The French convert: being A true relation of the happy conversion of a noble French lady from the errors and superstitions of popery, to the reformed religion, by means of a Protestant gardiner her servant. Wherein is shewed her great and unparallell'd sufferings on the account of her said conversion; as also her wonderful deliverance from two assassines hired by a popish priest to murther her: and of her miraculous preservation in a wood for two years; and how she was at last providentially found by her husband, who (together with her parents) was brought over by her means to the embracing of the true religion, as were divers others also. To which is added, a brief account of the present severe persecutions of the French Protestant.

THE French Convert, &c.

IN Writing of the following Relation, wherein Injur'd Innocence and Oppressed Vertue does so Eminently Triumph over all the Rage and Ma∣lice both of Men and Devils, I shall not study to adorn my Stile with Flowers of Rhetorick, but lead the Reader by the Clue of Truth into the adorable Mysteries of Divine Providence; which are here display'd in such a Series of Wonders, as can scarce be Parallell'd. As an Introduction to which, I will a little consider how the Divine Goodness delights to bring Light out of Darkness, and makes even the Wicked Confound themselves in their own devices, that out of their evil designs he may bring good to pass. For as Joseph's being Sold into Egypt, and there falsly accused of Adul∣try, advanced him next to a Throne, and turned to the Shame of his accusing Mistress and Trea∣cherous Brethren; though at the beginning God meant it for good, that he might be Instrumental to preserve his Father and his Houshold alive, and turned the Mallice of the Patriarchs into a Bles∣sing: So the Miseries and Extraordinary Suffer∣ings of the Noble Lady, whose Story I am going to recite, was made use of by Divine Providence, as a means of the Conversion of her Husband, Pa∣rents, and many others, to the True Religion; which as she has often said since, has been a very ample, and glorious Recompence. But I shalll not anti∣cipate

what with more Satisfaction you will sind in the Relation it self; which take as follows.

In Britanny, one of the fairest Provinces of France, there lately liv'd Alanson, a Person of Noble Extraction, and of an Estate suitable to the Great∣ness of his Birth, and those Noble Qualities that Enrich'd his Mind: Who being a Lover of Mili∣tary Actions, was easily perswaded to serve his King in the Wars, where having an Eminent Command given him, he behav'd himself with that Bravery as gain'd him the Admiration of his Enemies, the Love of his Friends, and fresh Honours from his King, who took particular notice of his great Per∣formances▪ But in the Intervals of two or three Compaigns, he cast his Eyes upon one Deidamia, •• young Lady of Quality, not inferiour to himself for Birth, whose Beauty and Vertue were equally a∣tractive: To her he made his Addresses; and the Equality of their Birth, and the suitableness of their Dispositions, made his Conquest the more Easie; so that in a little time they were Contracted and Married, to their mutual Joy and Satisfaction.

This happy Couple having sor a whole Winter Enjoyed the Blessing of each others mutual Loves and Endeared Affections, without the least um∣brage of any interposing Cloud that might give an Allay to their Happiness; at length the Spring came on, and the Armies gathering together, Summon'd Alanson from the Repose he took in the soft Embraces of his Chaste and Loving Wife▪ to the field of War, to act his part again upon that Stage of Honour, wherein he had already acquir'd so much Reputation: But he never seemed so

unwilling to Court Fame abroad as now, since he must of necessity leave behind him the Dearest part of himself; he had many struglings and com∣bates in his Mind, which seem'd to be divided be∣tween Love and Honour; he was loth to leave his Lady, and yet unwilling to have his Reputation sully'd: And these different Passions in his Mind, caus'd such an Alteration in his Countenance, that it was taken Notice of by his Lady; who not knowing the Cause, was the more troubled at it. And therefore following him one day into the Garden, (whither he had retir'd to Consider with with himself what he had best to do) she earnestly prest him to let her know what it was that trou∣bled him; for she had for some time, she said, observ'd he was disquieted, but cou'd not tell at what; and she was fearful she might some way (tho' she knew it not) be the occasion of it; adding, Com∣mand me any thing a Wife can justly do, and I am all obedience. This tender Carriage of his Lady, added fresh fewel to the fire of his affliction, and made him still far more unwilling to leave her: Wherefore Cau∣sing her to sit down by him, he told her she was in∣deed the innocent Occasion of his trouble; for her great Love and Tenderness to him, had so Engag'd his heart to her in a reciprocal affection, that he knew not how to think of leaving her, tho' Ho∣nour loudly call'd him to the Field: His Lady, when he talk'd of leaving her, was hardly kept. from Swooning in his Arms, and cou'd not forbear saying, What! Must we part then! Ah! Wretched Deidamia! and straightways fell a Wceping: Her Tears did so prevail upon the Count, that Love had now obtain'd an intire Victory; and he Re∣solv'd

to stay at home with Deidamia; and there fore intreated her to dry up her Tears and be Comforted; for he had now come to a Resolution rather to undergo some hard Censures for staying at home, than by his going to the Camp, leave his Dear Deidamia disconsolate.—These kind Af∣surances her Husband gave her, gave her that sa∣tisfaction which soon shew'd it self in a Chearful Countenance. And the Endearing Expressions she gave the Count on this Occasion, made him conclude they both were happy in each others Love.—

But behold the Inconstancy of Worldly happi∣ness, and how little we can promise our selves of it here! We may indeed both purpose and re∣solve; but cann't secure our selves from Disap∣pointments: The footsteps of Divine Providence are often hard to Trace; hence it is that we are told by the inspired Penman, That the Ways of God are in the Deep, and his Paths in the great Waters, and his Footsteps are not known. And we see often, whatever pleasing Prospect of F••licit•• we have in View, one unforeseen Occasion, or sudden Turn of Providence, destroys it, and in a Moment, de∣prives us of that happiness which we had promis'd to our selves for many years: And yet these Chan∣ges, to those that fear the Lord, are so dispos'd and Order'd by God's Providence, that in the End they Evidently Work together for their good.—And thus it fell out in the instance before us: For whilst Alanson and his Deidamia delighted in each other, and were both happy in their Conjugal Af∣fection▪ an Accident fell out, that put him under a Necessity of going to the Camp; which was,

That a Colonels Place in the Regiment of Picardy being Vacant, a Relation of Alanson's at Court, out of a too Officious Kindness, put the King in mind of the good Services of Alanson, and desir'd his Ma∣jesty to bestow that Vacancy upon him: To which his Majesty (being sensible of his former bravery and good Service) readily Consented, and order'd his Commission to be sent him, which was done accordingly; When Alanson receiv'd this Commis∣sion from the Pursevant who brought it, he gave him a generous Reward for his Pains, but was not very well pleas'd neither with the New Honour his Majesty had given him, nor with his Kinsmans too Officious Kindness in procuring it; because it put him under a Necessity of parting from his Lady, which gave him a very sensible displeasure: But knowing that by this Commission he was Engag'd too far for a Retreat, his Care was how to make his D••id••mia as Easie as he cou'd; and therefore cal∣ling her to take a Turn with him in the Garden, and leading her into an Arbour cover'd with Jessamine, he thus began to tell her the Unwelcome News that had been brought him, My dearest Deidamia, let me conjure you not to be Troubled at what I am go∣ing now to tell you, but if you will oblige me, do it by shewing your Resolution and F••rti••ude of Mind; and yet I cann't but own, That our Resolves, like little heaps of Sand, are quickly brought to nothing; but the De∣crees of Heaven, like the Foundations of the Earth, are fix'd for over. 'Twas in this very Arbor, my dearest Deidamia, that I resolv'd to stay at Home with thee, and not return to the Compaign in Flanders; and I appeal to him who knows my ••eart, how firmly I in∣tended it; but see here, how I am for••'d against my

Will to break my Resolutions; (and with that, he shew'd her the Commission the King had sent him to be Colonel of the Rigment of Picardy) and now you see my Deidamia the Necessity that lies upon me to leave you for a time; but tho' our Bodies be divided, we will have yet one Soul, and Love, whilst Providence denies us to live together. And whilst I in the Field am fighting for my Countrey, you shall stay here, and Pray for my Success: And if it pleases God that I re∣turn, (which I don't doubt at all, for Heav'n I'm sure will hear your fervent Prayers) 'twill be a New ad∣dition to my Joy, to lay those Lawrels I shall win in Battel at Deidamia's Feet. Poor Deidamia heard this heavy News with a sad heart, but answer'd with a Piety and Prudence Worthy of her self, That since what happen'd was not of his seeking, but what the Providence of God had call'd him to, she thought it was her Duty, tho she cou'd hard∣ly do't without reluctancy, to acquiesce in the Di∣vine Disposal of all humane Actions, and wou'd En∣deavour to stifle her Resentments, rather than give him any further Trouble. Alanson being no less pleas'd with Deidamia's Prudence than her kind Affection, which he express'd by several Tender things he told her, apply'd himself to the getting read of his Equi••a••e, in order to his departure; and the Settling the Affairs of his Family. Order∣ing Antonio his Chaplain, who was a Fryar of the Or∣der of St. Francis, to say a solemn Mass for his Success in the Field, and the Protection ••f his La∣dy and Family in his Absence▪ Recommending his dearest Deidamia to the Care of Antonia his Chaplain, and Fronovius the Steward of his Hous∣hold, in these Words, To your Care in my absence, I

recommed the Safty and Welfare of my beloved Lady, the most vertuous and loving of Wives; and Charge you, as you expect to Answer it to God and me, be Obedient to all her Commands, Comfort and Cherish her in her Solitude, and see that all my Domestick pay the like exact Respects. This and much more they faithful∣ly promised to observe. Then giving Liberally to each Servant, and having notice that his Equipage was ready, and divers Gentlemen on Horseback waited to accompany him, he took his Solemn leave of his dear Deidamia, whose sad presaging heart was overcome with grief to that degree, that she could only speak these few Prophetick Words, Ah! my Dear Lord! may Heaven prevent my Fears! But my poor Heart fore-bodes that this will be a long and fatal Parting? To which the the Count reply'd, Do not cast down thy self, dear Deidamia, by the indulging of such Melancholly Fancies; but assure your self, I'll hasten my return as much as possible, and I will send to you as of∣ten as I can. And in the Mean-time shall com∣mit you to the Protection of the Almighty, the blessed Virgin Mother, and all the holy Saints and Angels; and so Embracing of her in his Arms, and Sealing his Affections on her Lips with gentle Kisses, he took his leave of her, and rid away; not think∣ing he had left an Innocent Dove to the Protection of two Ravenous Vultures.

It is not much to my Purpose to tell you how well he was received at the Head of his Command, by the Duke of Luxemburge, or what brave Exploits his Courage carryed him through, since neither Fame, nor the Publick News from Paris, have been wanting to speak his Commendation: I therefore

omit it, (unless in some Passages, where it will in the Thred of this amazing Relation, be necessary to mention some Particulars) and shall continue with the sorrowful Deidamia, who after his De∣parture, seemed to have banished all Comfort from her Breast; all that she found was in her Devotions and Prayers to Almighty God, for his Protection and safe Return, greatly affecting Solitude; and, as much as she could, avoided the Visits of divers Ladies who (as they said) came to make her Merry, and divert her Me∣lancholly, she being very well Beloved, both by the Nobility and Gentry, for her comely Carriage, modest Behaviour, sweetness of Temper, and Affa∣bility.

In the cool of the Day she usually made it her Business to retire into her Garden, Pensive and alone; it being by the care and Diligence of the Gardener, kept and ordered like another Paradise, stored with great Variety of choice Plants and Flowers, adorned with pleasant Foun∣tains and several delightful Arbours, shaded over with Inter-twining Jessamine, in one of which she and her absent Lord, had passed some Joyful, as well as Sad Hours, and at the Remembrance of them would sadly Weep, then Pray (according to the Custom of the Papists, who allow praying to Saints) to the Tutelary Saints for his Prote∣ction. And so drying up her Tears, would walk thence again, taking but little Rest in any place: But one time passing by a bed of Tulips, she espyed Bernard her Gardener (for so was he called) busie in Watering them, and erecting such as declin'd their drooping Heads, occasioned by the heat of

the Sun's too scorching Beams; she had often in this Man observed a harmless Native Innocence, accompanyed with Acute Ingenuity, (and indeed, a Gardener, who understands his Business as he ought to do, must be an ingenious Man) and therefore imagined it might administer to her some Advantage to hold discourse with him, in what related to the Mystery of Gardening, thinking it no Undervaluing, tho' he was her menial Servant; since she had often Read that Kings, Princes, and other great and wise Men, had Voluntarily become of this Occupation: That Adam, when Governour of all the World, was imployed in it by God himself; so that comming close to him whilst his Hands were busi∣ed at his Work; the Man by his Ear (his Back being towards her) being informed of some Bodys approach, suddenly started up, and seeing his beautiful Lady so near him, was a little surpriz'd, and would have retir'd to give her the more freedom in her Walks; but she prevented, him, by saying, Bernard, Pray don't let me hinder you in your Business; I came on purpose to observe your Dexte∣rity in Gardening: I see you mind it with a just Dili∣gence, though your Lord is absent; Madam, (Replyed he) I beg your Ladiships Pardon if I tell you I am n•• Eye-Servant, as well knowing I must give an Account to God, as well as to Man, if I am Negligent in what I promise to Perform, and am Intrusted with. Deidamia stood surpriz'd at the Mans plain, but ingenuous Reply; and changing somewhat the manner of her Discourse, asked him divers Questions about the Virtues, Nature, Quality and Production of Flow∣ers and Plants, &c. In all which he satisfied her to her admiration; by which she perceived him

better Learned in the Mysteries of Nature, than she expected from one of his Profession. And to be brief, she often held such innocent Conversation with him when at any time she found him busied in the Garden; being much delighted to hear him dis∣course how much of the Wisdom and Goodness of God might be learn'd from the Works of Creation; for he had a peculiar faculty of Spiritualizing his Employment; and making his Business serve, like Jacob's Ladder, to carry him from Earth to Hea∣ven. Which sometimes caus'd her ro reflect, That this Man, was something more than he appeared to be, (in which indeed she was not much mistaken) So that entertaining a good Opinion of him, she or∣der'd his Lodging to be chang'd for a better; and his course and homely Commons to be Enlarg'd, above what was usual to those of his Profession and Degree.

But now Antionio the Chaplain, (However he had appear'd like a Saint to his Master, began to show himself a Devil to his Mistress, & too plainly shew'd his cloven foot) for tho' above Fifty Years of Age, he had for some time harbor'd lustful desires towards the fair and Beauteous Deidamia, that he was now resolv'd to attempt her Chastity: And tho' her Ver∣tue and her spotless Chastity might very well have kept him from pursuing his unclean desires, yet he flatter'd himself with hopes of obtaining his End by corrupting her Judgment: In which he found him∣self very much mistaken, as the Sequel will declare. For the Divine Goodness had a further Work to do for Deidamia; who being altogether ignorant of what this Wretch design'd against her Honour, frequented her beloved Garden, as she us'd to do:

and one Evening, hearing the Gardener reading in a lonely Arbour where he thought himself se∣cure (for he had industriously conceal'd his being a Protestant, from any of the Family) her Curio∣sity to hear him, made her draw nigh so softly that he could not hear her: He was then reading the first Chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, from the 20th to the End of the 23th Verse, Viz. For the invisible things of him from the Creation of the World, are clearly seen, being understood by the Things that are made, even his Eternal Power and God-head; so that they are without excuse, because that when they knew God, they Glorified him not as God, neither were Thankful, but became vain in their Imaginations, and their foolish Hearts were Darkned: Professing themselves to be wise, they became Fools; and changed the Glory of the incoruptible God, into an Image made like to Cor∣ruptible Man, and to Birds, and four-footed Beasts, and creeping Things.

Having thus far Proceeded, he Paused, and with Eyes lifted up to Heaven, gave Glory unto God, That he had preserved him Blameless from these Offences against his Divine Majesty, which through Ignorance and Superstition had over-spread the greatest part of Europe: O Lord, continued he, I humbly beseech thee, as I have already suffered Persecution for thy Names Sake, and for the Sake of a good Conscience, so never let me Depart from the Ways of thy Truth, to change thy Incorruptible Glory into an Image made like Corruptible Man: And when he had said This, Tears stood in his Eyes, and his Words were succeeded by Sighs, and then by Silence.

Deidamia, who had all this while attentively

Listened, found something in her Mind, that made a suddain uneasy Alteration, and thought to have gone away Undiscovered; but then again, her Zeal for the Romish Religion, which she thought he had Reproached, by detesting Image-Worship, carryed her so far, as she resolved to give him a sharp Re∣primand; least he, persisting further, until disco∣vered by others, might Ruin himself, tho' her Goodness and gentle Nature was not for working him any Injury by revealing it. But never was Man more Surpriz'd than Bernard, when he saw her, whom at that time of Day he little Suspected, as not being Usual; yet collecting his scattered Senses, he arose from his Seat, and withall endeavoured to hide his Bible under his Coat, thinking she had been newly come, and might neither have heard him Read, nor seen his Bible. But she in a frowning manner, contrary to the wonted sweetness of her Temper, Commanded him to Deliver it to her, that the Flames might conceal his Fault; and told him she would not, for that time, discover his be∣ing conversant with a Book so strictly by the Church Prohibited to the Layety; For, continued she, it is enough that we Believe as the Church Believes, without further Dispute, or puzling our selves with those Scruples and Niceties, which in all probability we may make a salse Construction of, and wrest even those Scriptures that are the Rule of our Faith, to our own Damnation.

This smart Discourse, and the Frowns in the Fair Deidamia's Countenance, did not in this Case so much daunt Bernard, as in another of less Con∣cern it might have done; but with some assurance he Reply'd, Ah Madam! I little thought of being

Surpriz'd by you at my Devotions; but since I am, I cannot grant what you demand; rather you may Command my Body to the Flames, and as a will∣ing Martyr I will sooner go, than tamely betray the Cause of God, in delivering up his holy Word to be Consumed, in which is contained all things necessary to Salvation; and it would be in me an apparent Contempt of that Salvation, should I vo∣luntarily, or through fear, cast it from me. As to your saying, Madam, That the Church has pro∣hibited the Layety the use of this Sacred Book, e∣specially in a known Tongue, I readily Grant it; but, O most Vertuous Lady, you little know their Policy in that, it is not that they fear or care what mis-Constructions men make of it; but because it is, like Arrows in the hand of a Giant, strong a∣gainst their Worldly Interest, plainly discovering their Errors, gross Idolatries,—He would have proceeded, but heat of Zeal prompted her hastily to Interrupt him, saying, Surely, Bernard, you are Distracted; or else, what's worse, a Heretick: I took you to be Wiser and more Reasonable when I dis∣cours'd you the other Day. Truly, Madam, re∣plyed he, As for my being in my right Senses, I bless Almighty God, he has in his Mercy hitherto continued them to me; and for my being a Here∣tick, Pardon me, if St. Paul answers for me, when he was Accus'd before Foelix, saying, But this I con∣fess unto thee, After the way which they call Heresie, so Worship I the God of my Fathers; believing all things that are Written in the Law and the Prophets. Upon this, Deidamia, who by Nature was all Goodness, Gentleness, and Assableness, began to moderate her Anger, and to consider a little what he had said;

yet her Zeal for the Religion she professed, made her mildly Rebuke him, and lay before him the Danger he was in, if his Opinion was discovered; bidding him be Cautious and Wise in what he did; though for her Part he need not fear but she would lock up what she had Discovered, in her Breast, and it should pass no further; and so departing, left him in some Confusion.

Deidamia retiring to her Chamber, began to Consider on what had Passed, and remembred she had often Wept in her tender Years, when she heard the Cruelties the Roman-Catholicks used to∣wards the Hugonots, or Protestants, in France; and disapproved of their Persecuting Spirit, as not of God, whose chiefest Attribute is Mercy, tender Com∣passion, and Forgiveness, when on the Contrary, she found those who made Religion so much their boast, so very Cruel, that far from the Instance of our Saviour's refufing to call for Fire from Heaven to Consume those that had injuriously and despight∣fully used him, they made their very Worship and Devotions a snare, to bring those under their cruel Handlings, who had in no wise Offended them, but in being separated from them, and moving accor∣ding to the Dictates of their Consciences. She had likewise Observed the Harmlesness and Inoffensive manner of Living in the Persecuted, and often shewed some Dislike of the Loosness and Unchristi∣an Practices of the Persecutors; so that although she had a good Opinion of the Romish Religion, as having been brought up in it from her Infancy, yet had she not so of many of the Professors of it, who apparently Derogated from the ways of Vertue, and seemed to Encourage Vice.

This wrought some Labourings in her Mind, through the Gracious Operation of the Holy Spi∣rit; and in her Night-Thoughts more Seriously reflecting on many Things, and Particularly on the Gardener's Expression out of St. Paul's Words to Foelix the Governour, inferring from thence, That it must be the Sincerity of the Heart towards God, more than the shew or outward Name, or Profes∣sion of any Religion, that renders the Person ac∣ceptable in his Sight. In the midst of these Cogi∣tations and Debares within her self, she sound some∣thing (as 'twere by an over-ruling Power) strongly move her to a Desire of further Conversing with Bernard, about the Fundamentals of his Religion; which by the Popish Priests, as well in their Pulpits, as private Conversation, had been represented so Odious, Damnable, and to be Detested.

The Morning no sooner summon'd the Gardener to Visit the Flowers and Plants, & perform his usual Task in Watering and Ordering them, but Deidamia, who had taken little Rest that Night, arose; and having performed her Orisons, and then refresh∣ing her self with a moderate Refection, took an Op∣portunity between that and Dinner-time to enter the Garden privately, at a Door that opened into it from her Apartment; and to Screen the better what she intended, from prying Eyes, took divers turns, and Gathered Posies of Flowers, and then Fanning her self, as if the Heat offended her, pas∣sing many Winding Alleys, over-spread with plea∣sant Shades, she came to the before-mentioned Arbour, and again surprized the Gardener in his Meditations: The Man was not under any Conster∣nation at her coming, but rising and Bowing low,

would have Departed, out of good manners to give her the sole Freedom of that pleasant Bower; but she laid her Commands on him to stay, saying, She had considered of his former Discourse, & had made it her Business to find him out, that he might give her some better Reason for the Opinion he held, than yet he had done.

His Modesty, and the humble Thoughts he con∣ceiv'd of himself, would scarce give him leave to sit down, thongh she often Commanded him so to do; but at last he Complyed, and then she asked him. Ʋpon what Ground and Foundation the Basis of his Religion was fixed?

Gardener. It is Founded on the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament, which were Written by Men, inspired by the Holy Ghost, and given for our Instruction and Learning; it is only the Word of God that can Warrant the Truth of any Professi∣on in Religious Matters; and that we Protestants (through God's Assistance) Labour to Conform, and Live up to.

Deidamia. Ay, but you may be Mistaken in the misin∣terpreting the Scriptures, and so fall into gross Heresies, as our Church charges you; and therefore has strictly Forbid the Layety of our Communion to meddle with them, least like Weapons put into the Hands of Idiots, or Madmen, they injure themselves and others thereby.

Gard. Ah Lady, shall I be free, and deal Plainly with you in this Point?

Dei. With all my Heart, let me Hear what you can say in Answer to it?

Gard. All Scriptures are given for our Learning; God in willing we should know his revealed Will, that we may be the better Enabled to perform it.

St. Paul commends the Bereans, & calls them Noble, because they searched the Scriptures, to see whe∣ther the things they heard were so or no; and we have many Commands for this; as, Seek ye the Book of the Lord and Read, Isa. 34. 16. They were more Noble, in that they searched the Scriptures daily, Acts 17. 11. Let the Word of God dwell richly in you, Colloss. 3. 16. From a Child thou hast known the Scriptures, 2 Tim. 3. 15. Take the Sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God, Eph. 6. 17. And many others that I might mention which are to be found in the Scriptures; and this not commanded to Some, but to All that seek Salvation.

Dei. Certainly if our Church had seen this fit, they would not have denyed it; but being Dangerous to Souls, it ought to be Restrained.

Gard. It is indeed Dangerous to break God's Commandments, and to teach Men so to do, and to make the Word of God of none Effect by Hu∣mane Tradition. We know the Woes Christ pro∣nounced against the Pharisees for these things.

Dei. Why who are Guilty of this? The Church of Rome, the Holy Catholick Church, as it has many Ages been Stiled, is surely Ʋnspotted of such Crimes.

Gard. I wish I could say it was not, but it deep∣ly is Guilty, as in many other Particulars, so most Eminently in this, That it professes no Man is ob∣liged to receive the Scriptures as the Word of God, or to believe any of it, but for the Testimo∣ny of your Church; and to Awe Men unto such a Belief, threats of Damnation are used. As well as the Magistrates Swords, and cruel Torments by In∣quisition; & indeed it is not done without Ground: This is done to hinder prying in to their gross Ido∣latries,

Errors, and Superstitions, Derogatorie to the Scriptures and express Command of God.

Dei. Sure you are besides your self: Nor can you prove this; but being fallen from the Church, do this only in Prejudice and Spight, to lay a Stain upon its Virgin Innocence.

Gard. No; it is apparent from the Word of God, and even from Reason it self, in those that will Consider, and are not blinded with Ignorance, which your Church in her Sense truly stiles the Mother of Devotion.

Dei. Can any such thing be in a Church that is In∣fallible? and to prove that it is so, it is said to be Built upon St. Peter; he is the Rock spoken of; and this Rock doth, together with St. Peter, include his Suc∣cessors, and the Church Built on this Rock (that is united to, and built upon the Pope) is Infallible; for it is said, The Gates of Hell shall not prevail a∣gainst it.

Gard. Pardon me, Lady, If I say There is no Agreement among the Church-Men about this In∣fallible Judge; some will have it the Pope, some a General Councel, and others both; none of vour Writers having yet Concluded on it. However, these Words are Perverted, for it is more Probable that not Peter's Person, but his Doctrine or Confession concerning Christ, is the Rock upon which the Church is built: Scripture is its best Interpreter; it is not Peter but Christ is the Foundation of the Church, as here in my Bible you may see, by the 28th Chap. and 16th Verse of Isaiah, compared with 1 Pet. 2. 6, 7, 8. Which you may please to Read; [which she did] It is moreover expresly said, 1 Cor. 3. 11. Other Foundation can no Man lay, but

that, that is layed, which is Jesus Christ. And this is the more considerable, because he speaks against those that made the Apostles to be Foundations, saying, I am of Paul, another of Apollos, or Cephas; and if this is spoke of Peter, no more is said of him here, than is spoke of all the Prophets and Apostles, Ephes. 2. 20. Ye are built upon the Foun∣dation of the Apostles and Prophets.

Deid. Well, I am not much Learned in this Mystery; but, Pray, what as Erronious can you assign in our Worship, or any other thing the Church holds as absolutely Necessary?

Gard. The paving Divine Adoration to Angels, and Saints, expresly contrary to God's Commands, and Derogatory to his Honour, who alone ought to be Worshipped in Heaven and Earth; and to Worship any other, either Saint or Angel, or any Creature, is Idolatry, and a breach of the Second Commandment.

Deid. Nay, not too hasty; We do not Worship the An∣gels and Saints as God, with the highest Worship, which is only Proper to God; but with with an Inferiour kind of Religious Worship, that they may Present our Supplications to him.

Gard. There is no Intercessor or Mediator but Christ Jesus, who is appointed to perform that Office; If any man want Wisdom, let him ask of God, James 1. 5. Neither of Saints, nor Angels. Come to me, saith our Saviour, and I will in no wise cast you out. This free Invitation shows us he alone is to re∣ceive our Petitions, and present them to his Fa∣ther. There is also Image-Worship brought Cun∣ningly in by Priests, to gain Worldly Advantage, and pretended Miracles, to draw the Ignorant to

pay their Devotion more at one Place than at a•• ••o∣ther, imposing on the Ignorant for Lucre sake. I could say much more, but I fear to Offend you.

Deid. No, you do not: But let us come nearer to the main Controversie; What think you of Transub∣stantiation? Is not Christ Corporally present in the Sacrament?

Gard. It is a Misrepresentation of our Saviour's Words, for if he had so meant as the Church of Rome holds it, when he brake the Bread he must have held himself in his own Hands, and Eat him∣self, yet still sit whole and entire at the Table; his whole Body must be in the Mouth of every Commu∣nicant at once, and that Body in Millions of Places at a time, broken and unbroken, and be subject to Putrifaction; and therefore the Words, This is my Body, doth only intend, This doth signifie my Body; and upon the same Account our Saviour is called, a Door, a Rock, a Vine; yet none can be so void of Understanding, to believe he was turned into any of these; and therefore when he brake the Bread, and gave the Cup, he did it only that when Christi∣an Congregations were met on solemn Occasions to Celebrate his Worship, they should do it in Re∣membrance of him, till his coming in Glory at the last Day, as the immediate Words explain; and it is Absurd to believe that the Priest's uttering a few Words over a Wafer, can make it a God, or that Body offered on the Cross.

Deid. You amaze me: But Pray what do you hold about Purgatory? Is there such a Place where Souls are to endure their Purgation after Death, that go not immediately to Heaven; and by Masses and Prayers, may be released sooner or later?

Gard. It is a Tradition lately brought in, and with it hath brought much increase of Wealth to the Church. The Word of God allows only Hea∣ven for those who shall be made Vessels of Mercy; and Hell for those whose Sins have provoked him to cast them down to those dismal Regions of Sor∣row, and Eternal Woe: No Prayers after Death being available.

Deid. These Notions are as New as Strange to me. Have you any Authentick Proof for this?

Gard. Yes; The revealed Word of God is a Sacred Proof beyond all Denyal: The Rich M••n in Hell lifted up his Eyes, being in Terment, Iuke 16. 23. They shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac. and Jacob, in the Kingdom of Heaven, but the other shall be cast into utter Darkness, where shall be Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth Matth. 28. 12. He that Be∣lieveth shall be Saved, and be that Believeth not shall be Damned, Mark 26. 16. Here is no such thing as a Purgatory to be found; it is only the Blood of Christ that purgeth us from our Sins; and from all Uncleanness of Flesh and Spirit, to present our Souls Blameless and Unspotted to his Father: By this I understand those that Dye in the ••ord need not our Prayers, and those that Dye in their Sins no Prayers can avail them; for in the Grave there is no Repentance: As the Tree falls, so ••t must lye, Whether it falls towards the North, or towards the South, where it falls there it must lie. There is on∣ly two Extreams, North, and South; no Middle way, or Purgatory for it to fall in. And as Death leaves us, so Judgment will assuredly find us.

He would have Proceeded, but she stopt him, saying, Pray how long have you been of this Opinion?

Gard. Ever since God was Pleased to Enlighten me with his Grace, to be at••entive to his holy Word, and to be Guided by it.

Deid. Was you ever then of the Church of Rome?

Gard. In my younger Years I was; but through Mercy, being made Sensible by the Scriptures of the Corruptions and Errors of that Church, by the Assistance of a worthy Divine, I hope with St. Paul, Nothing shall be able to Separate me from the Love of God, which is in Christ Jesus. I will not offend your Ladyships chaste Ears with the ••istory of the Debaucheries and wicked Lives of divers Popes, and most of the Clergy; but will Pray Hea∣ven to desend you from either t••eir Lust or Re∣venge▪ And since I have by a free Confession put my Life into your Hands, I humbly Submit it to your Goodness, to—

Here again she interrupted him, and Demanded, Why the Religion he Professed was called the Prote∣stant Religion?

To which he Reply'd, As for being so called, it is to distinguish it from that of the Romish; it came from several Princes and Cities of Germany, who upon the Preachings of good Men, and their Ex∣emplary Lives, Protested against the Usurpations of the Romish Church and it's Errors. That it was no New Doctrine, but the Truth of Primitive Christi∣anity, Confessed, Asserted, and Purged from the Corruptions of Popery, taking the revealed Will of God for it's Guide.

At this Deidamia Paused a while; and then ta∣king his Bible looked over the Sacred Proofs he had turned down in order; and her Colour went and came so, that he easily perceived her Mind was

labouring under some Difficulties, and so giving it him again, she went away without speaking a Word.

This somewhat perplex'd the Gardener, as fear∣ing she was Displeased with what he had said; but her sending for him privately to her Chamber the next Morning, under the Notion of bringing her some choice Flowers, banish'd all Fear in him; when they two being only left together, she gently led him into her Closet, and shutting the Door to be more Private, said, O Bernard, (fetching a deep Sigh) your Yesterdays Discourse has much broken my last Night's Rest; I have been Medi∣tating on it, and find abundance of Reason in what you say; you have (as St. Paul said in another Case) almost perswaded me to be of your Perswasion: I wish to God, most Vertuous Lady, (Replyed he) I might be an humble Instrument in Gods hand, to do any thing that may redound to his Glory and the Good and Welfare of your Pretious and Im∣mortal Soul, without hazarding your Temporal Quiet and Peace, or exposing you to any Danger; though, for a Crown of Life and Immortality, all Earthly things are to be Despised; and the holy Apostle accounts all this World's Good but as Dross and Dung, in comparison of enjoying Christ Jesus. Well, (said she) this is my Aim, and if God enable me with his assisting Grace, I hope, through his Mercy, to attain it. I have indeed, (contiuued she) to my great Grief, observed the Loose and Pro∣phane manner of Living of those that prosess our Religion, alledging that a Confession, with Absolution, and some other Works, will Purge them from their Sins, and gain them that Blessedness in the End, which I could never Heartily believe they

would obtain by them: And since I have more seriously Considered God's Word, expresly to the Contrary, I cannot believe that any thing but sin∣cere and unfeigned Repentance in the course of an uspotted Life, can purchase (through the Merits of my Saviour) those endless Glories and transcen∣dant Blessings that God has promised to poor Mor∣tals.—She would have Proceeded, but the falling Tears stopt her Utterance, and Bernard had an inward Rejoycing to see her brought to this Pass; whereupon he Comforted her with good Ad∣vice, and the Cordials of God's Mercies and Pro∣mises. In brief he had made her sencible of the Errors she had been brought up in, and then o∣pened (from Point to Point) the Cheat of preten∣ded Miracles, and Relicks, the imposing on People with Pardons and Indulgences to get Money; the Whoredoms, Murthers and Incests of many Popes, Cardinals, and Prelates of the Romish Church; their Unreasonableness in prohibiting Priests Mar∣riage, which is immediately appointed by God, and the allowing them by Canons and Decrees the Em∣braces of Concubines, or to commit adultery, ex∣presly contrary to the Command of the Almighty, for as much as he has expresly said, Those that do these things shall not inherit Eternal Life.—He would have proceeded, but hearing the sound of Feet coming up Stairs, she hastened him down a back way with so much Precipitation that he left his Bible behind him, which she luckily seeing, Locked up in a Scrutore.

I have told you before, That Father Antonio the Priest, forgetting his Function, Duty and Distance, gave way to his unruly and and lawless Passion,

and was then blundering up-Stairs to find her in Private, having almost flustered himself with Wine on Purpose either to be the more Confident in his wicked Design, to tell her the Story of his Nauseous Love, or rather Lust; or, that if being Reproved, he might have some slender Excuse for his Im∣pertinency, and lay (as too many do) the blame of their Folly on that which is rather an Aggra∣of their Crime, i. e. their Drunkenness; and so Surprising however he came, that putting his Nose over the upper step just as the Gardener posted out at the private Door, he had a Glimps of the back-parts of his Garments, as it afterward appear∣ed; but at that time took no notice of any such thing. Deidamia seeing Antonio coming towards her in a very Pleasant Humour, Demanded, with a modest Decency, what Occasion brought him thither to Disturb her Retirement?

Ah (said the impudent Priest, who could not long keep down his boiling Passion) your two fair Eyes, sweet Lady, like Load-stones, have drawn me to you; that beauteous tempting Face of yours has made me forget my self, with my Duty to my Lord and the Trust he resposed in me. Why certainly, said Deidamia, (calling in her Patience to bridle her Passion) you are beside your self, Antonio—What mean you by this kind of Discourse? If I am beside my self (replyed he almost Crying) your fair self is the ••••••se of it, whose Beauties, like Arrows, have Wounded my Heart and sickned my Brain; I wish I had never seen such Amiableness in Woman-kind; but since I have been so Ʋnfortunate as to be your Fettered Captive, take some Compassion on me, and ease my Sufferings. What Suf∣ferings? Replyed Deidamia, Frowning? or, What

can be the Sense of all this loose stu••••? Why them (Replyed he) to be Serious, in plain Terms I Love you; and that so Passionately that unless you Condescend to make me suitable Returns, I shall have no Peace nor Quiet; but must be Miserable and Wretehed Eter∣nally. Then (said she) be you so: What have you seen of any Loose ••isbecoming Behaviour in me, that you should dare speak thus to me? This, like a Thunder-bolt, struck him Mute; when smoothing her Brows, and growing a little Calmer, she said, Come, come, Arnonio, I took you for a∣nother Man; you profess Sanctity, and admonish others to lead a holy Life; is this Pretention then Real, or it is only Feigned, to try my Vertue? I Protest, said he, lifting up both his Hands, it is Real, and I cannot help it. Why, said she, would you Commit so great a Wickedness if you might, and make your self Guilty of a Crime so Henious? Ah Lady, replyed he, if that be all, I can Absolve you by the Power given me from the See of Rome: Consent but to let me enjoy you, your Pennance shall be always easie; I'll get a Dispensation for your Marriage Vows from the Pope, with Pardons, Indulgences, or any thing, For Sins past, and those that are to Come: Nay, I'll do any thing, so I do not fall under your Dspleasure; Let me alone for the Rest, and—

This Insolence so much Displeased the Vertuous Lady, that she could hear no more, nor bear it any longer; but Commanded him out of her Presence: Yet could not be rid of him, till she Threatned to call up the rest of her Servants. Whereupon he went Muttering away; and for two days after, as much as possible he could, he shunned coming into her Presence; which much pleased her; for

she could not behold him but with Horror and Detestation.

This Attempt however, in one Sense, (through the over-ruling Providence and Goodness of God, who is wonderful in Counsel, and excellent in Work∣ing, and can make the greatest Wickedness of his Creatures, serve the Purpose of his own Glory) worked to her Advantage; for she Believed now all true which the Gardener had told her, about the Wicked Debauched Lives of the Romish Clergy, since this Villanous Priest had not Scrupled to proffer the Pop's Pardon for no less than Adultery, and that before it was Committed; by which means or Encoaragement, she plainly saw it must Consequently be that they frequently tempted easy and Ignorant People to the Commission of many Sins: Therefore she resolved to leave these blind Guides, and take the Word of God for her Leader and Instructor; for earing to come to Confession or hear Mass, sometimes upon Pretence of Indispo∣sition, and at other times Purposely going Abroad, at the usual times of either; and holding some other Conferences with the Gardener, which (as to Particulars) for Brevity's sake I must of Neces∣sity pass over.

She found in her self a strong Aversion to the Religion she had been brought up in; and having procured a Bible in the French Tongue, took such Delight in Reading it, that whenever she had time to Retire, it was not out of her Hand; yet she kept this as Secret as possible and not being ready at it her self, got the Gardener to turn her down such Proofs as were the strongest Arguments against the Errors of Popery, & where the Abominations of the

Mystical Babylon was Pointed at. This he Joyfully did, and gave Praise to God, who had made him In∣strumental in so good a Work; though he was not Ignorant his Life was liable to Pay for it, if it were Discovered: She likewise layed aside her Beads and Crucifix, Conversed no more with Rosaries or the Legends of Pretended Saints; and though she found some Temptations and Fears at the beginning, yet frequently Praying to God, she over-came Satan's Wiles, and found abundance of Joy and Comfort enlightning her Soul, so that she could not forbear breaking out into Raptures of Praises and Thanks∣giving, for the wonderful Change (by so Strange and Unexpected a Means) wrought in her Soul.

Whilst this Vertuous Lady and the Gardener held their private Correspondence, in Discoursing of the things of God, and incouraging and Ex∣horting each other to Perseverance and Stedfast∣ness in Truth, Antonio and Fronovius equally burn∣ing with Lustful desires to enjoy the tender Beauties of the fair Deidamia, were Plotting and Contriving how their Lawless designs might best be brought about; though each Plotted by him∣self; (for as yet they were Ignorant of each o∣ther's Passion.) The Villanous Priest (as you have already heard) had been Repulsed with In∣dignation by the Chaste Lady, which inwardly tor∣mented him, and brought him almost to his Wits end; but the other (Fronovius) had made no try∣al of her Virtues, and waited a savourable Oppor∣tunity to do it; and therefore he Thinks, Medi∣tates, and casts many things in his Mi••d, till at last (his Passion embolding him) he resolved to break the Ice with a Letter; and if she took no Notice

of that, to Second it with his Personal Address; but how he should do this with Privacy and Safety, he was at a stand for a time; for he feared to trust any Body to deliver it, least his Criminal Love should take Air; and to Deliver it himself would look too Dastardly, as if he was not Capable, or at least durst not Speak for himself; however, in a little while he met with a fit Opportunity; for Deidamia accidentally droping her Handkerchief as she passed through a large Gallery that led to her Apartment, he carefully took it up, and folding up his Letter in it (which he had ready Sealed by him) he gave it to her Gentlewoman to give it to her Lady, telling her he found it in the Long Gallery; the Gentlewoman knowing the Handkerchief to be her Ladies, immediately carried it to her; who received it from her without knowing any thing of a Letter being in it; and afterwards acciden∣tally taking the Handkerchief out of her Pocket, the Letter dropt out upon the Ground, which she taking up, and looking on the Superscription, was extreamly surpriz'd ro find it Directed to her Self; and hastily opening it, was much more so, to find the Contents thereof to be as followeth:

PArdon me, most Lovely Deidamia, if your Beauty makes me forget the Station I am in, and im∣••oldens me to own a Passion I have Laboured in vain ••o hide; to be brief, Dear Lady, I am so Captivated ••y your Charms and singular Perfections, that I am ••onstrained to say, I Love you infinitely above all Mor∣al Creatures; and since it appears to me Ʋnreasona∣••le any one Man should Monopolize so inestimable a ••reasure, give me leave to Hope; and don't suffer me to

Languish and Dye, but render the Balm of your Kind∣ness to Cure t••e Wounds which your bright Eyes have made in your otherways Wretched Servant,

Fronovius.

The Reading of t••••s Letter fill'd her with Blu∣shes, Anger and Amazement, at the unparallell'd Boldness and Villany of the Author of it, and at first was resolving to commit it to the Flames, or to Tear it in Pieces; but on second Thoughts, she laid it up in her Close••, where she Vexed and Fretted herself th•••• she was thus left amongst such ungrate∣ful Wretches, that dared so much to suspect her Vertues, and measure them by their own wicked and filthy Inclinations, as to Presume she would Defile her Marriage-Bed; being more Grieved for this Discovery than the former; for she knew the Priest had something of the Libertine in him, but this Man she had always held to be Honest and Ver∣••uously, inclin'd till now; and to him she thought to have discovered Antonio's Folly, if he persisted in it; that by Shame and Reproofs he might have Reclaimed him. But now she scarce knew who to trust; and could not therefore but Tremble at the Apprehensons of some Violence that might be of∣fered her from those Lustful Miscreants, whose sight now very much displeased her. She thought once or twice of Displacing them; but found their Au∣thority in the Family was so great, that in her Lord's Absence she could not do it: Whereupon she fell on her Knees to Implore God's Mercy and Protection, Commending her self wholly to his Care and Pro∣vidence, and begging of Him to be her▪ Guardian and Protector.

Though Deidamia's Mind on these Surprizing

Attempts on her Honour, was variously Tossed, she at last came to a settled Resolution Prudently to Conceal what had passed, at least till her Lord came Home, for fear of Scandal and Disturbance: Yet Fronovius might well read in her Countenance wherever he came into her Presence, that she had read his Letter, and how she resented it; which made him struggle to overcome his Passion, but in Vain; for like Oyle thrown on Fire, the Oppo∣sition his lewd Desires met with, made them burn the fiercer; so that he resolved to find an Oppor∣tunity to throw himself at her Feet, and discover his Passion to her by word of Mouth; and whilst he waited for a convenient Time and Place to do it, he perceived the Gardener often to come in and go out very chearful, as highly Pleased and Contented; and that though he only carryed her Fruits and Flowers, yet his Frantick Passion and Jealousie made him believe there was something more in it. Antonio the Priest had also observed the like, and had much the same Sentiments, which emboldened them the more to Persist in their wic∣ked and unclean Desires, and to continue to Per∣secute the chaste Lady with their detested Proffers of lawless Love; concluding, that if one of so low a Rank could be in Favour, they in time could not miss of obtaining what they sought; and so blinded with Passion, and pursuing what they aimed at (though, as has been said, unknown to each other) they kept a watchful Eye upon the Actions of Dei∣damia, whose Mind was taken up in Contempla∣ting the Divine Perfections of him who is Fairer than the Children of Men, being every day more confirmed in the Truth of her Religion, blessing

and praising God that by so wonderful and unex∣pected a means had brought her out of Darkness and Error into the marvellous Light of his Truth, and Engaged her Heart to Embrace and Entertain it above her chiefest Joy; partly looking on the Trouble she had from Antonio and Fronovius, those Brethren in Iniquity, as Temptations or Trials to Confirm her the more, by overcoming them, in the Doctrine she had so lately Embraced; in which she firmly resolved to Persevere against all Temp∣tations whatever.

But whilst these things passed, Fronovius had re∣ceived no other answer to his Letter, but Deidamia's Angry and much changed Countenance towards him, which he would not take for an absolute Re∣pulse, and therefore was resolved to have her positive Answer: To obtain which, as Deidamia was one Morning leaning upon the Window in her Chamber, and looking into the Garden, he stole softly up-Stairs, and was got into her Chamber just behind her, before she heard him, when sud∣denly turning about and seeing him in a Dejected Posture, she was very much Surpriz'd and Trem∣bled at the sight; whilst he by many Words endeavour'd to shew the Greatness of his Passion; but having somewhat recollected he•• Spirits, she with an angry Countenance spake to him thus: Why, how now, Fronovius? What Business have you here, thus to steal into my Chamber Ʋuawa••es? This is such an Effronted piece of Impudence and Rudeness as better becomes a Thief than the Steward of my Hous∣hold; and yet the filthy Errant that you come on, is far ••••ere Criminal than your coming: What have you ever ••en of Lightness in my Carriage that should make yo••

thus Audacious, or give you the least Hope to succeed in your Ʋnlawful and Wicked Desires? I command you to be gone: and know that if you persist in your Impu∣dence and Folly, I will speedily take those Methods, that shall issue in your deserved Shame and Confusion.

He would have Replied, but she forthwith went out of the Chamber, and would not stay to hear him.

This absolute Denial and severe Reprimand, fill'd Fronovius full of Confusion; and had almost made him hopeless; but after some Recollection, he strongly Fancied, that the Opposition he met with, proceeded not from the Lady's Vertue, but from the greater ••nclination she had to some Rival, who enjoyed those Favours which he h•••• been pursu∣ing; and he suppos'd the Gardener to •••• the Man, because he had receiv'd some particular Marks of her Favour since the departure of the Count Alan∣son. Being thus perswaded, he was Resolved (if it were possible) to make a plain Discovery; and to this end he Planted himself Privately one Evening near the Back-stairs that led out of the Garden into Deidamia's Apartment (for that way he thought his supposed Rival must come.) And indeed he had not waited long, before a Person came by, and went up those Stairs; whom he softly followed to the Stair-foot; the Darkness of the Night hindered him from Discerning who the Person was that went by him, but he doubted not but it was the Gardener, and having listened at the bottom of the Stairs, hearing no Door open, nor no Key to turn, he ima∣gined the Door was left open on purpose, and therefore resolved to go up himself, and Surprize them in the very Act of their unlawful Love: He

had no sooner resolved this, but he hears some Bo∣dy Coming softly down Stairs; assoon as the Per∣son came to the bottom of the Stairs, Fronovius boldly Siezes on him, and Demands what Business he had there at that late time of Night? But was extreamly Surpriz'd to meet with, instead of Ber∣nard the Gardener, Antonio the Priest; whom then Pronovius thought had been with Deidamia. Upon which, speaking big Words to Antonio, and threat∣••ing to kill him for the Dishonour he had done his Lord, in Violating of his Bed: The Poor Priest (who was almost Dead with Fear, and extreamly Confounded at this Accident) tremblingly told Fronovius, That if he would save his Life, he would Ingenuously tell him all he knew: Which Fronovius promising, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 told him the Story of his Love, Addresses, violent Passion, and the Repulses he met with: That however being Jealous of the Garde∣ner, and not finding him in his Lodging (for it seems Deidamia had newly appointed him another, unknown to Antonio) he suspected he might be with his Lady; where Desiring to Detect him, and bring him to Punishment, he had undertaken to come at this Unseasonable time; but the Doors being fast Locked, and after a long Listening hearing no Stir nor Whispering, was returning back again to watch a more favourable Opportunity, that he might not on slight Grounds or Uncertainty, lay such a thing to their Charge.

Fronovius finding the Priest had been Repulsed and Reproved as well as he, and that his Thoughts were the same with his as to the suspected Rival, having hushed his present Fears, and declared to him, though somewhat Darkly, his own Affections,

&c. They went to Antonio's Chamber, where they entered into a Combination so Hellish and Mali∣cious, that it brought many Woes and Miseries, both to the Vertuous Deidamia, and the Gardener, till by the Mercy of God, to the Shame, and Confusion of the Contrivers, they were turned to Blessings, to rejoyce the Injured, and clear their Innocence, after many inexpressible Sufferings.

Whilst these wicked Men were thus Plotting to Revenge their Repulses, Deidamia was thoughtful of her Safety: Sometimes she Determined to Write to Alanson, to remember his Promise and hasten his Return; but then she Concluded that though his Presence might reform these Disorders, yet to desert his Command upon any private Oc∣casion, would Derogate from his Honour; and then she Considered, that she could not hide from him the Religion she had Embraced since his Depar∣ture, for she could not Dissemble if she was taxed with it; and tho' his Company were dear to her, yet the Enjoyment of the other was more Preti∣ous and Preferable; and that in Comparison of the Love of Christ, all the Love in the World was but of little Value. At another time she thought of Retiring to her Parents; but this she fancied would be Displeasing to her Lord, that in his Absence she should leave the Government of his Family, which he had trusted to her Care at his Departure; these things seriously Weighed, she resolved to remain at home, thinking time would cure the wild Dis∣orders that were in the Minds of those two wicked Servants.

After this last Resolve, she retired to her Clo∣set, where she had not been long e'er the Gardene••

came to present her with a Paper he had drawn up by her Order, of the Fundamental Points of the Protestant Religion, in opposition to Popery, one being compared with the other, and tryed by Scripture and the Fathers of the Primitive Times. She accepted this Paper very Kindly, promising to look it over at h••r Leisure, as a Matter she had much Desired to be Informed in. Whereupon he Retired to his Labour in the Garden; whilst a Bribed Spie their Enemies had set on the Watch, was run giving Information of the Gardener's be∣ing with his Lady; Fronovius was out of the Way, but Antonio hasted as fast as he could, and softly opening the Spring-Lock, Impudently enter'd the Chamber, drawing the Curtains of her Bed, in hopes of finding what he looked for there; but missing his Purpose, he stole to the side of her Closet, di∣rected thither by her Voice; for the Pious Lady was fallen on her Knees, and fervently pouring out her Soul to God in these Words:

O Most blessed God, thou who art the Father of Mer∣cies, and the God of all Consolations, I bless and Praise thy holy Name, that thou hast Enlightened the Eyes of my Ʋnderstanding with the Knowledge of thy blessed Truth, and that thou hast Delivered me from that Darkness and Ignorance, and those Antichristian Errors wherein I have lived since my Child-hood, and hast revealed the Saving Knowledge of thy Will unto me, as it is Contained in thy blessed Word the holy Scip∣tures: O strengthen my Heart in the Profession of thy Truth, and Grant that I may never return back again to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Idolatry and Superstition, nor be under the Conduct of those blind Guides any more, whatever Suf∣ferings and Trials I may be liable to, or may under go on that Account.

These Pious Breathings of her Soul, Antonio to his great Amazement heard, and knew not what to Think, whether he should Discover himself or Retire; but at last wickedly supposing the Fear she would conceive, least he should Discover what she had uttered against the Romish Religion; or that as he concluded she was turned Hugonot (as they call Protestants) might induce her to Comply with his Lust, he presented himself before her, rudely opening her Closet-door e'er she had time to rise from her Knees. This continued Impudence of his, much troubled her Spirits; whereupon rising hastily she forcibly pulled to the Door, af∣ter she had given him a Thrust back, and Locked herself in; however it unhappily fell out, that in this Disorder not taking that Care as at another time she would have done, that Paper which the Gardener had newly brought her, with her hasty shutting the Door, dropt out of her Coat, and un∣perceived by her, was shut out of the Closet, which Antonio took carefully up, and put in his Pocket, telling her (though the Door was shut against him) He had heard how she Apostatized from her Religion, and how wickedly she had spoken of the holy Roman-Catholick Church; and what Mischiefs he could do her, if he should Discover it; yet for the Love he bore her, if she would yield to ease his Passion, it should be Buried in Eternal Oblivion: But if she refussed, he had now got an Opportuni∣ty to ••uin her.

The Pious Lady, (whose Fervent Devotions this Wretch had Interrupted) Bridled, as much as Hu∣mane Frailty could do, her Passion; Commanding him in mild Terms to be gone, and not Wound

her chaste Ears with his hated Discourse: Against the Injury he Threatned her, she trusted in God for Protection, who is a strong Tower, for the Safety of all those that Fly unto him; and she doubted not when she had an Opportunity to make her Lord Sensible of it, he would, through the Favour of Almighty God, concur with her in her Opinion.

Antonio finding himself disappointed in his main Expectation, and throughly Nettled with this An∣swer, particularly the Conclusion of it, went away; Threatning and Muttering to himself: And in the Anti-chamber met Fronovius, who upon latter No∣tice was hastening to him; to whom he had told all that he had seen and heard. This made them Consult to take new Measures, and in Conclusion resolved her Chastity, or Life should be sacrific'd to their Revenge. This was no sooner Concluded on, but Antonio remembred the Paper he had taken up, and taking it out of his Pocket, knew it to be the Gardener's Hand, and at first supposing it to be a Love-Letter that might discover the Intreague between him and his Lady, was highly Pleased; but he had scarce read it half over, e'er he found such weighty Arguments against the Church of Rome, Levelled directly against her Tottering Foundation, as not only puzzled his Understand∣ing, but made him Storm at a strange rate: Where∣upon Fronovius took it out of his Hand and read the rest; and in the Close these Words, Viz. Vertu∣ous Lady, these Arguments, Pro et Contra, I Submit to your great Wisdom, being very Joyful in having un∣der God, been a poor Instrument in Enlightening your Ʋnderstanding to discern Truth from Falshood.

This left them no longer in Doubt who the Party

was that (as they termed it) had Traduc'd her to Apostarize and become a Heretick, and for this consequently to enjoy Favours she denyed to them; whereupon they Vowed a bloody Revenge; but fearing that the Love Alanson bore her, would not be Effac'd by the change of her Religion, especi∣ally when he should come to understand their criminal Passion for her, and Practices against her, They resolved to make her Parents bear the Blame of that Stupendious Wickedness which they them∣selves design'd to be the Actors of: For they knew that her Parents were extraordinarily Bigotted to the Romish Church, and so were the likeliest to deal with in this matter: Whereupon Antonio im∣mediately posted to them, and desiring a private Conference with the Father and Mother; after many Hypocritial shews of Sorrow for the Disgrace that would befall the Family, he declared how his Lady (since his Lord had been absent) had been perverted from the Catholick Religion by a Hugo∣not, a Heretick Gardener, a Fugitive Wretch, that had been taken in some Years ago, upon Charity. He urged what dishonour it would be to their Fa∣mily, the Danger incurred by the King's Edicts; and lastly the loss of her Soul, if she was not timely recovered and brought to the right Fold from whence she had Perversly Strayed. Then he be∣gan to Magnify the Pious Care and Pains he had taken to keep her in the right Way, and to prevent her falling into such an Unpardonable Sin; but that the Devil had been too hard for his Industry and Labours, through God's high Sufferance, to bring some great Judgment on her for her Haugh∣riness and Contempt, &c.

This being delivered in a Tone very moving and Passionate, seeming altogether in Pity to Deidamia; made the Father Sigh, and the Old Lady burst out in Tears, wringing their Hands, and bewailing the Miseries of their Aged Years, in this (as they then termed it) worst of Misfortunes that could befall them; that the only Branch of their Family that should Convey it to Posterity, had made her self a Cast-a-way, for so in their Passionate Mood they express'd her to be, Antonio was glad to see them thus Wrought; and the Storm of their first Grief spending it self, and being allayed by falling Tears, they began to consult more Maturely how this Misfortune might be Reversed; and after many things were Debated, Antonio's Device of Lodging her in a Nunnery (where she might be Re∣strained from Heretick Books, as he said, and the Company of any Seducers, and also be instructed by Vertuous Nunns, till her Lord came Home, and Determine what might further be done in it) was approved.

What was to be done with the Gardener was the next thing to be Consulted, whether to make him away Secretly; or deliver him up to Justice; the Priest was for the former, but the Parents Con∣sciences was tender in that, and could not consent to such a Wickedness; but Antonio Alledged, that the whole Business would be made Publick if he were delivered up to Justice, and their Daugh∣ter would be brought in as Criminal, and Perhaps for her Obstinacy her Lord might lose his Honours, and Preferments at Court. This made them consi∣der further, and at last left it to the wicked Priest, or those he should appoint, to do, as he or they

Pleased. They would have born him Company to Alanson's House to see what their Perswasious might do, but he Urged it would only be a means to dis∣cover the Matter; and that it would be the best for them to come and Moderate things when the Count came Home, of which he would give them the first Notice, since at present what was to be done required Secrecy; that in the mean time she should be Provided for as became her Quality; and that such a place as he mentioned, with Time and Company, was the best Cure to jostle those wild Notions out of her Head: Upon which they only sent her a Letter, and resolved not to go them∣seves. So Antonio returned well Satisfied to his wicked Companion.

Deidamia (who was Ignorant of this) missing her Paper, and not doubting which way it went, taking more Care for Bernard the Gardener than her self, thought by it he would be Discover'd; wherefore she sent for him, gave him a handful of Gold, and Commanded him to shift for himself; telling him what had passed, and the Danger he was in. This command he seemed exceeding loth to Obey, and with Tears in his Eyes▪ protested, That for the sake of his Religion, and in her Defence against any Injury or Violence, he was willing to expose his Life: But she urged so many things to hasten his Departure, that he Promised to do it; and so they (with sheding many Tears) took a long Farewel of each other.

Bernard was prepared to Depart, as Antonio re∣turned with his Orders; whereupon Fronovius clapped him up in the Dungeon, and that Night hired two Russians to carry him to the Sea-Clifts,

and throw him thence Head-long; and thither they carried him in a Sack on a Horse, Gagged and Bound; but finding a Vessel thrust into a Creek very near the Clifts, one of them enquired and found it belonging to a French Plantation in the West-Indies; whereupon they took the Method of Joseph's Brethren with the Ishmaelites, to make the best Purchase of him, rather than Destroy him and lose it; so he that came to Enquire, demanded of the Master If he wanted a Lusty Servant? He told him Yes; then he returned, and took the Gardener out of the Sack, Ungagged and Unbound him, and told him, That though he deserved to Die for per∣verting his Lady to Heresie; yet they had Com∣passion upon him, and would only send him to do Penance as a Slave in the West-Indies, and bid him accept of it Thankfully and without Muttering; and thereupon they delivered him to the Master of the Vessel, of whom they received 12 Crowns. After which they returned, and gave an Account they had thrown him with a great Stone about his Neck from a fifty Foot Cliff into the Sea, and for it received the Reward Promised them. Nor was Bernard unwilling to go with his unknown Master, finding Providence had changed the Death that was designed him, only into a Slavery, from whence he might Hope in time to be Releas'd. But his Care was greater for Deidamia than himself, for he had been used to Misfortunes, and innured to several Hardships. And her Grief was no less, that she found her self Constrained (as she supposed for his Safe∣ty) so Abruptly to part with the Man that had been an Instrument in the filling her Heart so full of heavenly Consolation; and had not laid her

Commands on him to Write to her, or otherways give her secret Notice of his Abiding-place, (that she might have had further Converse with him, and been more Strengthened by him in the Pro∣fession of that Truth he had instructed her in, and which she was resolved to abide by) till she found means to restore him to his Place again.

Whilst she was Pensive on these Thoughts, An∣tonio having (as I before told you) gotten a Letter from her Parents to her, wherein they laid their Command on her till her Lord's return, as she ten∣dered the Favour of Almighty God, their Blessing, and her own Honour and Safety, to be Ruled and Guided in all things by her Spiritual Pastor. (So, being igno∣rant of his Villany, they termed this wicked Priest.) And whatever he perswaded her to for the Good of her Soul, and Bodily Prese••vation, readily to comply with it; to whose Care and Integrity, next to the Heavenly Protection, they heartily Recommended her till her Lord and Husband came Home: This was Signed by both of them. And Antonio having consulted Fronovius about it, they both came boldly to her Apartment, when they knew she was in Private, and presented it to her, Charging her to Obey it a•• she tendered her Safety: She no sooner looked on it, but she asked them so many Questions, that by Antonio's Replies, she was not insensible they had traduced her to her Parents; and after some just Reproaches told them, It should not be long before she would go and Plead her own Cause, and doubted not so to justify her Proceedings to her Parents, that the black Villany of her base and treacherous Accusers should be unable to sully the brightness of her Innocence. This at first startled them; but being resolved to proceed in

their wicked Designs, they plainly told her, She was at their Disposal, and that they had Orders to carry her to a Nunnery, where she should be Honourably Ʋsed, but debarred from the Destructive Principles she had lately Imbibed, till her, and their Lord, returned, to take the matter into his own Hands, and determined how he Pleased to Dispose of her.

This insufferable Impudence of these Lustful Wretches, stirred up her Zeal to so much holy Anger and Detestation of what they Proposed, that she in a great Passion protested to Dye a thousand Deaths, if it were Possible, and by the most exquisite Torments their Heliish Malice could invent, rather than to be inclosed within the Walls of a Nunnery, which she was Satisfied was no other than a Sink of Sin, and plausible Colour for Lewdness and Debauchery. But they without Replying, offering to force her from the Closet, she opposed her Strength against their Rudeness, crying out for help to the rest of her Servants; but Fronovius who was the Steward and Governour of the Family, had so ordered the matter, that those that immediately Waited upon her, were then out of Hearing: So that whithout any other Interruption than what her Contending gave them, they Hurryed her into a close Chamber in the re∣motest part of the House, where they Locked her in, and went to consult further how they should secretly convey her thence; whilst she (who ex∣pected after such Treatment, nothing but a Vio∣lation of her Chastity, and would much rather have embraced Death, and counted it a Favour) was pouring out of her Soul to God, and imploring his Help in that needful time of her Trouble, and begging of him to Strengthen her Faith, till on a

sudden, to allay the Troubles and Afflictions of her Mind, such beams of Joy and Comsort were ••ar∣ted into her Soul, that she assured her self, That that merciful God, whose gracious Protection she had been seeking, would work out Deliverance for her in due Time.

The Conspirators by this time had come to a Result to rid themselves (as they thought) for ever from the Fear they were in of their Villanous Practices being Discovered; which was this.

Fronovius, Counterfeited a Letter in Alanson's Hand so very Exactly, that if himself had seen it, he might have been puzzled to distinguish it from his Own; and having got two Ruffains ready, one Dressed in the Habit of an Officer, and the other like a Servant attending him; Antonio and his Companion in Wick∣edness went to her with it, and falling on their Knees, with som•• forced Tears, humbly implored her Pardon for the Indignities they had offered to her, beseeching her to be their good Lady, notwithstanding their Follies; and they would never in the like Nature Offend, nor do any thing to Disoblige her; with many other Pro∣testations and much feigned Sorrow for their Rudeness and designs upon her Chastity, imploring her not to Dis∣cover it to her Lord.

Whilst Deidamia was wondering what that sud∣den Alteration in those who had lately so Rudely treated her, might mean, Fronovius delivered her the Letter, in which she read these Words;

My Dear DEIDAMIA.

THo I know that the News wich these Lines will acquaint you with, cannot be Acceptable to you, yet I Conjure you by our Mutual Affections, that you

suffer not your self to be Disturbed, but bear what I shall tell you with that Patience and Serenity of Mind which becomes you, as knowing it is our Duty in all things that happen to us to submit to the Divine Will. Know then, my Lovely Deidamia, that in a late En∣counter with a Party of the Enemies, I happened to be Wound••d by a Chance-shot, which my Chirurgeons tell me is Mortal; and fearing that it may be so, and D••siring above all things here below, to have a sight of your Dear Self before I depart out of the World, I have sent the Bearer, Mons. Durell, one of my Cap∣tains, to Conduct you to me forthwith: Who is a Person of that Worth and Honou••, that you may trust your self with him without the Trouble of any Attendants but what h•• b••ings with him, because I would have you come as speedily as may be: Which is at Present all from him who is both in Life and Death,

Your ever Faithful Husband D' ALANSON.

Charleroy, July 12th. 1693.

At the Reading this she Trembled, looked Pale, and shed abundance of Tears, being in the grea∣test Disorder and Con••usion imaginable, intreating instantly to see the Party that brought it, promi∣sing (on the renewing their entreaties) not to Dis∣cover their Wickedness, if by their Future De∣meanour they made an Attonement for what had passed; and they thereupon solemnly promising it, led her down into the Hall, where the preten∣ded Captain and his Servant Bowed very low to her; and being before hand Instructed, answered all her Questions so cunningly, that she verily be∣lieved

the Letter to come from her Lord, and that all he said was true, desiring them to refresh them∣selves whilst she fitted herself with other Apparel, and took some Jewels, Gold, &c. along with her; which done, and being about four in the Evening, the Innocent Dove committed herself into the Tallons of these bloody Vultures, mounting behind the supposed Captain, who had his Instructions not to let her see the next Morning Dawn. Antonio and Fronovius pretended much Sorrow at her De∣parture, but inwardly Rejoyced, that by this Stra∣tagem they should get her easily into the Trap without Noise or Disturbance; which had they gone about to do by Force, her Crys might have brought Rescue, and prevented their Villa∣nous Purpose: The cursed Priest indeed would have first had her Ravished by himself and his Companion, and then Murthered at Home, but the other considering that it would be Difficult to Dis∣pose of the Dead Body, contrived this way. But I must leave them for some time, hugging them∣selves in their Security, and follow the Deceived Innocent.

The bloody Cut-throats, having got the Prize by her too much Credulity, into their Possession, took all the by-wayes they could, crossing the Countrey and holding her in Discourse with many things relating to the War; and so spun out the time till the Sun was near setting, when coming into a Valley between two vast Woods, in a place much Unfrequented, they Rode into one of them at a turning of a narrow Way, where the supposed Captain stopped, and the Ruffain that Rode single alighted, and surprizingly pulled Deidamia from

behind him, who at so unexpected a Rudeness Trembled, and began to suspect the Treachery; nor was the other slow in Dismounting, when both together they carried her into the Wood; upon this with piteous Shrieks and Cries, she Demanded the Cause of such Violence; but without Replying, the Villain who had carried her, drawing his Sword, Directed it for the fatal Thrust, designing instant∣ly to pierce her Heart; whilst on her Knees she was imploring their Pity and Compassion, and intrea∣ting to know in what she had Offended, to make them so void of Humanity towards a distressed Lady, whom they had betrayed into that Solitary Place; being Con∣vinced that her Lord had given no such Commands: No, (replyed they) that's true, nor do we know him; but Antonio and Fronovius have, and we must Obey them; besides, you are an Heretick, and ought not to Live.

Deidamia now finding she was betrayed by her wicked Servants into the Hands of these merciless Villains; and seeing nothing but present Death before her Eyes, she poured out her Soul to God in Vehement Petitions for Favour from his Hands, and that if he saw fit she should Live no longer here, that he would receive her into Life Eternal, and that rather (if it were required) she might Seal her Profession of the Reformed Religion, in which she had found so much heavenly Consola∣tion, with her dearest Blood, than be prevail'd with to Recant it. But thou, O Lord, (said she) who Deli••erdst Daniel from the Fury of the Lyons, and the Three Children from devouring Flames, canst, if thou wilt, in this great Extremity, deliver me from these Blood-thirsty Men, whom I have in no manner Inju∣red:

But be it as thou pleasest, so that my departing Soul, when it leaves this Mortal Body, may find Shelter in the Arms of thy Mercy. The Villains, who all this while had eyed her, and saw her Lovely in her Tears, Troubled themselves not about her Religi∣on, for their business was to Murther her; and therefore the pretended Captain said, Lady! our time is short, this instant you must Die, therefore settle your Mind for the fatal Stroke: To this she made no Reply, but continuing on her Knees, with Eyes up-lifted to Heaven, Sighs and Tears being the Lan∣guage of her Soul, his impious Hand was about to give the fatal Thrust; but the other, catched hold of his Arm, and stopt his Sword; and after that, they Whispered; but she knew not what they said, till their Further Attempts revealed it.

They had no sooner done conferring Notes, but they Violently forced her on her Back, and pre∣pared to Ravish her first, and then put her to Death; her Cries upon this were redoubled, and she begged Death rather than the loss of her Chasti∣ty, opening her Bosom, and tempting their Swords to Pierce it. But her Beauty in this sorrowful Con∣dition, was so Charming in their Lustful Eyes, that they were inexorable to her Crys, and Prayers. O had Alanson been but there, with what Vengeance at this piteous Sight would his Sword have been drawn to their Destruction and her Rescue! But he being Ignorant of the Wounds his dear Lady was about to receive, Heaven interposed, for her Rescue: For the Villains fell at Discord who should first enjoy her; and the Contest grew so hot, that they disputed it with their Swords, and in the Duel the pretended Captain (most forward in the Mis∣chief)

was ran through the Body, and with a ghastly Groan yielded up his wicked Soul into the hands of Death. The other being sorely Wounded, and Fainting through loss of Blood, gave Deidamia time to fly further into the Woods, wandering so far, that Night covering every thing with Darkness, she thought she might now rest a little to recover Breath; and so sate down upon the Ground: Tho' the Dangers she had so lately escaped from wicked Men, and those that she now feared from wild Beasts, would not a long time suffer her to close her Eyes; however she ceased not with earnest Prayer and Supplication to recommend herself to God, and implore his Aid and Protection; who by the late wonderful Deliverance he had given her, had sufficiently shown her how able he is to save to the uttermost, even in the midst of the greatest Dangers. The consideration whereof, was a mighty Allay to her present Sorrows in the midst of that Forlorn Condition to which she was redu∣ced; so that a little Supported thereby, she fell, at last, into a sound Sleep, having no other Pillow but a Turff of Grass, nor Covering than the Canopy of Heaven. The Morning being come, Deidamia again retur'd Thanks to God, both for her late Deliverance, and her last Nights Preservation; earnestly begging of him, That as he had Graci∣ously begun to Deliver her, so that he would in his own Good time compleat it, to his own Glory and her Good; and, that tho' at present her Af∣flictions were not Joyous but Grievous, yet, that through God's over-Ruling Providence, they might afterwards bring forth for her the peaceable Fruits of Righteousness; Humbly desiring she might be

kept from entertaining hard Thoughts of God, or of his Truth and Wayes which she had so lately Embraced, notwithstanding any Sufferings she had or might meet withall upon that Accouut. And having thus Recommended herself to God, she Re∣solved, if it were possible, to get out of that De∣solate, Pathless, and Solitary Place: But the more she thought to Extricate herself, the more she found herself Entangled; and without hopes of getting out. The Fruits that at that time of the Year grew upon the Trees, supply'd her with Food; and the little purling Streams that issued from some Springs in the Wood, supply'd her with Drink: So that finding it impossible to get away, she was Content to tarry there till the Providence of God should find out some way of Deliverance for her; being Satisfied in this, That the Comforts of Con∣versation, and other Conveniences that she us'd to have, were abundantly made up in the Commu∣nion she enjoy'd with God, whose blessed Presence (as she has since Confess'd) did more than Recom∣pence for all her outward Wants.—In the Posses∣sion of which Happiness we will leave her for a time, and look back to see what became of the Surviving Ruffian.

His Companion (as we have already heard) was kill'd in their Contest about which should Enjoy (or rather Ravish) Deidamia first; and he that Sur∣viv'd, Fainted away through loss of Blood, which (as we have already Related) made way for Dei∣damia's Escape: But he recovering in some little time, found means to stop it's Effusion; and then missing of Deidamia, he made what Search he could for her, not so much to satisfy his Lust,

(which his loss of Blood had pretty much allay'd) as to take away her Life, that in time to come she might not be an Evidence of his Wickedness; but not finding her after all his Search, he Buri••d his Companion, and returned to those that had set him to Work; telling them, That Deidamia, when she found she must Die, by a Surprize had snatch'd away his Companion's Sword, and Slain him with it by an unlook'd-for Thrust: But that himself had quickly Reveng'd it by her own Death, and had buried them both in a deep Pit to avoid Discovery. This they believed, and gave him what they had Promised; being mightily Pleased that now they were (as they thought at least) out of all Danger.

Whilst these Things were thus Acted, Deidamia's Parents became exceedingly Troubled, even to that Degree, that their Sleep departed from them; and those little Slumbers that they sometimes got, were interrupted with strange and unaccountable Dreams; which was also attended with an unusual Melancholly, of which they could give no Account. This made 'em resolve to enquire after Deidamia, of whom they heard nothing, since the Permission they gave to Antonio to carry her to a Nunnery.

But Fronovius and Antonio had been so Cunning to prevent their Discovery of the Villainy, that for a Sum of Money they engaged a certain Abbess of Antonio's Acquaintance, to acknowledge (when there should be Occasion) that Deidamia had been brought thither, but that she had made her Escape from thence, so that she knew not what was become of her, nor could give any Account of the Reason of it, but only by a Note that she had left behind her in her Chamber; which Note Fronovius (who as

we have already said, had a Notable Faculty at Counterfeiting of Hands) had Writ in a Hand so like Deidamia's, that it could not be distinguished. They had also given the Abbess a Ladder of Ropes, by which it was pretended she had made her Es∣cape. Fronovius and Antonio having so well laid their Design with the Abbess, kept possession of Alanson's House without Fear or Controul. And therefore when Deidamia's Parents came thither to enquire after their Daughter, they rece••u'd them with much seeming Courtesie and Kindness; and Fronovius told them, That tho' it had Ʋnhappily fallen out that their Lady had been Perverted to Heresie since the Departure of the Count her Husband, yet he had taken that Care of the Family in his Lord's absence which was consistent with his Duty; and that as to his Lady, the Orders they had been pleas'd to give to Antonio to send her to a Nunnery had been punctu∣ally Observ'd; and he hop'd by that means, against the coming Home of their Lord, she might be again re∣conciled unto the Mother-Church, out of which there is no Salvation. Tho' this Discourse of Fronovius was very Plausible, yet the Parents of Deidamia were not at all Satisfied with it, but desired to see and Discourse with her in the Nunnery where she was, which Fronovius seemed ready to assent to, and with Antonio offered their Service to accompany them thither, telling them they had given so strict a Charge to the Abbess to prevent any Hereticks from coming to her, that none might be admit∣ted to speak with her, but themselves, or by their immediate Order.

The Parents being for the present Satisfied with this Answer, lay there that Night, big with the

Hopes they had of seeing their Daughter the next Day: Which being come, they went with Antonio and Fronovius to the Nunnery; but were extream∣ly Surprized when they came thither, to hear the Abb••ss say, That the young Lady had been too hard for her; and notwithstanding all her Care and Diligence, had found a way to make her Es∣cape but the Day before; and then led them into the Garden, shewing them the Ladder of Ropes by which she got over the Wall; and then having them into a Room which she called her Chamber, gave them the Note which Fronovius left with her, asking her Parents if they knew that Hand; they hastily Opened it, and thought verily it had been of Deidamia's Writing: And then Reading it, found it to Contain these Words:

HAving been forced to this Place against my Mind and Conscience, let none be troubled that I have found a Means to set my self at Liberty: And am gone to Him who no doubt will Right me of the Injury done me by my Treacherous Servants.

Deidamia.

Her Parents upon reading this Letter, and be∣lieving it to be True, burst forth into Tears for the Loss of their Daughter; not knowing now in what part of the Country to seek for her: The only Hopes they had was, that she was gone into Flanders to her Husband, to which Opinion Fro∣novius and Antonio both perswaded them, from that Expression in the Note, [I am gone to him that will Right my Injuries.] Upon which, giving Fro∣novius a Charge to be a Faithful Steward in his Lord's Absence, they returned to their own House,

where they Writ the following Letter to the Count and sent it by an Express to Flanders.

To the Count D' Alanson, Coll. of the Regiment of Picardy.

Dearest SON,

IT is not without Ʋnexpressible Grief that we Write these Lines, which brings you the sad Tidings of the greatest Affliction that ever befell you; and which, without the Divine Aid, you will find it very hard to bear; but I hope Heaven will Support you under it; it is in Brief, the Loss of Deidamia; I do not mean by Death, for had Heaven Ordain'd it so, that would have been far more Eligible: But, alas! She is Lost both to herself and all of us; She is (since your De∣parture) Perverted to Heresie, and turned an obstinate Hugonot; which whilst we endeavoured to Reclaim her from, by Consenting (upon the Advice of your Chaplain, Father Antonio) that she should be put into a Nunnery, she is escaped from thence no one knows whither; the Thoughts whereof has filled the Hearts of my self and Wife with such Ʋnexpressible Grief and Sorrow as has rendered us altogether Ʋnconsolable. Our only remaining Hope is that she may be gone to you; and that if you have not already, you may yet Hear of her in a few Days; for she left behind her in her Chamber, at the Nunnery of St. Bridget's (whither Fronovius and Antonio conducted her) the following Note.

HAving been forced to this Place against my Mind and Conscience, let none be troubled that I have found a means to set my self at Li∣berty: And am gone to him who no doubt will Right me of the Injury done me by my Treache∣rous Servants.

Deidamia.

It is this Note alone that gives us ground to Hope that you may see her again; and I Pray God it may fall out accordingly. And whenever this lost Sheep shall be found again, I doubt not but you will lay her in your Bosom, according to the Example of our great Shepherd; and by your wonted Love and Tenderness towards her, endeavour to restore her again to the true Fold and Church of Christ; to whose holy Protection I commit you, and so Farewel.

J. MONTAIGN.

The Count Alanson was so transported with Grief at the reading of this Letter, that for some time he remained Speechless: His trouble was too geat to Vent it self in Words; still Waters being always the Deepest: But soon after his Sorrow gave it self Vent in the most passionate and feeling Complaints: And then calling for a Pen and Ink, he Writ the following Letter to his Father.

Alanson to the Sieur Montaign.

SIR,

I Received your Letter, the contents whereof has brought that Grief and Sorrow to my Heart, that will con∣tinue there for ever, unless the Sight of my Dearest Deidamia removes it: Her being turn'd Hugonot is not that which gives me much Trouble, it rather makes me think there is something of Good in those Opinions, or else so much Goodness and Vertue as that of Deidamia's, could never have embr••••'d 'em. Had you but let her alone in my House I had been Happy still; but your endeavouring to reclaim her, has been the Ruine of us both: I am so Transported with Grief and Anger, that I know not what to Write, nor would I Write at all, but come away immediately, were it not for the Hopes

you give me from the Note found in the Chamber of my Dearest Deidamia, that she was gone to Him that would soon Right her Injuries, and that can be none but my Self: And might I but Recover her again, she should not be mistaken in her Thoughts. 'Tis in Hopes of her Coming that I am Content to stay here a little longer: For 'tis Deidamia alone can make me Happy. Farewell.

ALANSON.

The Messenger being return'd with Alanson's Let∣ter, it administred fresh Grief to Deidamia's Pa∣rents. For they thereby found that by their too casily yielding to Antonio's Designs, they had not only lost their Daughter, but the Affections of their Son in-Law In this sad State we will now leave them, and make Deidamia a Visit in her sorrow∣••ul Solitude.

Deidamia being in that lonely Place, each Day removed her Habitation, until at last she found a Cave, which covered her from the Injuries of the Weather, and was a quiet Resting place to her in the Night-season, for by shutting up the Mouth of the. Cave she secur'd herself from all Danger; which she look'd upon, and thank'd God for, as a great Mercy: And Living upon the Fruits that grew in the Wood, (as I said before) she spent her time wholly in Prayer and Meditation; and tho' her Diet and Lodging was extreamly changed, yet her Health was both continued and encreased, and she found that Promise made good to her; As thy Day is, so shall thy Strength be.

She had now Lived almost four Months in this Solitude, and the Winter approaching, began to

make the Woods uncomfortable; and the Cold extreamly nipping: So that Deidamia was forced often to walk apace to get her a heat. One day as she had walked farther than Ordinary, she dis∣covered some kind of an Obscure Path she had not seen before, and tho' she knew not whither it would lead her, she was resolved to follow the Track: She travelled so far that Day, that it was in Vain for her to think of retreating to her be∣loved Cave, where she had lain so many Nights; and therefore making the best Shift that she could, she sat down upon the Ground, and Recommend∣ing herself to the Almighty's Protection, compos'd herself to Rest; the next Morning she arose as soon as it was Light, and travelling forward, perceived her Path to be like that of the Just, which the Wise man tells us, Shines more and more unto the per∣fect Day: And she was encouraged to go on, be∣cause she Fancied she heard the Barking of Dogs; and after travelling a little further, she was well assured it was a real Thing, and not a Fancy only; and therefore she pursu'd her Journey the more eagerly. The Sun had not come to it's Meridian, when she heard an unusual Rushing amongst the Bushes, and standing still to know what it might mean, she perceived a Grave Old Man with two Dogs following him, come from among the Trees. They were both alike Surpriz'd at the Enterview; for the Old Man having never seen any Humane Creature in that Place before, could not but he amaz'd to see a Woman coming from the midst of the Wood; and therefore addressing himself to her, he enquired by what Misfortune she came thither? Intreating her not to be Afraid, for she should re∣ceive

no Harm from him: Deidamia upon this looking Earnestly upon him, and perceiving his Carriage and Demeanour to be what became the Gravity of his Years, she told him, She was indeed in a wild Place, and knew not the Way out again. To this the Old Man Replyed, If she would go with him to his homely Cottage, his Wife would Conduct her out of the Wood. Deidamia presently accepted of his kindness and went with him. And after they had gone about the space of a Mile, they came to his House; where the good Old Woman (who was some what Suprized to see her Husband bring a Stranger along with him) rose up and received her very Courteously, desiring her to sit down, and refresh herself with such homely Fare as their Cottage a••orded: Which she did; and then asking her farther how she came into that Place, Deida∣mia desired they would ask her no Questions, for the repetition of her Sorrows would but renew her Grief; only thus much she would let'em know, that her being there Alive was the Effect of God's Providence in de∣livering her from Wicked and Blood∣thirsty men that sought to take away her Life. Upon which, percei∣ving her full of Grief, they ask'd her no more Questions, but finding her very Weary, they led her into a homely but clean Apartment, to repose herself upon the Bed: Deidamia was mighty thoughtful what this Aged Couple might be; and whether or no, for her Apparels sake, and that Gold and those Jewels she had about her, she might not fall into as great a Danger as that she had for∣merly escap'd, and tho' she was at first glad of their Company, she could almost have wished her∣self in her Beloved Cave again. But her Fears

were quickly over, when by a French Bible and o∣ther good Books, she found in her Room, and by the hearty Prayers of the good Old Man at Night, she perceiv'd they were Hugonots, who had fled into that solitary Retirement for the sake of their Religion: This made her be much more free with them, blessing God for his Providence in bringing her thither, and resolving to continue there, till she could meet with an Opportunity to return home into the Arms of her Dearest Alanson: And the Old Couple having understood her Histo∣ry more fully, by their Pity and Commiseration made her Abode with them more easie. And the Communion she had with them in the things of another World, weaned her from this in a great Measure. So that here she took up her Abode, and continued with them not only that Winter, but the Year following, until she was found out by her Beloved Alanson, to whom it is time that we now Return.

The Count Alanson having tarried at the Camp a whole Month after the receiving of his Father∣in-Law's Letter, in expectation of seeing his dear∣est Deidamia; began now to be impatient of tar∣rying any longer; and indeed, during all that time, he was so much chang'd in his Carriage, Hu∣mours, and Conversation, that all those with whom he us'd to Converse in the Camp, took Notice of it, he having abandon'd himself to an extream Melancholly; and therefore desiring of the King to go Home, both for the Recovery of his Health, and for the settling some Affairs in his Family, he soon obtain'd it, and soon after (tho' with a heavy Heart) arriv'd there. Where his first Business was

to enquire after Deidamia, but none of the Ser∣vants could give any Account of her but Fronovius and Antonio, who gave him the same Account that had been sent him by his Father-in-Law. To which he Sternly asked them, How they durst dispose of their Lady and Mistress, contrary to her Will, with∣out his Consent or Knowledge? Telling them, He feared by the Note she had Written, it was their Trea∣chery that was the occasion of her Loss; which if he could but be Confirmed in, he would take Care they should receive a Punishment suitable to the greatness of their Crimes. At which Fronovius and Antonio began to Tremble, and make the best excuses for themselves they could; Alledging the Consent of her Parents for what they did: But that did not at all Satisfie Alanson, who soon discharg'd them from his Ser∣vice, and resolv'd to Travel in Search of Deidamia, tho' he knew not which way to bend his Course. But after many a tedious Journey, enquiring amongst those who were Favourers of the Hugonots, he yet could hear no Tidings of her. So that full of Grief and Sorrow, he led a retir'd and Melan∣cholly Life in his own House, absenting himself from all Company, and Mourning like a Turtle that had lost his Mate, tho' his Friends by all means possible endeavoured to Comfort him; perswa∣ding him to surcease his Grief; for that it was Probable Deidamia by some Misfortune or other was Dead; and therefore they advis'd him to think of a second Marriage, as that which would restore his former Gayety, and make him forget Deida∣mia. But the more they endeavour'd to perswade him, the more he was resolved to the Contrary; and therefore to avoid their continued Importu∣nities,

he fixt his Resolution once more to Travel in Quest of her; which accordingly he did, but without Success: And therefore he resolved to return again to his own House, and there spend the remainder of his Dayes in Solitude.

But as he was returning Home, in his way he met with a Vast Concourse of People, and Deman∣ding the Occasion of it, he was told a Criminal was a going to be broken on the Wheel, for a Murther he had Committed; upon which Curio∣sity led him to see the Execution. And getting pretty near, the Malefactor cast his Eyes upon him, and straight knew him to be Alanson the Husband of Deidamia; and being smitten with Remorse of Conscience, he beckoned Alanson to come near, and humbly begged his Pardon for the Wrong he had done him. At this Alanson both Started and fell a Tembling, fearing it was for her Murder the Cri∣minal was to Die: But coming nearer, the Male∣factor asked him, If he had heard any News of his Lady? And then with Tears Confessed That himself and another had been Hired to Murther her, to which end they carried her into a Wood, (which he named to him) but by a miraculous Providence she escaped out of their Hands; That afterwards he had reported to those that set him to Work, that he had actually Mur∣thered her; For which he received the Reward; but which way she Escaped, he knew not; And that this was about two Years since. The Count urged him to tell the Names of those that had so ••ired him; but he said, He had Sworn upon the holy Sacrament of the Altar never to Disclose 'em; and that he feared Dam∣nation if he should: Only, (said he) this I may say without breaking my Oath, They were two Persons in

whom you have put a great deal of Confidence. And then solemnly Arrested, That what he had said was the Truth. And soon after was Executed.

This Dying Criminal's Confession confirm'd A∣lanson that Deidamia had been Treacherously car∣ried thither, either from his House or the Nunnery; and he no longer Doubted that Fronovius and An∣tonio were the Persons that had Hired Villians to Murther her; and therefore tho' they were re∣moved from his Service some time ago, yet he was resolved to pursue them, in order to bring them to Justice: But first he intended to make a fresh search a••ter Deidamia, the Criminal having given him account where she escaped from th••m; and therefore he thought (if she were still Alive) she might be somewhere in the Viciuity of that Wood: Towards that therefore he bended his Course, and being arrived within sight thereof, and seeing how vast a thing it was, he perceived it would be a Diffi∣cult thing to find her, even tho' she was there. Yet at his entering in, he conceived some Hopes in his Mind, that he should not lose his Labour. Whereupon alighting, and giving his Horse to his Servant, (who had attended him in all his Melan∣cholly Travails) and charged him to attend there till he came back, he went into the Wood alone, and found himself entangled amongst Thickets, Briars, and Bushes, yet still he went on, searching every Cave and Solitary Place, often calling out, Deidamia! till Darkness coming on, made him think of Returning to his Man; but he found he was gone too far to Retreat back in time, and there∣fore resolved to go forward: and being no doubt guided by Providence, he happened upon that

Cave where Deidamia had so often bewailed his Absence and Mourned her own Solitary State; and there he rested his weary and tired Body for that Night, resolving to pursue his Search the next Morning; which being come, just as he was go∣ing out of the Cave, he perceived something spar∣kle very Brightly on the Ground, which he stoo∣ped and took up, and looking on it in the open Light, he found it to be a Locket of Diamonds, which he had formerly given Deidamia; and she unwittingly had dropt there. The finding of this, fill'd him with some Transports of Joy, as look∣ing upon it as an Earnest of his good Success in finding the Owner. Thereupon he often repea∣ted her Name very loud, but could receive no Answer but by some broken Eccho's. And there∣fore going on, he knew not whither, but being directed by the same Providence that had be∣fore Conducted him to the Cave, when he had wandered so far, that he was almost hopeless, he was suddenly set upon by two Whiffling Curs, which, upon offering to draw his Sword, ran away Barking from him; which he pursuing, came in a little time to a Path, where he might discern the Foot-steps of Human Creatures, which very much revi••ed his Hopes, and encouraged him still to go on; he had not gone far before he discerned smoak to issue from a small Cottage; to which, as he ap∣proached pretty near, he was again Saluted by the furious Barking of those Dogs whom he had before pursued. This was the Cottage where Deidamia resided, who upon the Barking of the Dogs, look∣ing out to see what was the Matter, espied Alanson coming towards her, and (the the Idea of his I∣mage

being continually in her Breast) she no sooner Saw, but Knew him, and running into his Arms in an Excess of Joy, was only able to Cry out, Ah! my Dear Lord, Alanson! But excess of Joy proves sometimes Fatal, and it had like to have done so to Deidamia, for She immediately Swooned away in his Arms; The Dogs still continued their Barking, which also caused the good Old Wo∣man of the Cottage to see what the Cause was, and was extreamly Surprized to see a gentile Stranger there, and Deidamia 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in his Arms; how∣ever she made what haste she could to endeavour her Recovery, desiring Alanson to bring her into the House, which he immediately 〈◊〉〈◊〉, telling the good Woman that he was Deidamia's Husband; which she (being very well acquainted with Deidamia's Story) was very glad to hear. It was a consider∣able time before Deidamia could be brought to her Self, which so much afflicted the Count, that he was almost ready to Faint away himself. But his Lady being again recovered, Alanson with a thou∣sand Kisses and endearing Expressions assured her of the Truth, Reality, and Constancy of his Affecti∣ons towards her; whilst she on the other Hand, seemed to be the most Satisfied Creature in the World, in that she had once more seen her dearest Lord Alanson; Desiring him not to be troubled at her Fainting away, since it was only occasioned by the excess of that Joy she conceived in seeing him again; and that Death it self would have been easie to her upon so happy an Occasion, and espe∣cially Dying in his Arms.

Whilst in this manner they were expressing the Ardency of their Affections to each other, the good

Man of the House came Home; and being told by his Wife that Deidamia's Husband was there, he was over-joyed; and courteously Saluted Alanson, telling him He was sure he was a Wellcome Man there to them all, but especially to Deidamia, who had long mourned his Absence. Alanson kindly Thank∣ed him, and told him He should ever Honour him as the Refuge▪ and Preserver of his dear Lady. And after such Civilities on each side passed, the good Woman set before him such homely Refreshment as she had prepared on the Table: Alanson eat b••t little, Deidamia's Presence being more to him than all the Dainties in the World; yet percei∣ving with what course Fare his Lady bad been there Contented, he praised her Humilily, and wonder'd at her Vertue. Dinner being ended, Alanson was Concerned for his Servant, whom he had left in the entrance of the Wood, and would have gone back to him; but the good old Man would by no means let him, telling him he would go himself, because ••he better knew the way, and could easier find it; and so taking his Dogs along with him, he went accordingly: The Man having waited at the enterance of the Wood, from the time that his Master went into it, till the next Morning, and hearing nothing of him, leaving his Horses in the Fields adjoining to the Wood, resol∣ved to find him out, and having got a good Way, he met the Old Gentleman, who was coming to him; and enquiring of him for his Master, whom he describ'd, he told him he had both seen and came from him, to Conduct him where he was, and that he had found his Lady; at this the Servant was very Glad, and Joyfully went along with him.

After the Old Gentleman was gone for the Servant the Count and his Lady went into the Woods, and there she gave him a particular account of all her Sorrows and Sufferings since his departing from her. And the reason of her staying where she was; viz. The Old Gentleman's not da••ing to go out of the Wood with her, he being a proscrib'd Person; and to go without him was to endanger her own Life: Besides, she knew not how Antonio might have ordered matters, having the Pretence of Heresie to lay to her Charge; and that hearing nothing of him in all this time, she thought his Aff••ctions might have been E∣stranged from her. But Alanson assur'd her to the Contrary; telling her He could not but Wonder at the unparallel'd Villany of Fronovius and Antonio; and that he had turn'd them out of his Service s••on af∣ter he came home from the Camp. After which the Old Gentleman and Alanson's Servant, being (as before related) arrived at the Co••tage, the Eve∣ning was far Spent, and so they all betook them∣selves to rest.

The next Morning Alanson was preparing for his return Home; but before they went, their aged Landlord would needs have them stay and Dine; and in Discourse told him he was once a Tenant of his Fathers; but by cruel Edicts was forced not only to leave that Farm, but his Paternal Inheri∣tance, suffering the Spoil and ••oss of all for the sake of Christ and a good Conscience; and in this Solitary Retirement had enjoyed more true ••eace and Satisfaction, then in all the Pleasure of his Fore∣past Life. The Count then ask'd him his Name; which he told him was De La Mont; upon which he presently Knew and Embraced him; Saying,

That tho' himself was of the Roman Perswasion, yet he had often pitied his Sufferings, adding, That it was given out he Died in Prison. The Pious Deida∣mia from this Discourse took anoccasion to say, Ah! my dearest Lord, You see what a Cruel and Merciless Religion it is that you Profess, and which thro' the goodness of God, I have lately departed from. I am not Surpriz'd (said Alanson) at that which you say, for I was inform'd in Flanders that you had chang'd your Religion. I wish to God, (replyed Deidamia) that your self, my dea••est Lord, was likewise made a partaker of the same Happy Change. Upon this Mons. De la Mont put in, and laid down such weighty Reasons for the Truth of the Reformed Religion, and against the Errors of the Church of Rome, that it encouraged Deidamia further to go on, and shew the Viciousness and Debauchery of the Ro∣••ish Clergy, their bloody Principles and persecu∣ting Spirit; so that Alanson was forced to Confess, That what was Alledged against their Practices was true; but as to their Principles (abating that of Persecution) he believed they might be mistaken: Upon which Deidamia Replyed, I am glad, my dear Lord, to find you are against Persecution; I hope then you will be willing I shall enjoy the Liberty of my Con∣science (the only Happiness I have had in this Solita∣ry Retirement) and that you will never go about to Compel me to go to Mass, which I will rather Chuse to ••ye than do: To this Alarson replyed That he was •• such Bigot as to think that those that sincerely wor∣••••pped God, according to the best of their Ʋnderstan∣••••gs, (as he was Confident Deidamia did) might not be accepted of him, tho of an Opinion different from himself: And as to Compel her to go to Mass, if by

Arguments he could not Perswade her to it, he solemn∣ly Promised he never would use any other Means.

And being now ready to Depart, Alanson offer∣ed La Mont▪ store of Gold for their Kindness to his Lady while she had been with them, which he ab∣solutely Refused, saying, Her Conversation had been so agreeable, that they were the Persons who had been Obliged. So that leave being taken, and La Mont Praying that God would go along with them, and make th••ir Way Prosperous, they parted, and com∣ing out of the Wood, the Servant readily found the Horses; and Deidamia getting up behind her Lord, they made the best of their Way towards Alanson's House; Where they were received with the rejoycing of all their Acquaintance; and much more of her Parents, to whom in a Day or two they made a Visit, Deidamia being received by them as one risen from the Dead. And the Story of their Daughters Troubles being all Related to them, they could not but admire the Providence of God, in preserving her, and wonder at the mon∣strous Wickedness of Fronovius and Antonio: Who upon their hearing of the Confession of the Dying Criminal, had withdrawn themselves from their former Residences. And Antonio (the better to escape deserved Punishment for this Lustful At∣tempts upon Deidamia's Chastity) went privately to the Bishop of Rheims, and told him that Count Al••••son's Lady was Depraved with Heresie, in which she was so much Countenanced by her Lord, that himself for endeavouring to Reclaim her, was turn'd out of the Family, and cut off from all In∣terest in it, and therefore came humbly to beg his Protection against so powerful an Adversary, since

what he had done was only out of Zeal to promote the Catholik Religion. The Bishop received him into his Protection, and Writ a sharp Letter to the Count about it; who having received it, believed it was don•• by the ••nstigation of Antonio, whom he heard he had entertain'd; And being troubled that so great a Villane should find any Countenance from the Bishop, he Writ back again to know the Names of those that had so Injuriously inform'd him against his Lady: But the Bishop would not gratifie him so far in his Desires. This made the Count return him a second Letter, written in a more Angry Stile; Declaring, That if he could not have Justice from him, the King himself should be acquain∣ted with it, and by him he would seek Redress. This so Nettled the Bishop, that he sent Examiners to his Lady, to Interrogate her about her Religion; of which the Count having some Intimation, sent her to her Parents; who were extreamly Trou∣bled at these fresh Misfortunes; and being mighti∣ly Sc••••••aliz'd at the Villany of Antonio; and the Bishop's protecting him from Justice, grew there∣upon very cold in the Profession of the Popish Re∣ligion, which so furiously Persecuted Innocence and Vertue, and Countenanced the greatest Wick∣edness: This the Pious Deidamia Wisely Impro∣ved, and so Effectually wrought with them, by her Warm and Zealous Discourses, that through the Operation of God's Holy Spirit assisting her, they were both brought over to the Embracing of the Truth.

The Bishops Examiners being disapointed, re∣turn'd back without their Errand; upon which the Bishop threatned to Excommunicate both A∣lanson

and his Family; and was soon after as good as his Word. Upon ••his Alanson Posts away to the King, who was then at Marli, where he Compla••n∣ed of the Injury done him, by the Bishop of Rheims, both in Excommunicating him, and Pro∣tecting a Villanous Criminal from Justice. But it seems the Bishop had been before-hand with him, and made his Complaint first: For the King re∣ceiv'd him very Coldly, and told him, The Bishop of Rheims was a good Man, and he had left the Bu∣siness wholly to him. On which Alanson return'd Home much Discontented, and found that in his Absence fresh Search had been made in his House for his Lady, tho' without Success. Then he went to the Bishop himself, and boldly Charged him with Enteraining a wicked Person, to the prejudice of his Ho••••ur; telling him who he was, and declaring his Crimes, desiring he might be brought forth, and his Lady should appear. But the Bishop re∣fusing this, and telling him His Lady was accused of Heresie, and he of Countenancing it; the Count in •• kind of holy Anger told him, That Religion could not be of God, which enco••raged Villany, an sought the Destruction of them that were Vertuous. At this the Bishop Storm'd, and told him He should be answer∣ed in another Nature. And soon after he had secret Notice from Court, That upon a fresh Complaint of the Bishops, both he and his Lady were proscrib'd as Hungonot••; and that notwithstanding his Friends In∣tercession, and his own former Merits, his Places were taken away, and his Estate ordered to be Seized, as a Terror to others. Alanson finding himself unable to withstand this Storm, pack'd up the Richest of his Effects, and privately sent them to his Wive••

Father, where she was all this while Concealed, and then followed after himself. Where having declared the great Injustice he had met withal, contrary to all Religion, Honour, Honesty, and Conscience. He had told his Relations he was Re∣solved, by God's Help, to embrace that Religion for which he had been a Sufferer before he was a Professor; For that Religion could not be of God, that did so Evidently set up the Kingdom of the Devil. At which they all Rejoyced, and Deidamia more especially; who passionately Embracing him said, Her Father and Mother were of the same mind with him; at which Alanson was the more Encouraged. But least their Adversaries should come thither to Search for them, they withdrew into a small Village, and Lived obscurely, while Montaign could hear of a convenient Vessel to Transport them into a Countrey where they might enjoy more Liberty.

You have before heard how Bernard the Garde∣ner was Sold to a Master of a Ship belonging to, one of the French Plantations in the West-Indies; Before we Conclude we will briefly show how God's Providence watched over him for Good also. In his Voyage at Sea they met with so extraordi∣nary a Storm, that all expected present Death; but Bernard was very Calm, puting up his Fervent Prayer to Almighty God, which was followed by a very great Serenity and Calmness. This made the Master have a Respect for him, and ••ftentimes Discoursed with him; his Behaviour being always Sober, and his Discourse Savoury. The Master ha∣ving made his Voyage, Sold Bernard for a Slave; and having staid there about two Months, return'd again to France; but the Discourses and Behaviour of

Bernard had made so deep an Impression in his Mind, that he was greatly Troubled for having Sold him, insomuch that he could take no Rest, untill he had taken a solemn Resolution the next Voyage he made, to bring him back; and accordingly the next Year making an∣other Voyage thither, he made it his Business to enquire after him, and having found him, ask'd if he was Willing to have his Liberty, and return to his own Coun∣trey? Bernard Replied, He never was in Love with Slavery; but was Contented under it, whilst God's Providence ordered it so; but if he might have his Liberty, he would Choose it rather. Whereupon the Master paid his Ransom, and brought him back to France; nor was he a loser by it, for as a Recompense for his Kindness, it pleased God to make Bernard an Instrument to open his Eyes, and bring him to acknow∣ledgment of the Truth. Bernard being got again into his own Country, made it his Business to enquire after the Welfare of Alanson's Family, and being told of the Sufferings that had lately befallen them, he was ex∣treamly Grieved, tho' at the same time he could not but Rejo••ce that they Suffered in so good a Cause. And speaking of them to some of his Old Christian Friends; he was told by one of them, That both the Count and his Lady liv'd Obscurely and in Disguise, in the Neigh∣bouring Village; and that if he had a mind to see them, he would give him a Note to the Gentleman of the House, upon which he should have admittance to them; or otherwise they would not be Spoken with by any one. Bernard gladly accepted of his Friends Kindness; and straight went to the House; and delivered the Gentleman the Note, the Purport of which was, That he had known the Bearer many Years for a faithful Friend and Brother; and that ••e

had been formerly a Servant of the Count Alanson's and had a great Desire to see his Lady, which he might Safely let him do. Upon reading this Note, the Gen∣tleman desir'd him to come in, and sent up one of his Servants to acquaint Deidamia there was one below desired to Speak with her; upon which Bernard was presently call'd up; Deiadamia was mightily Surpriz'd to see Bernard, whom she thought she should have never seen more, and very much rejoyced at it; introducing him to her Lord, and afterwards to her Parents, who all made very much of him; and were Glad to see him. And having communicated the Various Providen∣ces of God to one another since they had been parted, they all blessed the Lord For his Goodness, and for his Wonderful Works to the Children of Men. And afterward Consulting how to procure a Ves∣sel to Conve•• them out of Danger, Bernard gave them an Account that the Master of the Vessel which brought him back to France, was also Converted; and that now his Vessel lay ready to Sail for Den∣mark; and he was sure he would be glad to Serve them. To this they all Argeed; and therupon Ber∣nard went immediately to the Master of the Ship, who readily consented to carry them, and Ordered their Goods to be brought Presently, and them∣selves to come Aboard at Midnight; at which time Bernard Conducted them to the Ship, and then went Aboard with them in quality of their Ser∣vant; and ••oon after, the wind serving, they set Sail for Denmark; where being Arrived, and tar∣rying a few Days, they hired a Dutch Vessel to carry them to Rotterdam, and from thence they went by Boat to Ʋtrecht; which being a pleasant Place,

and of a very good Air, they resolved there to Settle.

Thus, Courteous Reader, thou hast had a brief but True, Relation of the Mercy and Goodness of God to that Noble Family which is the Subject of this Narrative: And he that Reads it throughout seri∣ously, will find Cause to make the same Observa∣tion that David did of Old, Mark the Perfect Man, and behold the Ʋpright, for the End of that Man is Peace. Which the Apostle St. James further Ex∣emplifies in his Epistle, You have heard of the Pa∣tience of Job, and have seen the End of the Lord, how he is very Pitiful and of tender Mercy. Here you have seen the great Distress of Deidamia, and here you have seen the Goodness of God in her Deli∣verance. Here you have the Count Alanson Rifled and Spoil'd of his Estate and Possession; And here you have seen how God has Graciously made it up, in giving him that Faith which is far more Precious than the Gold which Perisheth.

But I cannot Conclude without giving you a•• Account of the Judgments of God upon Fronovius and An∣tonio, that others may Fear, and give Glory to God.

Fronovius after the Seizure of Alarson's Estate, and his Departure into Ho••land, return'd into those Parts, but finding himself Hated by all Men for his Villan••, he retired into Norman••••, where Soli∣citing his Landlord's Daughter to yield to his Lust, and she refusing it. he took ••n Opportunity to Ravish her. for which ••e was Hang'd without the Gates of Roan.

And as for Antonio, tho' he escaped the Justice of Man, he could not escape the Judgments of God, for falling Distracted in a little time after, he Con∣fess'd

it was God's Judgment upon him for the Mischief he had wrought against his Lord Alanson, and his Vertuous Lady; Saying, They had taken a way to be Saved, but he was sure to be Damned; and so Dashing out his own Brains against a Wall, he Died Miserably. Both of them Verifying the Words of the Inspired Pen-Man, Is not Destruction to the Wicked, and a strange Punishment to the Workers of Iniquity?

A Brief Account of the Present Persecu∣tion of the French Protestants.

THe restless Malice of the Great Enemy of Man∣kind against the Church of God, has been sufficiently manifested in all Ages of the World; and began to Exert it self first of all in Cain, who kill'd his Brother Abel, because his own Deeds were Wicked, and his Brothers Righteous, as the holy Scriptures inform us: And it has been his frequent Practice, when he could not withdraw the People of God from the Profession of the Truth by the Bait of Worldly Advantage, to raise a Flood of Persecution against 'em, by that means to Extirpate them, if it were possible, out of the Earth. Of which no People in Europe has in this Age had more fatal Experience than the ••••or Pro∣testants in France, who have been so barbarously used by the Blood thirsty Papists there, that a True Acc••unt of their Sufferings will appear to the next Age rather like Romantick Fictions, than (as indeed they are) Realities. And there are two

things in it that appear alike Admirable; and that is, The Barbarous Rage and Cruelty of the Perse∣cutors, and the Invincible Courage and Constan∣cy of the Poor Sufferers, who are so mightily sup∣ported by ••he Divine Grace, that they not only triumph over all their Tortures, but suffer joyful∣ly the loss of all, as knowing that they have in Heaven a better and a ••ore induring Substance.—But I will recite briefly some Instances of their Sufferings.

Some they Condemn to the Gallies, where they are Coupled commonly with the Vilest Miscre∣ants, Condemned thither for the most flagitious Crimes, whose fearful Oaths and Execrations are conti••••ally wounding of their Pious Ears: There is generally five of them plac'd upon every Form, fetterd with a heavy Chain of about ten or twelve foot long: They Shave their heads, from time to time, to shew they are Slaves, and are not al∣low'd to wear either Ha••ts or Perriwigs: They have only Beans, and nothing else for their Food, with about fourteen Ounces of Course Bread a day, and no Wine at all. They are devour'd in Winter by Lice, and in the Summer by Buggs and Flies; and forced to lie upon one another, as Hogs in a Sty: And every day are threatn'd and tormented by Friars and Priests, who not being able to convince them by reason, think to do it by Severity.

Some they put in Prison, and keep them in ••asty Dungeons and Ho••es, full of Mire and Dirt, without any Bed, or so much as Straw to lie upon, and not suffered to have the least glimmering of the Sun, or the light of a Candle. And allow'd so

small a quantity of Victuals as is hardly sufficient to keep them alive. In this miserable Case, with∣out any to pity 'em, some have been kept above a Year together. One of them being visited after a Twelve-months Imprisonment in this manner, by one called a Director of Conscience, just as they were going to bring him his small allowance, he cou'd not forbear crying out, as soon as he saw him, Lord in what a Condition are you, Sir! To which the poor Sufferer reply'd with a Christian Fortitude, worthy of the Cause he suffer'd for, Cou'd you but see the Secret Pleasure my heart Expe∣riences, you wou'd think me too happy. The Priest told him, •• he greatest Sufferings did not intitle to the Glory of Martyrdom, unless he suffer'd for Truth and Justice. To this the Poor Prisoner reply'd, He grante•• it; but that that was his Case, the Holy Ghost ha•••• ••seal'd to his heart, that the very thought thereof ••••ported him in the midst of all his Afflictions: This ••••rson has through Gods Providence been since ••liver'd; and has declar'd, that the Consolations that God out of his infinite Love, afforded to him, w••••e so great, that he little regarded the Miseries he was reduc'd to, tho he continued in that lamentable Condition about two and twenty Months, with∣out changing his Cloaths, till his Beard was grown as long as the Hair of his Head, and his Face as pale as a Plaister'd Wall; who declared also that when he was deliver'd, the Number of those chain'd to the Ga••••••es for the sake of Religion, was about 37••, who g••••rify'd GOD in their Suffer∣ing••, 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 Unparallell'd Courage and Con∣sta•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉

FINIS.