilst Theanor was speaking to Aurelisa, and Aemylius to Terentia. I desire your pardon, Madam, (said Aemilius to her, by whom he was lov'd) for the trouble I give you; but I find my self so unhappy, and so criminal, that I have not been able to refuse my selfe the consola∣tion of justifying, or at least excusing my self to you. For, in brief, Madam, when I first began to visit you, I observ'd my friend lov'd you; and I have alwaies found him so deserving a person, that I could not doubt but that he was lov'd again. Wherefore suf∣fering my heart to be surpriz'd by the charms of Anrelisa, I was not in a condition to dispose of my self, when I understood you had an aversion against Theanor, tho he had a great passion for you. How∣ever, you have not ceas'd to be good and generous; and, to perfect your being so, (added he), pardon me a crime which I cannot yet hinder my self from committing, and save the life of an illustrious friend, to render justice to the affection Theanor bears you. For, in brief, amiable Terentia, I do not love Aurelisa more ardently than Theanor does you. I wish to the gods (answer'd she sighing) I could love Theanor, I should be more happy than I am; but however, I can assure you I pity you both, and am much afflict∣ed I cannot contribute to the felicity of either. Alas! Madam, (reply'd he) for my part I seek no∣thing but to dy a little lesse criminal in your esteem, and a little lesse hated by the charming Aurelisa. I understand you well (answer'd Terentia blushing) and I will make you see that it is not my fault that you are not happy, At these words this fair virgin arose up, and told Aurelisa, Aemilius desir'd to speak with her. Upon which Theanor, who had an ex∣treme desire to speak with Terentia, told her with much civility, he conjur'd her to go and revive his friend, by giving him some small hope. Aurelisa not daring to refuse, because Elinyssa was present, went accordingly to speak with Aemilius whom she affected not, after having had a conversation with Theanor, almost like that which he had had with Terentia. When she approacht to him, Well, Mad∣am, (said he to her) shall the unfortunate Aemilius be hated when he is a dying? and shall he not have at least the consolation to think that you will pity him, and that if Theanor dyes as well as he, all your tears shall not be spent upon that ungrateful person, who loves you lesse than another Lady, very amiable indeed, but yet much lesse than you? Terentia (an∣swer'd Aurelisa) is more amiable than I, and you are so oblig'd to her, that you are as unjust in not loving her, as I am unjust in not loving you: But, in brief, we are not governors of our own destiny. However, believe that I pity you, and if I could render you hap∣py, I would do it with joy. You may at least let me dy with some consolation (reply'd Aemilius) by permitting me to believe that you would not hate me, but only because you love Theanor; and that,

if you lov'd him not, you would perhaps look upon me more favourably. After this, Madam, I shall desire nothing more of you. Whilst Ae∣milius was speaking thus to Aurelisa, Theanor us'd all the sweetest and most affecting expressions to Terentia, that the most tender love could inspire him with; but this Ladie's mind being disturb'd, for having found nothing but generosity in Theanor's heart towards her, answer'd him so negligently, that this afflicted Lover was ready to die at that ve∣ry instant, and lost his speech through the excess of his grief, But tho Terentia was extreamly perplex'd to understand how ardent Aemilius's affection was for Aurelisa, yet she left Theanor very hastily, and came to help Elinyssa and me to succour him; inso∣much that not being able to suppress his complaint, O gods (cry'd he lifting up his eies to heaven) with how many torments, would I have deserv'd Aemili∣us's death? In speaking which, this furious Lover offer'd to pluck off all that was laid upon a wound he had receiv'd in the left arm; whereupon Aurelisa leaving him by whom she was lov'd, to go to succour him whom she lov'd, tho he did not affect her, re∣strain'd his hand; and, making use of the power her friend had over him to withhold him. In the name of Terentia (said she to him) taking him by the hand, restrain part of your grief, and believe (added she, transported by an excess of tenderness, which the danger she saw him in, excited in her heart) that it shall not be my fault if Terentia do not render you happy. Yes, Theanor (continu'd this afflicted beau∣ty) since you cannot live for me, and cannot live without her, I will become the Confident of your pas∣sion, and serve you with her, tho it be to act against my self. Alass! Madam, (said she to her) 'tis enough that I die with grief, without causing me to die with confusion. Leave an ungrateful person, leave me to die, and succour the unfortunate Aemilius, who a∣dores you, and dies only for your sake. As we were in this perplexity, word was brought to Elinyssa, that Tolumnius was fallen sick at his house in the Coun∣try, and sent for her to come to him. So that it was requisite to depart, which nevertheless we did not do till after Aemilius was recover'd from his swoon, and those that attended on them were call'd for. But in fine, Madam, (to shorten my relation as much as I can) these two Lovers were cur'd in spight of them∣selves, and Tolumnius dy'd in the Country; but at his death he gave all his estate to Terentia and Aureli∣sa, and requested Elinyssa to do the like at hers, if Theanor did not marry Aurelisa, and Aemilius, Teren∣tia. These two generous Ladies after the death of Tolumnius, would not accept what he had giv∣en them, Terentia resolving to confer her part on Aemilius, and Aurelisa hers on Theanor. But they being as generous as their Mistresses, refus'd this high munificence. Theanor told Aurelisa, it was sufficient he could not give her his heart, without taking away from her an estate which belong'd to her, and Aemilius said the same to Terentia; inso∣much, that Elinyssa has been constrain'd to take care of all the estate of Tolumnius, till these four persons resolve what they will have her to do with it. The relations of Aurelisa and Terentia after the death of Tolumnius desir'd to take away these two Ladies from Elinyssa, and place them about the Queen, where they have been ever since, with sentiments of equal affection, without being able to succeed in changing their hearts; tho, during four months, Theanor, Ae∣milius, Terentia and Aurelisa, have done all they could to overcome themselvs. In the mean time Terentia has not omitted to do any good office for Aemilius, nor Aurelisa for Theanor, either with the King or Queen; so that, with the consent of these two Lovers, I may say there is no person in the world to whom they have so much obligation, as to these two Vir∣gins, whom they can never love. 'Tis true, Theanor has more obligation to Aurelisa, than Aemilius to Terentia, because she has really done all she could, to perswade this fair Virgin to marry him. And there∣fore 'tis a sentiment of gratitude, which caus'd that Lover to act, as all the Court has seen, when they were in danger of being drown'd. For you must know, Madam, that yesterday whilst the King was speaking to the Queen and you, Terentia and Aurelisa passing out of the porch to the bridge which lies over the ditch to go into the garden, Theanor and Aemilius, who attended on the King, were leaning against the gate to speak to them; and, as (persons that love never speak but what has relation to their passion, when they can) these two Lovers were rejoicing that the Queen being near the Camp, they could at least have the consolation of seeing them sometimes during the War. Theanor offer'd to speak some ob∣liging words to Terentia, who rejected him uncourte∣ously to speak to Aemilius who was on her side, tho his heart was Aurelisa's. So that this unhappy Lov∣er, not being able to discourse with her he lov'd, was oblig'd to speak to her that lov'd him. For my part (said Theanor) all the joy I have in the Queen's be∣ing near the Camp, is, that if I die at the siege (as I wish, since I can never be happy) Aurelisa will hear of my death one day sooner, and have the contentment, to see her self delivered from an ungrateful person. However, (answer'd Aurelisa) then I have cause to reproach you, that 'tis not my fault that you are not happy even at the loss of my own felicity. As she ended these words, the bridge broke, Aurelisa fell on the side where Theanor was, to whom she had spoken so obligingly, and Terentia fell on the side of Aemilius. I having since discours'd with those two Lovers, am inform'd what they thought in that oc∣casion, in which their passions and their reasons had a contest of a moment's duration, which caus'd them to act after a very different manner; for Theanor finding himself on the side where Aurelisa was fallen into the water, his first thought was to succour her: for having his mind then fill'd with what she had spoken so obligingly to him, the affe∣ction he had for her, the thousand offices he had render'd her, and the thousand rigours of Terentia, which excited indignation in him, gratitude carri∣ed him at that instant above his love: Insomuch, that out of generosity he leapt into the water, and went to succour Aurelisa, by whom he was lov'd, and whom he did not love. At the same time, Ae∣milius, tho he saw all imaginable dearness in Teren∣tia's eies for him, and had a thousand obligations to her, no sooner beheld Aurelisa in the water, than forgetting all he ow'd to Terentia, and all the rigours of Aurelisa, he did not deliberate between his grati∣tude and his love, but cast himself into the water as well as Theanor, to succour Aurelisa, whilst the poor Terentia was ready to perish in the sight of one Lov∣er whom she lov'd, and another who lov'd her. But to her good hap Cereontus, who was alwaies be∣liev'd incapable of love, was found to have a con∣ceal'd passion for that Lady, which he discover'd ve∣ry

opportunely to save her life: for, as you know, Madam, if he had not leapt into the water to rescue her, she had without question been drown'd. Thus, Madam, you understand the adventure of Terentia and Aurelisa, but that which is rare, is, that Teren∣tia, who found no lover to succour her, has at pre∣sent two, who pretend notwithstanding to dispute her affection; for Cereontus affirms, Theanor has no longer any right to Terentia; and Theanor main∣tains, that the excessive gratitude he had for Aureli∣sa, is a pure effect of the innocent love he has for Te∣rentia. But as for this fair Virgin, I assure you, she is to be pitied. Who ever saw (said she to me last night) a misfortune equal to mine? for is there a∣ny thing more cruel, than to see one's self deserted in a great danger, by a man that is lov'd more than all the rest of the world? and withal by another, that has sworn to me so long, that he loves me a thousand times above all the rest of the earth? As for Aurelisa, she is much more happy than I; they whom she hates, and they that hate her, save her life; but as for those whom I love, and those by whom I am lov'd, they equally abandon me; and for my last unhappiness, the insensible Cereontus comes to rescue me from death, to the end to make me better feel all the rigour of my misfortune, and to prepare also a new persecution for me. But, A∣miclea, (said she to me again) I will equally hate both him that I lov'd, and him that lov'd me; and since ingratitude has not hindred Aurelisa from being succour'd by Aemilius, I will be ingrateful to Cereon∣tus too, and, instead of giving him thanks for hav∣ing sav'd my life, I will accuse him of part of the miseries which I suffer. Yea, I will hate him too (continued she) for my weakness is the true cause of my misfortune; and, according to my present senti∣ments, I find nothing in the World but what is worthy to be hated and scorn'd. On the other side he us'd such expressions, that he could not but be piti'd. Aurelisa too complain'd she was more oblig'd than the desir'd to be. And Aemilius looks upon himself as more unhappy than before, since the services he renders do not make him lov'd the more: and Ce∣reontus also is in a strange fear, lest Terentia prove un∣just towards him. Wherefore, Madam, it lies in your prudence, and that of the Prince, to hinder such brave persons as these from quarrelling, and to seek some remedy to the unhappinesses of two Vir∣gins so amiable as Terentia and Aurelisa.

Amiclea having finisht her relation, found it was not unprofitable; for Aronces promis'd to take a particular care of those three Lovers; and the Princess of the Leontines, of the two amiable per∣sons who caus'd the unhappiness of the rest by their own. After which they went to the Chamber of the Queen of Hetruria, and Amiclea return'd to that of the two afflicted Virgins, with whom she found Thea∣nor and Aemilius, who after having deliberated a long time were at length enter'd into their Chamber, tho Terentia was unwilling to see either of them. Theanor was upon his knees before Terentia who lay upon her bed, and Aemilius stood near Aurelisa who sate leaning upon a Table. Whereupon Ami∣clea approaching to Aurelisa, without Terentia's ob∣serving it, Theanor was not at all interrupted. You see, Madam, (said he to her) an unhappy per∣son who confesses his Crime. No, no, (answer'd Terentia with a Tone sufficiently fierce): do not go about to excuse your self; you had reason to go, and succour a person by whom you are lov'd; and to abandon one that does not love you. But as for Aemilius, if you had reason, he is a Criminal; for he succour'd a person by whom he could never be lov'd, and deserted one that would have given her own life to save his. Aemilius hearing him∣self nam'd, drew near to her, and Aurelisa and Amiclea did the same, upon which there began so pathetical a conversation between these four per∣sons, whose interests together were so hard to be disintangled, that scarce ever was the like seen. Theanor appear'd very much afflicted, Aurelisa ex∣treamly perplex'd, Aemilius absolutely inrag'd, to see himself no more lov'd than before his succour∣ing Aurelisa; and Terentia so incens'd both against Theanor and Aemilius that she could not endure the sight of them. Go, (said she to them) go, un∣just persons as you are, and leave me at least the liberty to bemoan my self in quiet for my unhappi∣ness, in being lov'd by a man of such gratitude, that rather than be ungrateful to another he suf∣fer'd the person he lov'd to perish; and for a second unhappiness in loving one so ungrateful, that he had rather save her life by whom he is hated, than hers from whom he has receiv'd a thousand cour∣tesies. But, Madam, (repli'd Aemilius) if I am un∣grateful towards you, are not you so towards Thea∣nor, and is not Aurelisa the same towards me? In truth (answer'd this fair Lady) I know not whe∣ther we be ungrateful, but I know well we are ex∣tream unhappy, However it be (said Terentia) I have this advantage of my infelicity, that I owe no∣thing any longer to Theanor, and have so great cause not to love Aemilius more, that if indignation do not induce me to mistake, I am ready to hope I shall renounce my passion. As she ended these words, one came and inform'd Theanor and Aemilius that Aronces was returning to the Camp; which sum∣mons constrain'd them to go away without time to speak four words, or hear one that pleas'd them. Aronces being more sensible of the misfortunes which are caus'd by love than of any others, when he was upon the way, did not cease to speak to Theanor and Aemilius; he piti'd and comforted them, and pitti'd himself too tho without com∣fort, not having so much hope as to see a possibility of ever becoming happy. At his arrival at the Camp, he found a Council of War ready to be as∣sembled, so that it behov'd him to make truce with Love, and bestow at least part of his mind upon the cares of the army and the siege. Now the Tuscans being a superstitious people, the accident of the broken Bridge, and the interpretations of the sooth∣sayers upon it, gave occasion to several rumours a∣mong the Souldiers, some affirming that if Rome, were attaqued by force it would be taken; others on the contrary maintaining, that if the course were attempted, it would not succeed. Nevertheless, the first opinion being more generally prevalent than the other, Porsenna and Tarquin conceiv'd this belief would probably excite the Souldiers to act with greater courage. Whereupon understanding by some Spies, that it was believ'd at Rome that they had no design to storm it by force, they took up a resolution to endeavour to surprise it. Tarquin be∣ing perfectly acquainted with the strength and weakness of the City, and instructed concerning the Fortifications made there since his absence, ad∣vis'd to make the principal onset on the side that

appear'd most inaccessible (tho indeed it was not so) because it would be the least guarded. That for this purpose it was requisite to seize upon Janicu∣lum, and become Masters of the Sublician Bridge, which would afterwards be easily kept, because the Hill that was to be seiz'd on too would command it: That in the mean time no care ought to be omitted in order to such things as were necessary for the hap∣py success of the Siege, in case this design should not take effect. Accordingly Porsenna sent order for the Boats which he had provided, to come away, not only with intent to stop up the Tiber with them both above and below Rome, but also to make two Bridges with them, which might be serviceable for the communication of the several Quarters of his Army. The resolution therefore of attaquing the Hill Janiculus being taken, order was given for the Forces design'd for the attempt to be in readiness to march at the first break of Day; and for those who were to make false assaults in several contrary places to be ready also to execute what should be commanded them, and likewise for all the rest of the Army to be in arms. Aronces was the man to whom this bold enterprise was encharged, Titus was com∣manded to back him, Porsenna and Tarquin remaining in the Camp to give orders according to occasion, and Sextus was intrusted with the care of the false assaults. Nevertheless he was desirous to be in the most dangerous place of all; but Tarquin knowing how violently he was hated by the Romans, conceiv'd if they should know him during the fight, it would make them become the more valiant. This design having more need of Foot than Horse, because it be∣hov'd them to seize on a Pass, the access to which was difficult. Aronces put himself on foot at the head of the Forces intended for it, and a Horse was led by, for him to make use of, when he shall see it convenient. There was this difficulty in the thing, that the attaque could not be begun till it was day; because the Souldiers being to pass through rough and intricate places, would have molested one ano∣ther, if they had gone in the dark without see∣ing their way. But not to lose time, Aronces marcht away in the head of his Forces as soon as the first appearance of day light. The Cavalry kept themselves on both sides of them, either to with∣stand such as might come out of Rome by the Sublician Bridge, where the Hill Janiculus was attaqued, or to oppose such as might come from the Hill by any o∣ther side. Titus kept in readiness to back Aronces, if there were need of it; and Aronces prepar'd him∣self to shew the Friends he had in Rome, and the E∣nemies he had in the Camp, that he deserv'd all the glory he had acquir'd in so many several occasions as he was present in. Telanus, Aemylius, Theanor, Lu∣cilius and Cesonius, brothers to the generous Melintha, and all the other brave persons of the Army fought near Aronces, whose mind was then very much im∣ploy'd, not onely with the care of coming off hand∣somely in this great enterprise, but also with the passion he had in his breast. For he was now be∣ginning to draw his sword against Rome for whose interests he had gain'd a Battle, and he was going to see the house of Clelius, if his attempt succeeded; for it stood at the end of the City, on the side of the Hill Janiculus. He had indeed the consolation of appre∣hending, that neither Clelius nor Octavius would be in this attaque, for the hill Janiculus was a kind of out-piece of the City, which in all likelihood a man of Clelius's age would not go to defend, nor was it probable Octavius's weakness occasion'd by his wounds would yet permit him to come into the field. He had likewise understood by a Spy, that Mutius was upon the guard of that place; and there∣fore knowing how couragious he was; and looking upon him as Rival to Herminius, and consequently no friend to himself, he went to this assault with a resolution to signalize himself highly in it. He fan∣ci'd also some pleasure in thinking that after the ta∣king of this Hill, he might be able to seize on the Bridge and the Gate, and that his valour might have the fair eyes of Clelia for Witnesses, it being suffici∣ently difficult for the last daring Ladies to refrain from beholding that, which nevertheless they would be willing not to see. Aronces therefore went to the fight with all the ardour of an Heroe, that would make it the interest of his Love to be courageous, to the end he might be more so. He caus'd his For∣ces to advance in so good order, that their march did not break them, tho they were necessitated to pass through a way sufficiently troublesome, and they came very near the Hill Janiculus before Mu∣tius discover'd thom; for they took a certain by way the which kept them from being taken notice of. Besides that a good thick mist being risen that morning which held for an hours space, it was not easie to discern them. 'Tis true, Mutius did not fail to send forth every night a party of Horse, to serve for a Guard to the Place he was Commander of; but Aronces took a way, by which he did not look to be assaulted. So that he was sufficiently surpris'd when he saw himself forc'd to prepare so suddenly to fight; but having an undaunted heart, he soon resolv'd upon it. However he sent forth∣with to advertise Herminius, Who kept Guard at the Gate of the Bridge, to send him aid; and ac∣cordingly Horatius in the Head of the Principal Troops of the second Legion, went to assist Mu∣tius to defend a hold of such importance. When he arriv'd, Aronces had already beaten back the E∣nemies to their first Trench; for when Porsenna's Troops advanc'd, Mutius came out in person against his Assaulters; upon which Aronces seeing an Ene∣my against him, which he could not overcome with∣out Glory, encourag'd his Souldiers with his voice example, and went directly up to him, conceiv∣ing that if they could kill him, he might then ex∣sily carry the Pass which he guarded. The fight was very sharp, and very Bloody in this place; for the example of two such valiant men so ani∣mated both parties, that if it had been possible to resist Aronces long, Mutius had not yielded to him. But this Prince being this day more redoubtable than ever, there was no means to hold out against him. Every blow that he gave was mortal, all his Orders were executed as he could have wisht, his example redoubled the Valour of his own Par∣ty, and weakened that of his enemies. Mutius himself was amaz'd at it, and soon constrain'd to abandon the first Trench, to the end he might bet∣ter defend the second. But Horatius being arriv'd in the Head of the Troop which were sent to aid Mutius, Aronces, after having first forc'd the Trench, found the number of his Enemies redoubled, but as it is the custome of those who have great hearts, for their courage to encrease when the danger is so, Aronces being follow'd by all the brave Persons that accompani'd him, charg'd his Enemies with such

vigour that they were astonish'd at it, and constrain'd to withdraw from the second entrenchment, as they had done from the first. Now altho Horatius ow'd his life to a Rival more than once, and in spight of his love was loath to be ingrateful to him, yet he did not cease to prepare himself to fight with him in this occasion, after having ralli'd and encourag'd his Forces; for the interest of Rome being contended for, and they in opposite Parties, he made no scruple of defending himself against him that attaqued him, how oblig'd soever he was to him. So he helpt Mutius to bear up against the violence of so redoubt∣able an Enemy; but tho his valour was not easily pa∣rallel'd in the World: yet that of Aronces was grea∣ter than his; for without looking whether he were follow'd or no, he still charg'd forward, and suffer'd none to stand against him. Mutius himself was wounded by Aronces, and carry'd out of the fight, tho it was not mortally. So that Horatius perceiving it would he impossible to hinder Aron∣ces from making himself Master of the Place, judg'd it more requisite to think of going to defend the Bridge, than to persist in the unprofitable main∣taining of a Post which he could not keep. Ne∣vertheless he made a great shock to beat back the Enemies: but Aronces coming up to him, brandish∣ing his sword, This is the day, Horatius, (said he to him) that we may end all our differences, and per∣haps our misfortunes. Since 'tis lawful for me (an∣swer'd Horatius fiercely) to fight against all Ene∣mies of Rome whatsoever, I am willing that we de∣termine all our quarrels with our swords. In speak∣ing of this, these two valiant Men began to fight, which in all probability had not ended but in the death of both, if Publicola, who was advertis'd of the state of the matter had not sent order to with∣draw the Forces from the Hill Janiculus, and to take care only for the defence of the Bridge. 'Tis true this order was in a manner unprofitable; for the valour of Aronces and those who follow'd him, had already driven the Enemies to that choice. Wherefore Horatius observing the disorder of his Forces, bethought himself of retiring. Which yet he was much put to't to do. For Aronces having pass'd upon him, seis'd upon his Sword, and took it from him: but Horatius being strong, disengag'd himself from his Enemy, and drawing back towards his Souldiers to get a Sword, they enclos'd him, and shrouding him from the sight of his Rival, con∣strain'd him to obey the Orders of Publicola. Aron∣ces all fierce with his victory, sought for his ene∣my, whom he had overcome; but not finding him, he sacrific'd to his revenge, all such as dar'd to re∣sist him, and made himself absolute Master of the Hill Janiculus. After which conceiving it requi∣site to make sure of the place he had gain'd, he staid there to give necessary orders for the guard∣ing of it, and causing fresh Forces to come to seize upon the Bridge, whilst Telanus in the head of a part of the victorious Troops pursued those that retreated, with intention to begin the assault of the Bridge, and so to become Master of the Gate which Herminius guarded. But the Tuscans found this de∣sign was not so easie to execute as they had believ'd; for Horatius, being provided of another sword, stay'd at the end of the Bridge, and bore up against all the impetuofity of the Enemies. Aronces indeed was not there, but he had so many Enemies on all sides, that any other but he would never have dar'd to think of resisting. In the mean time there was a strange confusion in Rome: the affrighted People believ'd the Enemies were coming in upon them on all sides, the Women went to the Tem∣ples to supplicate to the Gods, the Old Men encou∣rag'd their Children to the defence of their Coun∣try, all such as bore Arms, went whither the Con∣suls commanded them to go: and Publicola with∣out being terrifi'd gave such orders as was necessary for the conservation of Rome. During this great Tumult, Clelia was at a window of her Closet with Valeria and Colatina, who were then at her house, and who suffer'd more than can be imagin'd; for they might propably undergo considerable losses in both parties. It was known by wounded Mutius, that Aronces was in person at the Hill Janiculus, and that the Prince Titus was there too; for his Troops advanc'd for the winning the second Trench, and Valeria seeing her dear Herminius at the guard of the Gate which was expos'd to the Enemies, thought her self every moment in danger of losing all she lov'd, as well as Clelia and Colatina. They having a true love to their Country in their hearts, pray'd the gods for the preservation of Rome: but at the same time they pray'd for those that assaulted it, and made as ar∣dent vows for Aronces and Titus, as for the liberty of their native City. No question but they judg'd it a dreadful spectacle, to see all the Mountain which lay at the end of the Sublician Bridge cover'd with Soul∣diers, who throng'd down it to back those who at∣taqu'd the Bridge, and to see the Roman Souldiers at the same time daunted with the approach of that multitude of arm'd Men, who came upon them, as to an assur'd victory, and retiring in Confusion, and entring tumultuously into the City, for all the resistance of Herminius, who endeavour'd to hinder them from it, and could not so much as cause the Gate to be shut. So that Horatius saw himself left alone, to bear up against the whole power of the Enemies. 'Tis true, Herminius and Spurius soon joyn'd them∣selves to him, and these three Lovers did prodigi∣ous things in the sight of their Mistresses. Whi∣ther flie you, Cowards as you are, (said Horatius to the Souldiers that forsook him)? do not you see, that if you abandon the defence of the Bridge, there will presently be as many Enemies, in the Palatine Hill, and the Capitol, as in the Hill Janiculus? At least (added he••) if you will not fight, break the bridge, and leave me alone to bear the shock of those Enemies, who are not terrible but because you fear them. At these words the affrighted Souldiers chose rather to break the Bridge than to fight; and accordingly they began to break down the Bridge with all the dilligence of people possess'd with fear, whilst Horatius accompani'd onely with Herminius and Spurius, sustain'd the whole power of the Ene∣mies, without other arms than their bucklers and swords. 'Tis true he appear'd with such a bold∣ness, that the fierceness wherewith he repell'd those that assaulted him, struck terrour into them, and sometimes forced them to recoil. Herminius and Spurius seconded him likewise with very great va∣lour; but at length the Bridge being almost bro∣ken, and nothing left but a small Plank to pass from one side to the other, he told Herminius and Spurius, it was time for them to retire; and accordingly these two gallant persons imagining he intended to pass over the plank as well as themselves, retir'd. But Horatius led by an Heroical ardour, fiercely

commanded the Romans to break down that Plank, and staid alone for defence of the Bridge, sometimes defying the Tuscans, and sometimes reproaching them for their injustice in protecting a Tyrant; and sometimes threatning them as fiercely, as if it had been in his power to overcome them, tho he stood alone against a whole Army. This extraordina∣ry action so amaz'd the Enemies, that for a small while they suspended the violence of their valour, not knowing almost what they were to do. But at length seeing Horatius going from side to side with his sword in his hand, to the end he might take up all the Bridge, they were so struck with shame, and enrag'd, that in an instant a storm of Arrows fal∣ling upon him, his Shield was broken all to pieces. At which moment Herminius and Spurius perceiving Horatius had not pass'd back upon the plank, offer'd to return to him; but they could not, because they, who were set to break it, having done it according to Horatius's orders, and that part of the Bridge being fallen into the Water with a great noise, all the Romans sent forth such loud cries of joy, that the Enemies withheld their fury for an instant, whilst Horatius observing Rome was in safety, lift∣ed up his eyes to Heaven and cry'd, O god of Ty∣ber, receive favourably into thy bosome, a man who has never been willing to live or die but for his Country: In saying which he leapt into the wa∣ter, and turning his face towards the windows of Clelia, which lookt out on that side, he began to swim, without forsaking his sword or his shield so shatter'd with the Enemies arrows. But tho this spe∣ctacle deserv'd only admiration, yet the Tuscan Sol∣diers looking upon Horatius, as a man, who alone had hindred them from taking Rome, began to shoot upon him such a great multitude of Arrows, that he could not have fail'd to perish, if the valiant Aronces, after having assur'd the Post which he had gain'd, had not arriv'd on Horseback upon the bank of Tyber. Where being inform'd of what had pass'd, and being not able to hinder himself from admiring his Rival, the same Prince who an hour before endeavour'd to kill him, could not suffer that so valiant a Man as he should perish after so strange a manner. Yet he wisht he could have fought with him, and advanc'd towards the River for the pur∣pose; but Horatius was already so near the other side of the Tyber, that he could not come at him. Wherefore not being able to overcome him glori∣ously, he would not that he should perish in his pre∣sence, after having done so glorious an action; and, out of unparallel'd generosity, forbad his Souldiers to shoot upon Horatius. Ah Cowards (said he to them) you ought to have overcome him with your swords, and forc'd the Bridge which he defended, and not cover him with Arrows when he can no longer defend himself. These words having stopt that clouds of Arrows which darken'd the Air, both parties beheld Horatius safely arrive at the other side of the River, and Aronces had the grief to imagine, that Clelia saw with her own eyes the great action of his Rival, and that she beheld at that instant the great honours the Romans were doing him. However there being nothing more to be done, Aronces was enforc'd to be contented with having gain'd a very advantageous place, which would extreamly inconvenience Rome, and prevent∣ed their making of Sallies, which might have much molested the Camp of the Besiegers. But tho this dayes actions were very glorious to him, in as much as he had wounded Mutius, disarm'd Horatius, and taken the Hill Janiculus, yet he was excessively af∣flicted. Not that he was capable of envy; but the Passion of Love in his breast, caus'd him to appre∣hend distasteful consequences of his Rival's glory. Accordingly the next morning he understood by a Spy, that the like honour had never been done to any other Roman since the foundation of Rome; that the Senate had decreed a Statue should be erected to Horatius at the end of the Bridge which he had defended, that Clelius was the Man that propos'd the rendring the publick testimony of gra∣titude to his valour, and that at the dissolving of the Senate, the same Clelius had carried Horatius to Sulspitia and Clelia. Dispatch, Fortune, dispatch, (said Aronces in himself, as soon as he had opportu∣nity to be alone) render me the most unhappy of all men, by wholly depriving me of hope and possibi∣lity of ever to become happy. For what ground is there to retain the least hope after that which is arriv'd? Clelia hath seen my Rival with her own eyes, doing the greatest action that ever was, and perhaps too she believes I was among those he fought with at the end of the Bridge, and puts me in the number of those that could not overcome him. But, alas! tho this should not be so, yet Clelius will make use of Horatius's valour against me: for what can be refus'd to him, that has preserv'd Rome? Therefore I must resolve to see Clelia unfaithful, or Clelia persecuted; and consequently I must prepare my self to be alwayes miserable.