The extravagant shepherd, the anti-romance, or, The history of the shepherd Lysis translated out of French.

THE Anti-Romance; OR, THE HISTORY Of the SHEPHERD LYSIS. (Book 14)

The Fourteenth Book. (Book 14)

ALL those that were then present at Hircans, staid a long time talking about those things that Clarimond and Philiris had said, and their admiration of Philiris was not little; he without any notice given him to answer to what was then controverted, having shewn himself so ready and able, that his discourse seem'd much more admirable then that of his Adversary, though it had not been so long. They were a∣stonished at his memory, which had been so happy, that he had answered in order to all the reasons of Clarimond, with very little hesitation. Lysis was almost out of himself for joy; and though the Poer Musardan had not so much wit as to judge of wit in others, yet he thought best to follow the Propositions of him that had spoken for Romances. As for the rest, they were, as I told you, of different opinions; but he that was most for Clari∣mond, was Adrian, who taking his opportunity to speak; said to him, Sir, you have done wonders in your speech, methinks your adversary made not so good a plea as you, and therefore I am very sorry you have not received that satisfaction you desired: For my part, I have ever born a great hatred to these ridiculous Romances. There is some injustice done me, saies Clarimond, but I hope I shall anon recover what I have now lost. Anselme would not at one blow dash the common opinion, though he was oblig'd to condemn it; and as for him who hath spoken against me, I am sure

he did it only to exercise his wit, and that his heart hath ever thought contrary to what his tongue hath spoken. 'Tis the same case as that of your Counsellors, who to get money or reputation, entertain and maintain all the causes that come to them, be they ever so bad. I deny not but Philiris hath alledg'd very strong rea∣sons against mine; but to what purpose are they, since they only shew the subtil∣ty of his wit, and not the innocency of those he hath vindicated? They them∣selves had never consider'd of maintaining their works by any such considerations as his: for if they had had any such, they would not have done their reputation that injury as to have conceal'd them.

Lysis having over-heard this discourse, turns to Clarimond; Dost thou think thou speakest truth in this? saies he to him; for my part I must confess, that though thou hast spoken against what I lov'd, yet had I a greater esteem of thy eloquence then I had ever; but when I heard Philiris, the case was altered. And I assure you notwithstanding all this, replies Clarimond, that you will finde Philiris anon of another opinion then what he held. That will be a strange blow indeed, saies Lysis, with a smile.

Carmelin by chance observing Lisetta near him, who was come to whisper some∣what in her Mistresses ear, would needs hold her by the sleeve; which Lysis per∣ceiving, said to Amaryllis, that their loves should not be drawn out any further, but a happy issue put to them. Lisetta presently got away; and Amaryllis answer∣ed for her, that she thought her self very happy to be married to Carmelin; but the question was, whether he had means enough to maintain her. He hath ever told me he was nothing in debt, replies Lysis; and therefore I think him rich. What's more, he's willing enough to work, and by that means he may in time come to have a good flock of sheep: As for his vertues, I pass my word for him; and if you will clap up an agreement, Love shall be the Notary, and shall draw up the contract, and keep the copies of it. Amaryllis told him it were better to delay it a little, that the two Lovers might try whether their conditions were such as would agree together.

Clarimond upon this discourse, went aside to speak with Hircan, who was gone into a study at the end of the Hall, and all the counterfeit Shepherds with him. Dear friends, said he to them, we have taken our pleasure sufficiently of Lysis. His follies would henceforth be rather troublesome to us then delightful, if we should suffer him to continue in them; besides, it is some touch to conscience, to entertain a man still in those extravagances, which are repugnant to reason. You are a great Orator, replies Meliantes, you would teach us the precepts of charity, which we know as well as your self. Why may we not yet a while enjoy the plea∣sant conversation of Lysis? If he were possessed with any hurtful folly, you had rea∣son to be so ready to restore him. His imaginations never carried him to do mischief to any man. If he does not hurt, 'tis certain he does no good, saies Clarimond; and wheaeas his minde is capable of great things, if it were well guided; he is now in such a decay of spirits, that if he go on a while longer, it may be despe∣rate to restore him. If you do not consider this, represent to your selves, that if you were resolved to make further sport with this poor Shepherd, you cannot con∣tinue it much longer, for Adrian or Anselme will carry him away to Paris. 'Tis there we would have him, replies Meliantes; 'twill be good sport to govern him in great companies. 'Twere a pitty so famous a place should want this recreation. That will never be, saies Clarimond; for assoon as he were there, they would chain him up, lest he should run up and down the streets and disgrace his friends. Sup∣pose him now upon his departure, and learn in time to quit that satisfaction you must some time be depriv'd of. Consider that there will be no less pleasure to re∣store Lysis to his wits, then there would be to continue him in his madness as you desire.

Hircan was of the same opinion, and Philiris too, so that they soon brought their companions to the same point. They then thought it a very good work to re∣store their Shepherd to himself again; and the hopes they had to do it were not

small, when they represented to themselves, that Lysis had good natural faculties, which he could not but discover in his greatest extravagances. His discourses and his inventions amaz'd all the world; and if his errors had not hindred him from employing his subtilty in good things, he had never done any thing discommend∣able.

While they were in this discourse, a serving man came and told Hircan that the Hermit was at the door for an alms. They call'd him by no other name, because there was no other Hermit thereabouts, and it was the same that Lysis had me•• some time before. Hircan having given order he should come up, the Shepherd presently call'd him to minde, and went and saluted him with a great deal of com∣plement. I am very glad my Cousin is acquainted with you, saies Adrian to the Hermit, I should heartily wish you would make him walk in the way of vertue. I doubt not but he is very well given thereto, replies the Hermit; he was almost perswaded to enter into that contemplative way of life that I follow; but I believe all the hurt that's in him, is that he is still in love. I am so, and shall be eternally (saies Lysis in a loud Tone) Charite is she that I love; my Cousin hath seen her, all the Shepherds know her, the Birds, the Trees, the Rocks and the Fountains are not ignorant who she is; for when I complain of my misery, every thing, even to that which hath no soul, assumes one to hearken to me. Provided your love aims not but at a faithful marriage, saies the Hermit, I shall never be among those that will blame you; for marriage was instituted by our Saviour, who after the creation of the world, bestow'd Eve on Adam; and St. Paul, saies, It is better to marry then to burn; but away with sinful concupiscence, if so be your soul be stain'd with it. The waters of the clearest springs are not more pure then my desires, replies Lysis; I know incontinence destroys both mens bodies, and their mindes, and that it is like those fruits that grow about the Lake Asphalt••tes, which seem fair and ripe, but within are nothing but ashes. Ever from my infancy, I have known what belong'd to the two ways which presented themselves to the great Alcides; and two women made their orations to me, as they did to him, but I follow'd her that led me into the rough way of vertue, though the other would have led me an easier way. I now go upon thorns, whereas others tread upon roses; but I am al∣so sure to come to that eternal glory which so many Heroes have sought after. 'Tis for that we must swear, 'tis for that we must go naked, having nothing but a club to overcome monsters, the enemies of mankinde: And 'tis for that in brief, that we must forsake the pleasures of this life, and live upon earth, as if we were al∣ready of the other world; that is to say, have no other entertainment for the most part then good meditations.

The Hermit was extreamly pleas'd at this discourse, for he interpreted all religi∣ously, and imagin'd that Lysis spoke of the glory of Paradice, and that he would quell the Monsters which are our enemies; that is to say the Devils. He there∣fore turning to Adrian, said to him, Do you not see your own happiness in so learned a Kinsman as you have? I have heard very few Preachers speak better then he does. What reputation would he in time come to, should he enter into that calling! I should be very glad would he give himself thereto, replies Adrian; if you had heard other discourses of his, you would have been amaz'd. He will speak to you three hours together, without any trouble, and I know not whence he hath what he saies: for the most part he is so deeply learned, that I cannot under∣stand one half. It must be conceiv'd he hath done nothing all his life time but read. And it hath so happen'd, he hath taken a man, who is almost as great a Schollar as himself. But I must tell you, that I think all their knowledge is un∣profitable, or rather hurtful to them; for they employ it only in those things which I can by no means approve. Is this true? saies the Hermit to Lysis; do you abuse the good gifts which God hath bestow'd on you? My friend, will you not observe all the articles of our faith? I observe my faith to Charite, replies Lysis; I have promis'd her before the throne of Love, to be eternally hers▪ How! what impiety's this? cryes out the good Father; when you are spoken to concerning

God, you speak of his creatures, as if you would adore them instead of him. If you will not address yourself immediately to his infinite Majesty, because of the greatness of your sins, recommend your self to some good Saint, that may deliver you from the pains of hell. She is a fair Saint that I serve, says Lysis; and 'tis certain she can deliver me from the pains of hell, since by her cruelty she could condemn me to them. Nay, she can do greater things then that: All that are in this house can assure you that this morning she rais'd me from death to life. Inform your self of this miracle. My Cousin is a Heathen, cries out Adrian; alas! there's no question of it: He's worse then a Mah••metan: Ah! what cursed Books are these that have thus destroy'd him!

Hircan and the rest of the Gentlemen came in at this noise. Clarimond having understood the controversie, perceiv'd the Hermite was not able enough to convert the Shepherd. As for his own part, he thought now was the time to try whether he might be more fortunate then another in the design he had to restore him to his senses, by the help of those artifices which he had resolved to make use of. There are a many things which I must communicate to you before this honorable assembly, says he to him. 'Tis now that I am to shew you that I am really your friend, as I told you some dayes since: 'Tis Philiris and his companions that are your enemies, though you have ever thought the contrary; they have hitherto promoted your humours, and 'tis that hath put you into the way of destruction. Since your coming to years of discretion you have read a many fabulous books, which you have taken as true, for want of being acquainted with some one that could discreetly have con∣vinc'd you of your erroneous opinions. I must not any longer conceal my thoughts as I have heretofore, which I did only by degrees to insinuate into your good opi∣nion, that I might be permitted one day to speak freely to you. You have just now discover'd the greatest extravagance in the world; you have spoken of your Mi∣stress as of somwhat divine, though you cannot but know she is a mortal creature that eats and drinks as any of us do. You said you had no faith but for her; have you quite forgotten the faith of your Fathers, and turn'd Idolater?

Lysis seeing he was set upon more vehemently as to this point then ever he had been before, was not so extravagant, but he call'd to mind the good precepts had been infus'd into him in his infancie; so that at this very first assault of Clarimonds he was almost chang'd into another man. He was therefore forc'd to answer, that he acknowledged no other God then him that had created heaven and earth, and that he had ever ador'd him in the same manner as his father had taught him. As for Charite to whom he gave divine attributes, it was only to accommodate himself to the stile of the Poets, whom he was resolved to imitate. This is not all you have done, there's much more, says Clarimond, you have ever talk'd of an infinity of an∣cient Gods, as if there were really any such; and yet whosoever adores this great God who hath given us our beings, looks upon all those little Gods as having no subsistence but in fables, which men feign'd while they were yet in their first errors. Have you not told us a hundred times, that there was a Diana in the woods with her Nymphs, that there are Hamadryads and Gods of the River, and Nymphs of Fountains? You have endeavoured to make all those believe it that you have con∣versed with, or came neer you; and you once cast yourself into the water to go and visit the aquatick Divinities. I know not whether your fellow-Shepherds were such fools as to believe there were any in the world. It need not seem so strange that I believe there are such Divinities, replies Lysis: I have not only read it in Books which have been made by Pagans, but in such as have been made by Christians who are alive at this day. What you say may be true, replies Clarimond; but those Au∣thors have writ that only as a fable; and if you doubt of it, be judg'd by Musardan. This Poet was still in the place; so that he confess'd that it was not to be question'd but that himself and all those that wrote books spoke of those ancient Divinities as a thing fained, only for the ornament of their Poesies, though it had sometime been a main truth, and believ'd, and that very passionately, by a many nations. You see what they think of it whom you have ever followed, says Clarimond; since you will

needs embrace their doctrine, you must believe what they say, and you are not more learned then your masters in the lectures they read to you. You are moreover to consider, that since there is but one Almighty God, all your little Gods cannot subsist.

Since you will have me follow the dictate of reason with you, says Lysis, I will declare one thing to you, which I would not communicate to any other person whatsoever; and that is, that I know very well that they are not really Divinities which are conceived to be in the fields, but they are so called in a certain manner of speaking; They are only Spirits under divers forms. And to make it appear to you that it is so, I have not only read in the Poets whom you tax with lying, but also in Authors that pretend to be Philosophers, and such as I dare say would be Divines. Witness Agrippa in his Occult Philosophy: 'Tis well known he speaks every where as a good Christian, and quotes passages of the holy Scripture; but yet having disposed his Spirits through all the Elements, when he comes to those he ap∣points for the Earth and the Water, he calls them by all those divers names we find in the Poets: He grants there are Fawns, Dryads and Hamadryads in the For∣rests, and Nayads in the Fountains; nay he denies not but Saturn, Jupiter, and the other Gods are each of them in his several heaven, exercising that power which the Ancients attributed to them. He also tels you at large what names to call them by, and in what manner they are to be invocated in his operations. Now we never use invocation towards things that have no power. As for his part, he calls them the Governours of the World: but it is my business only to tell you, that his meaning was, that they are Spirits.

Agrippa then it seems is one of your Authors, sayes Clarimond: you have been extremely reserv'd, that we never knew you studied his doctrine before. Know then that it is as impertinent a Fellow as ever you met with; he mingles Divinity with fables: And though he hath a mind to dress up a Christian and lawfull Magick, yet he makes use of that of Hermes and other prophane Authors. Because that in the magick of the Ancients the Planets were invocated, as also the rest of the inferior Di∣vinities, he hath spoken in the same manner, as if it could be done still: But the ab∣surdity was so great, that he hath entreated all the world to pardon him, excusing it as an error of his youth. This I find in his book of the Vanity of the Sciences: there he retracts all. Clarimond is in the right, sayes Philiris, there's no answer to be made to what he hath said. But though Agrippa should not believe there were Dryads and Nayads, says Lysis, it follows not I should be of his opinion: Do I not remember that I have seen so many rural Divinities, when I was chang'd into a Tree? There was never any such thing, sayes Clarimond; and I tell you once more, that there was never in this world any body so changed. Do you not remember the reasons I alleadg'd once against Metamorphoses? I told you there was none a∣mong the heathens but the simple people, that believed any such thing could be; besides that it was by accident that these opinions got any credit among them. I gave you an account of divers persons who were thought to have chang'd forms, and more particularly that of the Robber, who was thought to be chang'd into a Raven. I told you the Poets had brought those things into reputation by their Verses; and if I am not deceiv'd, Philiris, Fontenay, and Carmelin himself ap∣proved my reasons: I know not whether they have been since poisoned by your errors.

I remember all this, says Lysis, but I value it not. We remember it very well, says Fontenay, but we found a great deal of truth in it. You then believe impostures, replies the Shepherd all in a heat. This is not the only point you will be contra∣dicted in, says Clarimond; be not angry yet, stay a while, and you shall have much more reason. I must tell you, that since all these Divinities you have talk'd of are but fictions, you had no reason to make all these Gentlemen put on Shepherds habit, making them believe that you would make them happy by that means, and bring them into conversation with the immortals. As for your golden age, you know what I said to you of it; I told you plainly, that to make that return, we must put

on as much savageness as those of the new found world. There was never any ima∣gin'd that that kinde of life could be as delightful as ours.

What hath Lysis then deceiv'd us? cries out Philiris; I had little reason to come so far to finde him. If he knows no more then I have yet seen, the Shepherds of our Country know as much, I will return to them. And shall I, saies Fontenay, stay here with an Impostor, who hath promis'd me such wonders if I would continue Shepherd? O! Cousin Hircan, give me my red suit again. Polidor and Meliantes said also, they would be no longer Shepherds; so that Hircan desired them to be quiet, and told them they should all have what cloathes they had brought to his house. Lysis extreamly troubled at this revolt, told them they would at leisure repent their forsaking him: but Clarimond bid him not to be so perswaded, and told him he would make it appear to him, that he had never known the least hap∣piness of condition, since he turned Shepherd, and that of all he had believed, there had nothing happened to him; and to that purpose he thus continued the discourse.

You are then to imagine, that I am better acquainted with your adventures then your self, for I have not only learn'd what you thought of them, but also what others conceiv'd who have abus'd you.

In the first place, being come to St. Clou, where you put on your Pastoral habit, Anselme having found you, as you admir'd your precious reliques, was so far from blaming you for it, that he hearkned attentively to your extravagant history; but what amazement must he have been in, to see you esteem so highly the foulest things in the world; and having promis'd you great assistance, such as was that of draw∣ing Charite's picture, you took him for the God Pan. The Poets never told you that the Sylvane God pretended to any skill in painting, but you thought there could be nothing impossible to a god. I will not mention the reasons you alledg'd to your Gardian, to perswade him that you ought to be a Shepherd, and that he should be one too, if he had any design to be happy. There hath been laughing enough at that impertinence already; I shall only mention that simplicity of yours to go and speak to a country Lobcock in Poetical and Romantick terms. The powe•• you attributed to Charite, put him into such a fright, that he and all his acquain∣tance were alarm'd all that night, imagining the end of the world to be at hand; I know not whether any dyed upon that fright. If any such thing had happened, you had been the cause of their death, and you would have been punish'd as a mur∣therer. You would also needs interrogate the Eccho, but you were neatly cheated; for whereas you imagin'd it was the Eccho of the Poets that had answered you, it was this Anselme whom you see, who cannot deny it. You might have perceiv'd then, how much he slighted and laught at the extravagances of the Poets, by the stories he told you about that repetition of the voyce, and concerning the three Destinies. He also laugh'd at that opinion of yours about the Sun, taking what is said of it litterally. You are to know, there is but one, and if we finde it in the morning in another quarter, though he hath been hidden from us, yet it did only pass under us, to enlighten the other Hemisphere, and did not rest in the sea, as your impertinent Authors tell you. Yet Anselme comply'd with you so far, as to make you another promise of Charites picture. I pass by your extravagance in the Inn, of not eating ought but what was red. This you would needs do, and your humor was satisfied. You perceived well enough that you had already deceiv'd your self, when Anselme told you that it was not handsome to play the Shepherd at St. Clou, and it was a great argument he told you the truth, when such a rout bore you company with stones. You were also pittifully abus'd when you took a Coun∣try fellow for a Satyre; for who hath ever seen any in France, unless it be in picture, or only by disguise in Pastorals and Masks? Nay, where were there ever any seen in the world; There's mention only of two or three, but they were mon∣sters, things extraordinary in nature. As for the picture which Anselme gave you, do you not see he did it only to abuse those descriptions of beauty which are in the Poets? Do you think your self that the features of that Metaphorical face are like

those of the Natural face of your Mistress? Though that were possible, amidst so many several colours, 'tis not Anselme hath done it, for he is not so good a pain∣ter, as that there can any excellent things come from him, he can only shadow Copper-pieces. I stick not to say this before him, because his reputation lies ano∣ther way. 'Twas also out of abuse, that he permitted you to be Judge in the dif∣ference between him and Montenor; and though you had not given judgement on his side, Geneura had nevertheless been frustated of her expectation. He seem'd to attribute great authority to your words: your Serenade and your Love-letters were in his opinion ridiculous enough, but you abus'd your self more egregiously, when you kiss'd the clapper of Leonora's door, while you perceiv'd not you were sprinkled with Urine instead of Rose-water. I omit many little particulars, as the Garlands wherewith you would adorn the portalls of Charites pallace, and the meeting with the Merchants of Paris, whom you took for Pirates. In all these were you as strangely deluded as could be imagin'd. When you were one evening at Charite's, 'twas pleasantly imagin'd of you that the candle could have been lighted at her eyes: If the Poets finde out so many conceptions upon the flames which issue out of their Mistresses eyes, they must be esteem'd no other then Poetical im∣pertinences. I cannot but laugh at your extravagant jealousie the day following, when you found Charite asleep in the garden. You were jealous of your own sha∣dow, nay of the very Atoms, and therefore with much more reason of any thing that touch'd her, as the grass whereon she lay. You imagin'd the Sun made a noise, as he went through the heaven, and that the plants did the like in growing: You af∣terwards committed a world of fooleries, and the perfection of your extravagance was, that being near Charite in the Court, you believed the fire of her eyes had burnt your hat, when it was one of Anselmes Lacqueys had done it with a Burn∣ing-glass: In consequence of this opinion, you imagin'd the next day that you were all afire, and went and cast your self into a fountain, where you had been drown'd had not sudden relief come. Being after this at Paris, you went to Burgundy-house, where you took the Comedy for a truth, making better sport to all the world then any play. 'Twas another good humor of yours, when you believed that the picture of an imaginary Shepherd was your own, and when you astonish'd the Stationer in St. James street with your words and actions. The discourse you held with Cecilia when you lay at her house were very pleasant, and 'twas pretty to see you come into this Country, when you thought you had gone into Forrests. This cheat you are convinc'd of, you can say nothing to it. Here's Anselme present that can Wit∣ness it, and not only this, but all the rest, in case you will deny them.

Anselme upon this advanc'd, and very seriously confirm'd all that Clarimond had said; whereat Lysis was so dash'd, that he suffered the other to proceed in his reproaches.

Do you not also remember, saies Clarimond, that I began to discover you by an∣other error of yours at my house: You took my mother for the sage Felicia; 'tis true, she is sage, but not Felicia. You were afterward mightily deceived, when you thought I would have taken your part; and again, when you gave your Mistress a Serenade, you thought it was an Hamadryad that answered you on the Lute, for it was our friend Hircan, whom I had given notice to of your enterprise. The good Hermit here present can also witness, that you spoke to him as if he had been a Druid, or some Magician, because you had read in your books, that the Hermites did sometimes practise Magick, and thought there was no sin in it. The most match∣less delusion was, that when you afterwards met Hircan, you took him for a Ma∣gician, and thought the Gentlewoman whom you called Synopa a Nymph of the waters. 'Twas as good a trick when you imagined that this cunning man, had changed you so perfectly into a maid, that you were taken for no other. Being a ser∣vant in that sex at Orontes's, you were accused of incontinence; and for tryal, they made you get up on a brass plate, which could not hurt you, there being no fire under; I came and proffered to dye for you; and when Leonora had commanded you to be burnt, Hircan came and deliver'd you from the injustice of your enemies;

but all this was but a Comedy, for it was so well known that you were Lysis, that the very children knew it, and they had much ado to keep them from telling you so. Being afterward come to my house with Carmelin, you did so many extra∣vagances that my Mother was amaz'd at it; but I pass by that, to come to your Metamorphosis. Having fallen by chance into a hollow Willow, you imagin'd you were become a tree, though none else thought so. What confirm'd you in this was, that Synopa came and visited you that night with two maids, who called themselves Hamadryads: one of them is here yet. As for the God Morin, who came after, it was Hircan, and Lucida was Amaryllis; and for the Cypress-tree, it was a serving-man. The fables which were related to you, were purposely made to abuse you; and all the other particulars of that adventure were out of design. The second night Anselme, Montenor and my self clad our selves like Gods of Ri∣vers to come and visit you; and that we spoke not, was for fear we might be dis∣covered. When we had sufficiently made sport with you and Carmelin, Hircan ap∣peared to you like a Magician. Anselme and I acted the two winds which blew down the Tree Lysis, who afterwards thought he was become a man again: for in∣deed it was no hard matter to perswade him to be one. If you will not credit this, call to minde the false birds which you found in this house some days since, they were the same we had on when we acted the Gods of the Rivers, and for the rest of our dressings, you shall be shewn them at any time. Since that, many things have happened to you which were very remarkable; and above all, the discourse which past between you and me concerning the Poets was very excellent, which had this effect, that you sent a Bill to be posted up in Paris. You receiv'd a Command with∣out Command from your Mistress, and then you would needs be sick, because she was. But that which is most admirable, is the abuse which Philiris, Polidor, Me∣liantes and Fontenay put upon you. They made you believe they were turn'd Shep∣herds for your sake, and that indeed you may make good, but if they did it, 'twas to make sport with you. Philiris is no Shepherd by birth, Fontenay never had any minde to that condition of life; and as for Polidor and Meliantes, they are Persi∣sians as much as I am: All the stories they have related to you, have been forg'd out of their own brains. As for Lucida and Synopa, you were very credulous when you saw them, to imagine they were both Shepherdesses, and not the Nymphs you had seen before. As for Synopa, she is return'd to her own house, and was not; as you conceive, chang'd into a Rock: The Country people hereabouts will tell you, that the rock which you would have Carmelin love, hath been time out of minde in the same place where you found it. The Hamadeyad you saw in the day, was Lisetta cover'd over with bark. As for the Ambassadors from Paris who came to you, they had only put on the names: And as for the enchanted Castle, whither you were carried in a Coach, 'twas a house of Hircans, which you may see when you please: we were the Gyants, and the hulch-back Souldiers, and you were no more invulnerable then any other. You went not through the ayr, neither coming nor going; for I assure you that Hircan never pretended to be a Magici∣an. When you thought to have carried away Charite, you only laid hold of a Bug-bear, which Orontes's Maids had dress'd on purpose for you. And to con∣clude my discourse, you have not taken any poison to make away your self, and consequently Charites eyes have not rais'd you to life again.

Clarimond having thus ended his discourse, Lysis was on the point to render himself, and yet he made him this answer. What, wilt thou then deprive me of the glory of so many noble actions? Can it be possible that so many honest people have deceiv'd me? Anselme hath already confess'd he hath done so, but may I believe it for the rest? Though we came to take our leaves of you, as pretending to return into the Country whence we came▪ replies Philiris, yet must we confess that it was to play the last of our pranks with you. And for my part, says Hircan, I was never any Magician: I assure you that all that Clarimond hath said is true, and I will give you what proofs of it you please to desire; I will shew you all the dresses wherein we have been disguis'd to bring about these notable adventures,

and will bring you all the Country hereabouts to tell you who I am, and who these Gentlemen are that have plaid the Shepherds.

All that were present having made Lysis the like assurances of the truth, and that very seriously, he was so touch'd with grief and indignation to have been so long deceived, that notwithstanding all his extravagance he fell a weeping, which with an accession of shame made him run away into a chamber where there was nobody. Clarimond having followed him thither, he cries out as soon as he perceiv'd him, O God! with what impostures hath my youth been abused? You would needs make us believe you were a Tree, and many other such things, sayes Clarimond; we could do no less then endeavour to abuse you too. You have no reason to be angry with any for deluding you, for we were all forc'd to it, since you were the first deceiv'd your self, and that to comply with you there was no other way but by deceiving you. We must needs have given way to the first violence of your ima∣ginations, lest by too great opposition they would have turn'd to fury. For my part I am he hath with the first endeavoured to undeceive you, and you may have taken notice of it; and 'tis in this case that you have had testimony of that friendship which I have so often boasted you. Let it appear that I have employ'd my time well this day, and that you will no longer persist in those errors which have hitherto troubled your brain.

What must I then do? says Lysis; advise me, that so I may not be destitute of all things. I have erewhiles sufficiently shewn you the impertinences of those fa∣bulous books, replies Clarimond; and through a fatal chance, all those who have entertain'd you hitherto have shewn you as much, though possibly without any design of theirs. All the stories which were told you one night of the rural Divini∣ties were so ridiculous, that you need no more to disengage your faith from Poeti∣cal Transformations. As for the histories of the four Shepherds, I have already said somwhat by way of example concerning the four kinds of Romances. Since Synopa had before given you a Relation of Metamorphoses, it was requisite the hi∣story of Fontenay should represent a Romance after the ancient mode, where they talk of Nayads, men falling in love with themselves as Narcissus did, and the arti∣fices of Magicians. As for the history of Philiris, it represented a Romance full of sympathie, sweetness and passion, such as might pass in this age, giving only the names of Shepherds to the persons introduc'd. As for what pass'd between Polidor and Rhodogina, there's an example of those tales that old wives tell children, and of such as I call Italian fables, because the Italians were the first broachers of them. Straparole hath made a sort of them in his Merry-nights, and divers others have imitated him. As for the adventures of Meliantes, they are according to the mode of your military Romances; and it is not to be forgotten that even Carmelin in the relation of his life hath given us an example of those Spanish Romances, wherein are represented the shifts and cheats of Beggers and Servants. It will be easily granted that all these Narrations exceed those I allow them for presidents; for though they are not so long, yet do they contain better things, and all through discover both order and invention. However I must tell you they are sufficiently ex∣travagant, and worthy to be contemn'd: And upon this ground I am to perswade you not to give yourself any more to the reading of such stories, since the best of them are not worth any thing; and that if you read any, it may be to laugh at them, or at the most for a transient pleasure, without ever imagining that you should live like the persons which are mentioned in them. Your desire was to imitate the Shepherds, though there be no pleasure in that kind of life; a man may live well enough in the Country, without carrying a sheephook: See how Hircan lives, see how Orontes, see how I live: We live always here, we go a hunting, we go a fishing, we walk abroad, we do what we please; is not that all you can desire? Whereas if we were Shepherds, we must look after our Flocks, which were a thing of too much trouble: one while a Sheep would be gone astray, which must be found again; another while a Wolf would make bold with one, and that must be pursu'd and recover'd; or it may be a Rot would seize all our

flock, and it would be no small employment to make them sound again. What means is there for men to enjoy themselves, as you would desire to do, amidst these several occupations which belong only to servants? you will tell me, that the Shepherds mention'd in the books, were not so careful of their flocks, and that they entrusted them to others; or it may be they had not any at all. You must then grant me, that there is no necessity of keeping sheep in point of happiness; nor consequently to be clad in white, and carry a sheephook: for the equipage of a Shepherd, is not necessary to him that does not actually profess Shepherdry; and when you shall quote me the examples of divers who have wore such a habit as yours, and yet kept no flocks, I shall confess that your Books are true; but if ever any did wear such a habit, they did it only out of conformity to some they con∣vers'd with, which cannot be said of you, since you were for ought we know the only Romantick Shepherd in France, when you began to be so first. Now do not tell me, that you know well enough that there are not many of your quality, but that your design is to bring Shepherdry into its former reputation; for to what purpose should you do so? I tell you once more, that without all that trouble you may enjoy all the pleasures in the world. Remember what Fontenay did one day cast in your teeth, when he compar'd you to Don Quixot; there will be many who will not stick to believe you imitate him, and when your adventures shall tran∣scend his, they will be look'd on no otherwise then greater arguments of your madness.

Lysis was in a deep consideration all the time of this discourse, and his minde being more clear'd up then ordinary, the admonitions of Clarimond were not dis∣pleasing to him. Now that you have deprived me of my companions, saies he to him, will you have me quit the Shepherds habit? I am so far from robbing you of your Companions, replies Clarimond, that Philiris and the rest will be more with you then ever, and will be eternally your friends; but for the Shepherds habit, you have no mans approbation to wear it any longer. If you only took that from me, 'twere no great matter, safes Lysis; but you will also take away all testimonies of the affection I desire to bear Charite, and 'tis a great hazard you will not take away that very Charite from me. The testimonies of your affection to your Mistress hitherto have been too extravagant, saies Clarimond. Those must consist in things that speak reason, and discretion, and you will finde, if you follow my directions, that you shall obtain whatever you desire of her, for I am very far from doing any thing might hinder you to serve her. Besides that, the more to induce you to quit this Shepherds habit, I must tell you it is the onely thing wherein you displease her. I leave you here a while to consider of it.

Clarimond having with these words left Lysis, return'd to the rest of the com∣pany. He told them all how gently Lysis had receiv'd his directions, and how stayed and discreet his answers were, and what hopes there were that in a short time he might be brought into a fair way: whereupon Amaryllis asked, whether it were not fit to send the Hermit to him, whose presence might oblige him to some respect, and put him the more in minde of his dutie; but it was not thought convenient, be∣cause it was more likely Clarimond should better go through with the good design he had undertaken; so that the Hermite was a while after dispatched away. 'Twas generally confest that the artifices which Clarimond had made use of to restore Lysis to himself, were so pleasant, that all the extravagant sallies of the Shepherd had not given near so great satisfaction. Carmelin himself, who had heerd all, was very glad his Master was convinced of so many truths, which he had sometimes taken great pains to perswade him to, and though he knew not what kinde of life they should lead together for the future, yet was he never the sadder, when he con∣sidered that thenceforward no man would abuse them, nor would they suffer them∣selves to be abused: For as for his part, to remedie all the delusions and cheats which might be put upon them, he resolv'd, that if ever he were called to any En∣chantment or Metamorphosis, he would never give credit to any such thing, no, not though all the men in the world should perswade him to a thing contrary to his opinion.

As for Adrian, he was so overjoi'd to see how Clarimond bestirr'd himself to restore his Cousin to his wits, and how far he had advanc'd, that he gave him all the thanks imaginable. Clarimond not finding Musardan, enquir'd where he was. They told him he was gone away, intending to lie that night at Lagny, though Hircan would have staid him; & that the cause of his departure was, that Adrian having understood at his first coming in, that he was a maker of Romances, and that Lysis had read his books, bore him such an inplacable grudg, that he set upon him assoon as he could possiby, and rail'd at him he could, whereto the Author not knowing what to answer, and withal, seeing his adversarie back'd by so many, thought it his best course to dislodge. Clarimond was much vex'd that he had not seen the contest; but what he had done in the mean time was of greater consequence. He was satisfied with the particular account which Adrian gave him of all that had been said; and afterwards turning to another discourse, he told the good man that his Cousins first maladie was love, and that the only desire to serve a Mistress perfectly, was that which had form'd in his head the imaginations of so many adventures, which he grounded upon those of the Romances, as he had gather'd from all that had past, so that to perswade him that a woman may be pleas'd without all those extravagances, must needs be the only means to bring him perfectly to himself; but that it were dangerous to deceive him in this case, unless there were a design to make him stark mad: As for exam∣ple, if he be told that Charite would not be cruel to him, she must not discover the least cruelty: Whereupon Hircan said, it was no hard matter to make him a happy man, and that was to work a marriage between him and that fair Charite. Adrian would know truly who she was, to see if the match were any thing considerable. Leonora told him, that she was a near Kinswoman of her last husbands, and that she had taken her into her service, because she was not too forward in the world, but that she would give somewhat with her in marriage. They represented to Adrian that though his Cousin had great wealth, yet could he not meet with a more advan∣tagious match, because he having the reputation of a hollow brain, there would be no such striving for him. Adrian and his wife esteeming an alliance with Leonora very honorable, and considering other reasons, said that they thought very well of Lysis's marriage with Charite, if so be the rest of his friends would consent there∣to. They also remembred them, that they had seen that Charite in the morning, and that she seem'd to be of a good calm nature, so that they thought very well of her.

And thus were they very serious about the marrying of Lysis, out of a confidence he would be wiser by it, as indeed there was much appearance. Leonora understand∣ing he was very rich, saw that at all adventure it would not be amiss to bestow Cha∣rite on him, by reason that though he should continue in the same crasiness, yet his madness was harmless, and haply he had not been guilty of so many extravagan∣ces, had not others started the occasions.

Orontes upon this going home with all those that had any relation to him, Adrian took his leave of them, promising Leonora that he would treat with his friends a∣bout the marriage of his Cousin, and that he would write to her what he should do in it. Clarimond went up into the chamber where Lysis was, and said to him. You must needs confess that the moment wherein you began to contemn your for∣mer opinion was very happy to you; for it was no sooner heard that you would hearken to reason, but all the world are perswaded you will obtain your own wishes of Charite: Leonora, Angelica, Adrian, and Pernella are of your side; who can now do you any hurt? That very Charite, replies Lysis. You will find the contrary, says Clarimond.

Lysis fell afresh to consider of this, and yet he was extremely glad to understand that those who were most concern'd in his affairs were so favourable to him. When supper-time came, he sate down at table with the rest: But the shame which seiz'd him that he was so long abused by those in whom he had plac'd the greatest confi∣dence, had so cast him down, that he durst not speak a word. Adrian and his wife thought it a good sign, and conceiv'd he would thenceforward be more discreet;

so that the next day they return'd to Paris very well satisfied, promising him what∣ever he desired, on condition he would be no more a Shepherd. As for Clarimond, he thought that silence no good presage, and that it was to be fear'd he might fall out of one misfortune into another, and that his extravagance would turn to stupi∣dity. To remedy this, he thought it necessary he were withdrawn from those per∣sons who oblig'd him to so much fear and bashfulness. This design communi∣cated to Hircan, who thought it very convenient that Clarimond took Lysis and Carmelin to his own Castle.

They were no sooner gone, but Fontenay and his companions took their way for Burgundy, whither some business call'd them. They gave infinite thanks to Hir∣can, not only for their entertainment so long, but also for the rare diversions which by his means they had had. In the mean time Angelica told Charite, that it was re∣solv'd she should be married to Lysis. Her answer was, that it was only to abuse her, to bestow her on a man that was a laughing-stock where-ever he came. Angelica assur'd her, that for the future he would be wiser, and that nobody would perswade him to any further extravagances. She had no quarrel with his person, for his face was not so deformed as to frighten; and if all were as well in his mind, she would not be long entreated to make good what was undertaken.

Lysis being at Clarimond's, found that Montenor had sent from his house the cloaths he was accustom'd to wear in the City, which Anselme had not fogotten to preserve. Clarimond told him that he must put them on; and indeed they were more convenient for the season then the Shepherds habit. His Coat was all spotted and all torn, it could not possibly hold out in so many adventures; and it was with∣all so ill lined, that it could not defend him from the cold and rains which in the Autumn were somwhat frequent. He therefore took the Cloaths, which it was a long time since he had worn; but he was so long making himself ready, that it was easily perceiv'd he was not perfectly resolv'd to do what he did. I cannot dissemble, says he to Clarimond; it troubles me much to quit a garment that I was long ac∣custom'd to: I thought that the only wearing of it was a powerfull means to make me enjoy all the pleasures of this life. These opinions are hard to overcome. Are you not then yet converted? says Clarimond; have you not been a Shepherd long enough? I will bring one of the truest reasons in the world to convince you. Re∣member yourself, and you will find that in all your Books of Shepherdry, they only that are in Love are clad like Shepherds: As for those that are married, it is not said that they meddle with any Flocks. You must do so if you marry Charite, as I hope you will. 'Tis true, you are not yet married; but what will you be the worse to quit the habit of a Batchelour a little before, since your friends advise you to it?

This was a huge subtilty of Clarimonds: He would bring Lysis to reason by the authority of those ancient Authors, and bring him to wisdome by the maxims of folly. Yet Lysis smillingly said to him, Dear friend! you do not consider, that when it is not mention'd that those that are not married kept Flocks, it is only that they are not brought upon the stage so openly, in regard it is the Authors design to write only the history of young Lovers that are to be married. And when you find any fathers of families withdraw to their houses, 'tis by reason of their old age, or because they have children big enough to look after their sheep.

Clarimond hearing this, was afraid Lysis persisted still in his former imaginations; so that he roughly return'd him this answer. Whatever you can alleadge, it matters not: So it is, that I must have you in good earnest shake off this Shepherds habit. Is there any necessity to wear it to charm a Mistress? Consider, I pray, who hath been more fortunate in their Loves, you or Anselme: Did Anselme ever turn Shep∣herd to get Angelica? Had he done it, he had not obtain'd her yet; and for your part, as long as you are one, you shall never obtain Charite. Have I not told you, that the Maids in these times do not affect Shepherds? You that do all you can to please your Mistress, do you not perceive that you have done nothing but displeas'd her hitherto?

These reasons so seasonably press'd, and so easie to be apprehended, finish'd the work of Lysis his conversion. And to make him yet conceive the truth more fully, Clarimond seeing he said not a word, continued his discourse in this manner. What could you hope to do by cloathing your self thus like a Comedian, and living like a Romantick person? I will rub over your memory with the misfortunes have happen'd to you upon that occasion. You could never bring about any one of your Love-designs. When you desired to speak with your Mistress, or at least kiss the window whereon she learn'd, you fell down the ladder, having your nose bath'd in blood, so that you were taken by the collar for a thief and a murtherer. As for your disguising yourself like a Maid, you were never the better for it, it came to nothing; and so did your Metamorphosis. If it were possible a man could be chang'd into a Tree, what were he the better for it? You imagin'd it a matter of honour and ad∣vantage; and 'tis true, the Poets bring examples of a many persons favour'd by the Gods, which have chang'd forms: but do you not find also in the same Authors, that those who had committed the greatest crimes were in like manner transform'd? 'Tis therefore a question whether the Metamorphosis be a punishment or a reward; and the true judgment that may be given of it, is, that it ought every way to be taken as a most ridiculous absurdity. As for the imaginary deliverance of Pamphilia, wherein you thought you had done such miracles of valour, and merited a name and place amongst the most famous Heroes, whose hath lived till now; what wonders could you have done, had you been invusnerable as you imagin'd? 'Twas only your confidence of being so, that made you go so cheerfully to fight. It was the same case with Achilles and a many other Heroes, who could not be wounded, whom you thought to imitate. Be their adventures either fabulous or true, I shall laugh at all those that take them for valiant Champions, and compare to them all the Princes they would celebrate: For had they believ'd they could re∣ceive wounds, it would have discovered some natural cowardise in them, and they had never gone to the battel so resolutely. I believe you do not intend to play the Heros any more; but you will have me think that you cannot so easily take your leave of the Shepherd, because you would still continue your extravagancies, which you think are testimonies of your affection to Charite. What, will you still observe how many bits you eat, and how many times you drink; and that to honour Cha∣rite? Would you also eat nought but red things, and will you never be at ease till you are turn'd towards that quarter where you conceive your fair one to be? Will you henceforth observe your amorous conformities? will you eat nothing but what Charite likes? will you cough when she coughs; and if she have the eye bound up, will you have yours too? What other end can there be of this, but to make you be laugh'd at? A woman is never touch'd with any love for any of these fooleries: this is not the way to render services to a Mistress. All your past actions can signifie nothing to this purpose. And if it was your design to shew by that means how great your compliance was, I tell you, you will discover it much more, if you quit the Shepherds habit. That's the point I drive at, and I will make it cleerly appear to you where your great error lies; and that is, that you have not labour'd at all the principal conformity which is now required, since you are so much given to con∣formities. Charite is dress'd as an ordinary Maid of her condition, and you are clad like a Shewer of Puppet-playes. Since she is not clad like a Shepherdess, you should not go like a Shepherd.

Lysis having heard all this, was asham'd he had said any thing that should make Clarimond believe he would contradict him. The reasons that Gentleman had al∣leadg'd, wrought so powerfully on him, that he resolv'd to follow them for the fu∣ture. The fear he was in to displease Charite, kept his mind within compass; so that he suffer'd them to dispose his Shepherds habit where they pleas'd, so it should be never seen again. Having found also among his tromperies the Metaphorical Pi∣cture, and all those things he had so carefully preserv'd because, they had come from his Mistress, he of his own accord gave them to Clarimond to, do what he pleas'd with them. It was not fit he should see any more the badges of his ancient follies,

and his hope was he should shortly obtain of Charite favours of greater conse∣quence then those.

Since the bare reading of Romances had been able to put so many several imagi∣nations into him, seconded by the cheats and abuses had been put upon him, 'tis to be conceiv'd he was of a tender perswasible composition of mind, and that it was as easie to make him hate his extravagances, as it had been to bring him in love with them. He accordingly confess'd to Clarimond, that he heartily repented him of all he had done; but that it was impossible for him to refrain doing them, because that though he was not ignorant of the truth, yet he sometimes would deceive himself purposely to deceive others, so to make his adventures the more remarkable. As for example, he was never half perswaded that he was chang'd into a Tree, nor did he believe those other extraordinary things; but he pretended to believe them, that others might believe them too, and that there might be made of him a Romance that should make him eternally famous. He at length came to an excellent good humour and was more apprehensive of reason then he had ever been, as it happens that mens minds pass from one extreme to another: which Clarimond observing, told him that he was the most satisfied man in the world, to see him as other men. And thereupon to make a final riddance of all those corrupt imaginations, he made a discourse to him about the Divinity, representing to him that we should adore none but God alone, and not idolize his Creatures, which we must only love in order to him; whereas it seem'd he did not love God but for his Mistresses sake. He shew'd him, that the Eyes of a Beauty are no Suns, that give us day, or could reduce to ashes those things whereon they cast their rayes. And thus he gave him cleerly to see the errors he committed in relation to all Sciences, when he took the Poets for warrant and authority for what he said. For his further instructions, he permitted him to go into his Study, and there choose out some good Books.

They spent five or six dayes in such entertainments, in which time Anselme and Hircan neglected not to send daily to know what they did. They were very glad to hear that Lysis began to hearken to Reason; for it would have been a huge bar∣barousness, if after they had made as much sport with him as they could desire, they should still wish to see him in his extravagances. Clarimond being desirous that all might see what an excellent Physitian of the mind he was, would needs carry his Guest abroad to visit their common friends: but Lysis told him that he had no great desire to go, because he was sensible of the many follies he had committed before them, and fear'd they might jeer him. Clarimond made great protestations to him, to assure him there should be no such thing; and told him withall, that any one might easily conceive that a person in Love is not himself, and that his past actions were as much to be excus'd as the ravings of one in a burning feaver.

They went therefore in the first place to Hircan's, and thence to Oroutes's, where they were all amaz'd to see that Lysis was not the same man who had plaid so many ridiculous tricks before them. He was extreme sad, according to his dispo∣sition; and he was now of the same humour he was of in his infancie. Yet he spake when he was spoken to earnestly, but it was without any laughing, how pleasant soever the occasion might be. 'Tis the custom of those whose brains are too light, whether they laugh, or whether they rejoice, they do it in the heat of their sickness; their joy is but an extravagance, and their laughing from the teeth outward; but when their phrensie is somwhat over, they make no noise, and whatever is said is in∣different to them. I wonder at nothing so much, as that Lysis did not change his Love with his humour: but it is to be conceived his passion proceeded from another cause then that of his folly.

He secretly learn'd out the place where his Mistress was, and he was permitted to visit her. He demanded her pardon, if he had at other times importun'd her with extraordinary discourses, and that for the future the testimonies of his affection to∣wards her should be no other then what were according to the precepts of reason. She, who had been commanded by Lenora to receive him courteously, answered him, that she thought herself much honour'd in his Love, if so be his affections did

not exceed the limits of honesty. This gave him such satisfaction, that he imagined there were no more miseries ordain'd for him; nor indeed was he deceiv'd; for about this time Anselme received Letters from Adrian, by which he understood that all Lysis's friends, whereof some by chance knew Charite, consented he should marry her, provided he were fully delivered from his former imaginations. Anselme return'd him an answer to the great commeudation of Lysis, and desired him to re∣turn into Brie, and bring with him those he thought convenient to his Cousins wed∣ding. The messenger departed immediately, and Lysis assur'd of his happiness, was inexpressibly glad. Yet he said not much of it, because Clarimond had forbidden him to engage into unprofitable discourses when he were in company, lest through negligence he might slip into some of his ancient Romantick talk. He so extream∣ly lov'd this Gentleman, since he understood that he bore him such a sincere affecti∣on, that he was ever afraid to disobey him, nay when he but saw him, he corrected his behavior, and thought that all the imaginations came into his minde were super∣fluous; so that he held his peace for a good while after.

Two days after came Adrian, with two other of Lysis's Cousins. Lenoora en∣tertain'd them very kindely at Orontes's: When they saw their Kinsman, they thought they had never seen a wiser man; as indeed there was such a difference between what he had been, and what he was, that if he chanc'd to slip into some little imperti∣nence, they were so dull, that they could not perceave it. The contract of his marriage was pass'd without his notice, all he troubled himself with was to sign it. Adrian had the care to see it in form, he himself being so transported in his loves, that he could not descend to such low thoughts as relate to the goods of fortune. Charite had somewhat left her by her father, and besides that, Leonora gave her a house; which stood somewhat near that of Orontes. There it was resolved the new married couple should keep house together; for though Lysis would be no longer a Shepherd, yet would he not leave the Country. There was a great feast at their making sure, and the next day they were married: Though the company was not great, yet they were merry enough, but nothing all the while said to Lysis that might offend him; it being but a little while since he began to follow the common opinion of all other men, 'twould have been dangerous to put him into any dis∣quiet.

Carmelin seeing his Master married, wish'd himself the same happiness. Lysis having given him a small sum of money for his good and faithful service, Lisetta continued no longer in rebellion, but submitted. The next day they were married, and though he was but simple, and no great Clerk, Orontes made him Bailiff with∣in his Lordship, finding him able enough for that charge.

Adrian and the rest of Lysis's friends returned to Paris with Leonora and Anselme, who carried his wife with him. Orontes writ to them since, that the two lovers his neighbors liv'd a very comfortable life together, and that there wanted nothing to make them perfectly happy, but to finde Lysis some little office, for to exempt him of the taxes. When they had purchas'd him one, he thought himself in such a po∣sture as might defie misfortune, seeing himself a Country Gentleman, and the cloathes he wore of several colours pleas'd him no less then the Countrymans coat: yet whenever he heard the bleating of sheep, he could not but call to minde the false pleasure he once took to keep some. He sometimes as he read a Book, straid into the woods; but he had quite shaken hands with all Love-books, he medled now with none but Treatises of Moral Philosophy. Yet Clarimond perceiving that his minde receiv'd all impressions with too much vehemence, was afraid he would fall into some other new folly, and more particularly become a Ssoick or Cinick Philosopher. He had already read in Charron and some other Authors, that a man must take pains in the generation of children, and yet not give ones self bruitally over to it, and that there were some certain observations whereby to get fair chil∣dren, strait and witty. He would observe with Charite the Dict prescrib'd for that purpose, and his caresses and embraces were limited to the appointed time. But Clarimond desirous to keep him from being either superstitious or extravagant, rid

him of those fancies assoon as he perceiv'd him posses'd with them. He told him, he should laugh at those Philosophers, who though never married themselves, yet importune us with their fantastick notions of marriage; and moreover assur'd him, that to get perfect children, it was enough to live temperately, referring the busi∣ness to nature; and that when the children were born, good education perfected the rest.

Thus did Clarimond and Orontes alwaies divert him from things that were not commendable; and though a many came to see him out of design to put his follies afresh into his head, yet they prevailed nothing. I must needs confess that there happened to him adventures pleasant enough since his marriage, but his particular friends were the only witnesses of them, and it is not my design to make my history any longer. I must leave that to some other that will take the pains, that when se∣veral persons have employed their endeavors on the same subject, it may be judg'd who hath done best. All I have now to do, is to give you that account which is ever requir'd at the end of all Love-stories, which is to let you know what became of all the persons therein mentioned. Know therefore, that Philiris and Fontenay are married in Burgundy, that Polidor was kill'd in a duel, and that Meliantes is gone to travel. Montenor and Clarimond are still Bachelors. Leonor a is dead; and as for Hircan, Orontes and Anselme, they keep good house with their wives, and so does Carmelin.

You have now all; it was in my design to tell you of the divers fortunes of the Shepherd Lysis, according to the notes I had of them from Philiris and Clarimond, who it seems had not the leisure to put them into order. Lysis having read some part of this, was nothing troubled to see his adventures made publicke, because he believes such as they are, they will be a testimony of the affection he ever bore Charite; and that besides, it will be an example for youth not to regulate their lives according to those impertinences, which are contrary to the order of the world. But because I speak to you of him as one that is still alive, I am in doubt whether many who shall read his History, may not be guilty of a curiosity to go into Brie, to see if they can finde that so famous Lysis: Wherefore I give them notice, that henceforth they shall not need take the pains, and that possibly they may not finde him, because he is so chang'd, that he hath left off that very name he was call'd by when he was a Shepherd. And besides, why may they not distrust me? What know they whether I have not related a fable to them instead of a true History; or that I have not, to disguise things, and not discover the persons I have spoken of, as indeed I have, call'd them by other then their ordinary names, and mistaken Brie for some other Province?

The End of the Fourteenth and last Book.

FINIS.