To Monsieur de Savignac. LET. XLVI.

SIR, Either I have not well interpreted my selfe, or Monsieur de — hath not well understood me. I do ever value the me∣rits of Madam de Anguitar, and if it must be, that I must (by a second act) confirm that testimonie which J have given of her, J am readie to declare my self anew, and to commend once more a Lady that is Page  55 so praise-worthy. It is true, that for the interest of her honor, it will be something material, to understand the cause that made my intentions to be misconstrued, and that I lead you to the verie source of this jealousie; whereas, it seemed to certain Cavaliers, my friends, that J did too much approve of her singular humor, and frequent retirings, one of the most eloquent of them took a fancie to publish his dislike in this point; and to write a reproachful Letter unto me in the name (as he saith) of the whole Corporation of honest men. Wherein he pro∣claimes open warre against me in their name, as though I had con∣spired against fair Society; and calls me the Common enemy; the uni∣versally jealous man, the Tyrant to both sexes. He doth imagine that it is my intent to shut up in prison all fair and delectable things, for to punish curious eyes. He cries out, that I would fain abrogate the sweetest lawes of this Realm, and bring in the crueltie of that custom in Spain, where honest women are mewd up in Cages, and honest men adore but doors and windowes. From Madrid, he passeth to Con∣stantinople, and tells me in a great rage, that I am good for nothing but to be a Counceller of the great Turk, for to advise him to raise the walls of the Seraglio higher, and to double the Guard of the Sultana; Then he doth accuse me for a thousand mischiefs, and takes me for Him that invented the iron grates, the locks the vails and maskes: and for the author of all those things that oppose his intrusion and saucy curiositie. Insomuch that he imagines that I must render him a reason of the secrets and difficulties of all riddles; of the darkness of all ancient Oracles; of the Allegories of Poets, and of the Mysteries of all Religions. To make answer to farre lesse then this, it behoved me to studie a long Apologie; and (as ill luck was) when I received his Letter, I was not in the humor of making Books. Where∣fore Sir, I professe to you trulie, I chose rather to yield then defend my selfe, and abandon my Maxims to the verbosity of my good friend, rather then maintain them with the expence of so many words as he did plie them with: But if J be not deceived, there is a good deal of difference between my Maxims and the praises of Madam d' Anguitar; and he must take heed of confounding in the design that J have, that which I have distinguished in the Letter which I wrote unto Her. To say that She is one of the Perfections of the world, is an immoveable truth, for which I would sight all my life time: But to say that such Perfections must be sequestered from the eyes of men, is (I suppose) a probematical opinion, which I may revoke without prejudice to my own constancie, or to the worth of these Perfections. But on the con∣trarie, most will be apt to believe, that this will be sufficient amends, and just satisfaction for the injurie I did them, in condemning them to solitude and retirednesse; and will call it their revoking from exilePage  56 and releasing out of bondage. Thus Sir, I preserve still my first Design; and my commendations remain whole and intire among the ruines of my Maxims. Nay out of their demolitions, Trophies might be erected to the honor of Madam d' Anguitar, and a Theater built, where she might be gazed upon, by those that can but divine & guesse at Her; and that the Desart might no longer have such advantage over the City. This is not then to rebel against her Vertues, but to wish Her a more spacious Empire, and a greater number of Subjects then She hath had, nor to go about to eclipse her light, but to adjudge, that She should issue forth out of the Clouds, for the benefit and comfort of the Vni∣verse. I pitty those Criticks that take it otherwise; and am sorry that Monsieur — is fallen upon a thought so far distant from mine He might have understood me well enough, without putting me to the pains of interpreting my self; and might have seen (moreover) that though in this occasion I would not at all consider the interests of another, yet I should have considered my own at least. Doth he ima∣gine that I could have been perswaded to spoil at one dash, one of the dearest issues of my brain? and to bereave my selfe of the acknow∣ledgements of one of the greatest Personages of the world, who thinks her selfe in some measure beholding unto me? I am no such e∣nemy to my self, or so prodigal of the good that I have acquired. I do not mean to throwe dirt upon that piece, where I have bestowed so many and so rich colours; and believe not you, that I would have razed out (being thereunto intreated by none) those words that did no way mislike me; you that know how Heliodorus denied to do the like, though earnestly solicited thereunto, by a whole Councel. If you do me the honor as to make a journey to morrow to Balzac, I will tell you more; though negociating with an understanding so serene as yours, I think I have spoken enough already concerning it. This is