The Loves of Capt. Goodlake AND MARIANA.

MOst Noble Friend and generous Preser­ver, when you shall have heard through how many various changes and chan­ces of fortune I have run, you will think, con­sidering my age, that every minute of my time (my childhood only excepted) had been a new & distinct misfortune: My birth you already know to have been in the Kingdom of England, a Kingdom sufficiently famous throughout all [Page 8] the World, both for its outward force and in­ward plenty, which as you say, has miracu­lously for so many years maintained a War a­gainst the most Potent Catholique King, and still in all attempts made upon that mighty Monarch gained the upper hand; but because this Kingdom is besides the annexion of Ire­land and Wales in her selfe divided into severall Shires or Counties, many of which have for­merly been particular Kingdoms; 'twill be convenient to give you an account of the exact place of my Nativity. Know then noble Sir, that I was borne nigh unto the famous City of Sarum in the County of Sommerset, in which Shire my Father enjoyed a yearly Revenue of neer fifteen hundred pounds per annum; his name was Goodlake, my Mothers Seymour, which of the two I must needs confesse is the more noble and ancient name; my Father had besides my selfe three Sons and two Daughters, of all which I was the youngest, and so like to enjoy the least part of my Fathers wealth, though during his life he was not at all sparing in giving me as liberal education as my Bro­thers; of whom he took so great care that he thought it not sufficient to have them endowed with learning except they were likewise adorn­ed with all qualities necessary to make a per­fect and compleat Gentleman, such he thought Fencing, riding the great Horse, and other active Exercises which might make them fit upon occasion to serve their Country; nor was he sparing in his cost to learn them Dan­cing, [Page 9] singing, and other lesse usefull exercises, as things fitting to distinguish them from the vul­gar.

My Father died about that time that I arri­ved to seventeen years of age, leaving me be­sides those Gentleman-like qualities that might make me fit to gain a livelyhood and honour in forreign Countries, but a small parcell of his e­state, yet such as with moderation I might have lived upon, but it was hard for me who had been highly bred during my fathers life to con­form my self now to a pension, and so small a one too as threescore Marks a year was, so that before two years were expired I was indebted twice as much as my annuity came to, which made me begin to perceive that whilst I took those courses I headlong pursued my ruine, my debts begun to be dayly called for, which if I paid I must leave my selfe uncapable to subsist, and if not run the hazzard of being imprisoned. Feare of this last made me finding delayes to in­crease the danger, on a suddain to make a con­tract with my elder Brother, and to sell him my annuity, whereby I not only paid my debts but had a considerable sum of money in my purse with which I was resolved to prove my utmost fortunes.

And hoping that I might have the same good hap which oftentimes befals younger Brothers who have nothing but their gentility to main­tain them, that is by gaining the favours of yong Ladies whose plentifull portions might better be given to supply the wants of such persons, [Page 10] whom the ill Laws, or rather the ill customes of England had made poor, then added to the bet­ter fortunes of those who already abounded with superfluity of worldly riches. I put on a resolution to cast in my lot among others, and cloathing my self in a garb much above my slen­der fortunes, by degrees I got into the acquain­tance of many Ladies, among whom I resolved to choose one, both of whose Person and por­tion I could approve, and in short time pitched upon the beauteous Mariana, Joynt heiress with her Sister of the great estate of Sir Robert Molli­neaux, a Family famous in the Western parts of England: I confesse at first the greatnesse of her beauty, parts, and riches did somewhat daunt me, who knew my self so far beneath her in all. At those words the worthy Spinola interrupted him by saying noble friend, though by what your self report, I dare believe your estate much inferiour to that of your beauteous Mi­stresse, yet I must needs say that I find this by that small experience I have had of your con­versation, that no Woman could be possessor of so much virtue, whereof you deserved not to be Patron, and I seriously protest that were I to be Judge, I durst affirm that for parts and Person, you merit the greatest Princess in Chri­stendome. The Captain returned him a civill thanks for his so good an opinion of him, but withall told him that what he spoke were but Hyperbolies, and far above his merit, but to continue my sad story, (said he, (which I only relate as an introduction to a sadder) I being [Page 11] resolved in my former determinations, addrest my selfe unto her in the most humble manner, either my learning, Genius, or condition could furnish me with, but ere I had three times con­versed with her, such was the goodnesse of her nature, that I found that she who had captiva­ted me, was become my vassal, nor were my visits more pleasing to me, then they were ac­ceptable to her; in sum, we past a contract, ap­pointed our day of marriage, and the place where we should the morning before meet, for she was under the tuition of a rigid Unkle her Guardian, who would by no meanes have con­sented to match her with a Person of so low and meane an estate as I was of.

Could I tell you, noble fr [...]end, what inex­pressable passions of joy my soule was possest with at this happy successe! I thought every minute a year, nay an age, till the prefixed time approached; but alas how soon were my con­tents blasted? from what great hope did I on the suddain fall? both our loves and contract, were by her treacherous Chambermaid disco­vered to her Unkle, who yet like a subtle and re­vengefull Fox concealed his knowledge of it, til at the very time when I hoped to have met my beloved Mistresse at the Woodside, nigh her Unkles house, I and my two friends who ac­companied me, were set upon by seven Villains, who lay there by his appointment to destroy me; I confesse I was then raw and unexperien­ced in fights, but the consideration of the busi­nesse I went about made me resolute, and I [Page 12] think it would have added to my courage, had I known the design, as I only thought them Thieves; In short this storm was soon distipa­ted, for almost at the first my two generous friends gallantly assisting me, we might behold three of the slaves trampled under the feet of our Horses, two others wounded, and ready to surrender themselves to our mercy, whilst their two remaining Companions escaped, and took shelter in the wood, those two whom we had taken, began with pittifull moanes to beg our mercy, telling by whom they had been set on, and withall relating the story of my misfor­tune. Gods! into what an extasy of passion did I fall at their relation, though their swords could not force me from my Horse, their piercing words effected it, for I immediatly fell into a swound, and my poor Beast sensible of the weight of my sorrowes, seemed like­wise to yeild and fall with me, whilst one of my friends guarding the two Prisoners, the other endeavoured to bring me again to life, the other performed, they joyntly strove to comfort me with all the perswasive arguments that either love or friendship could furnish them with, that there could be no doubt of Mariana's love and constancy to me, and whilst that endured I had no reason to despaire. That her Unkles violent hatred to me would rather make firme, then a­bate her love: That if he kept her immured from my sight, (as twas to be supposed he would doe) it would but set her wits at work how to find meanes to escape him. That they [Page 13] would alwayes be as ready as they now had been to venture their lives and fortunes to ac­complish my desires. That therefore I should set my heart at rest, and consider with them for our present safety, the way to which we all concluded to be the carrying of our two Priso­ners to the next Justice, which we did, and they without hesitating, confessing what they had before told, were committed to Goale, but soon after by the power of Mariana's Unkle released, whilst I lay yet open to his further revenge.

In the meane time I made all possible enquiry (but very privately) after my Mariana, seem­ing publickly to disown any intention I ever had of courting her, and at length found that by the cruelty of her Unkle she was indeed chamber'd up, and so many spies set upon her, that it was impossible for me either to visit or convey a let­ter to her; yet at length by the help of a Lady, who often used to visit her, I adventured to send her a letter, an answer to which I three dayes expected, but instead of that came the following Challenge.

[Page 15]This unexpected Challenge most extreamly surprized me, but I was much more amazed when I found it subscribed by one of my dearest friends, who had before assisted me in my for­mer attempt to steale away the faire Mariana, and who very well knew that I was contracted to her, I began to muse with my selfe how this might come about, but the Gentleman that brought it, put me out those dumps by desi­ring my speedy answer, which I told him I would find either a friend or a servant of my own to carry, with which he returned to his friend, and I immediately went to seek out Mr. Spencer, the other Gentleman whose courage had saved me from being assasinated by those Villaines which Mariana's Unkle had set by the Woods side to deprive me of my life, but alas! now I expected a second help from this my worthy friend, (on whom indeed the chiefe part of my story will depend) I found him sick of a violent feaver, and he altogether unable to help me, yet such was my passion that I could not refrain to show him Hatton's Challenge; Heavens! into what extremity of frenzy did he fall into at the reading it? he in fury leapes out of his Bed, and protests that neither sick­ness nor death it selfe should hinder him from assisting me to revenge such abominable trea­chery; Nor could I without the help of his Physitian perswade him to return to his rest, and not goe immediately with me to seek out the perjured Villaines, (for so he stiled him) but at length overswayed by my arguments, and by [Page 16] the Physitians: That by it before the next morning he would absolutely endanger the loss of his life, and then I should not only be desti­tute of his help, but likewise loose my dearest friend, he was content to desist, but withall telling me that she did not doubt but the just­nesse of my quarrell would make me able of my selfe to revenge such damned infidelity, that though he knew Hatton to be sufficiently valiant yet his treachery would cowardize his soul, and therefore I should not feare to attempt him single, that he had for many yeares been an in­timate friend of Hatton's, but never knew him guilty of any falceness till now, which he (as well as I) had the charity to believe, pro­ceeded rather from the inticements of Maria­na's Unkle then his own spirit, hardly had he finished to speak to me when Hatton stept into the Chamber, but seeing me there before him, retired with as much hast as he had entred with, only saying as he past out, that he wondred he had received no answer from me, which I told him he should not much longer wait for, nor did he, for immediately I took Pen, Ink, and Paper, and by Spencer's advice, writ him as followeth.

This having sealed, I posted away to him by Mr. Spencer's Page, who immediately returned with an answer, that he was content to meet me single, and withall brought along with him a Ribband, which we guessed to be the length of his sword, and I found it to be the just mea­sure of mine. That night Spencer engaged me by all the loves between us, not to depart from him, till the morning I went to fight, so we passed away the most part of the night in dis­courses of Hatton's basenesse, but concluding that the greatnesse of his estate had moved Ma­riana's Unkle to proffer her in marriage to him, and that her beauty and riches had been the motives to make him accept of the proffer. In the morning about five a clock I took a solemne leave of my deare friend, not knowing but it might be the last, (though that misery was re­served to a more unfortunate hour) who having poured forth his prayers for my good successe, which (sayes he) I doe not doubt will attend the justnesse of your cause, bid me adieu, and [Page 19] I fearing least I had overslipped some minutes of the time, made hast to the appointed place, where I found my adversary ready to receive me, We both without speaking began to strip of our Doublets, and being now ready to en­counter each other, he first broke silence, tel­ling me that if I would resigne up to him my in­terest in the beauteous Mariana, and set her free from all promises and contracts, I might live; otherwise his sword should force her from my heart: to which I replyed, That he could not but know that I prized the enjoyment of my deare Mariana (for mine said I) I will in de­spight of you call her) far above my life, and therefore any proposition of parting with her rather then may dearest blood was vaine and ir­rational, that I might with more reason per­swade him to relinquish pursuite of that to which he had nor could pretend any right to: To this he made no other reply, but that we came not then thither to talk but doe, and therewith made a desperate passe at me, but it was my fortune to put by his point, and be­fore he could recover himselfe to give him a mortal thrust into the right side, at which he fell, saying no more then goe now and enjoy the price of my blood they Mari-a-na- I must confesse I was sorry when I saw him fall, for I would not willingly have killed kim, hoping he might yet have been perswaded to desist further pursuite of his love, and have proved as true a friend as at first he had been, but seeing that his wound was past remedy, 'twas in vaine for [Page 20] me to stay and lament him, but rather study my own safety, having therefore wrapped his bo­dy in his Cloake, I took my Horse from the hedge where I had tyed him, and with all speed galloped to tell Spencer what I had done, he at first expressed a great deale of sorrow for the so suddaine death of one that was once his friend, but you tell me no more (sayes he) then what I expected, and think he deserved, so that we have more reason to lament his folly then his death, but however (continued he) the strict Lawes lately made against duelling will hardly admit of such defensory excuses, and though he might fall justly by your sword, yet the power of his friends will endanger your life, let me therefore advise you to make all possible speed out of England, and because I know not how your slender fortunes may have furnisht you, let me beg of you to accept this (taking down a little Cabinet from the Beds head, and giving it me) as token of my love, which if I live and have the happinesse to know where you reside, I shall be most highly obliged if you ad­mit me to supply farther, otherwise, if I dye I shall dedicate some of my last breath to the re­membrance of our friendship, I could not tell what to answer to so noble and generous a friend, but distilling some teares out of griefe, that I was forced to depart from him, I let him by those silent showres know how much I pri­zed his goodnesse, and that the gratitude of my soule was greater then my tongue could ex­presse, having therefore kissed him again and [Page 21] againe, and poured forth ten thousand Prayers for his health, as he did for my good successe; we sorrowfully bid farewell, and I taking Horse rid with all speed possible to the Sea Coast, where finding a Ship going with fresh supplyes of provisions to the English-Souldiers in Holland I embarqued my selfe on her, and in seven days we came to Vlishing, whence I travel'd to the Hague, and there changing my name to Love-ill listed my selfe a Souldier, to recount to you Noble Spinola any passages of this war, were but to give you a dark and blind repetition of a thing which your selfe already know most per­fectly: I confessed (said Spinola) I have from my Father and other friends, besides some smal experience of my own, received an exact rela­tion of those wars, nor must I now forget that I have often heard him mention you as a Person, who of all the English Captaines, behaved your selfe with most courage and noblenesse; I confesse (continued Goodlake) I was in a small time of being there, more by the partiall fa­vour of the English Generall, then any desert of mine, commissioned Captain of a Foot Comp [...]ny, and such a Company as had they had a Captaine equall, either in Courage or experience to the meanest of them, might have performed wonders. But to return to my said story, my deare Mariana sadly lamented my losse and absence, and would her selfe, had she not been so narrowly watched by her Uncle, have adventured to have found me, but yet was she not by reason of my absence so closely re­strained [Page 22] from her liberty as formerly, so that we found wayes, by meanes of my dear friend Spencer to keep a correspondence, for the ge­nerous Spencer still continued his noblenesse to me in that high degree, that he not only seve­veral times sent me supplyes of money, but had expended great sums, and spent his whole stock of Interest at Court in endeavouring to procure me a pardon from the Queen, but it could not be blamed, nor would (such was the power of my adversaries friends) ever have been granted, had not my fortune, and the re­solution and courage of my Company, rather then any personal valour of mine, allotted me to be the first, that upon storming the Brill, en­tered the Cittadell, I have (said Spinola inter­rupting him) heard many gallant Persons des­cant upon that action, and they have generally concluded it an act rather of desperation then prudence, there being little to be said in justi­fication of it, but only that it prospered; I speak not this, continued Spinola, of your par­ticular assault, (for that being pursuant to command, demonstrated you truly valiant) but to the action in general; 'Tis very true, (said Goodlake) it was so esteemed by many under­standing Souldiers, but however it might be in it selfe, sure I am it proved fortunate to me, for by it I got that pardon, which for so many years before I had sued for in vaine; You may easily imagine my deare friend, that I had after seven or eight yeares banishment a great desire to see again my native Country, but a far great­er [Page 23] to see my beloved Mariana (who still for my sake continued a Virgin) and my deare friend Spencer; I therefore having with very small in­treaty obtained leave of the Generall, to passe over to England, imbarqued my selfe at Rotter­dam, and Favente Neptuno arrived in two dayes at Dover, where my earnest desire to see my friends, made me stay no longer then I could provide my selfe with Horses to post towards them, which diligent care soon found, and un­wearied speed made me the next day in the evening, to arrive at the House of my generous and noble friend Spencer, where without fur­ther Ceremonies I entred, and surprized him in a sad and serious discourse with his Sister, and some other Ladies, but little did I think that that griefe which I saw, had overshadowed their visages, did so much concern me, my deare Spencer immediately came running towards me and imbracing and kissing me ten thousand times congratulated my safe arrival, at length to my Native soile and friends, but yet me thought that his countenance was somewhat clouded, and not so serene and complacent as I had for­merly known it, besides I observed that there were, whilst I was renewing (as it were) my friendship with Spencer, strange whisprings a­mong the Ladies, and that their former be­moanings were turned into a dumb silence, me thought this boaded something extraordinary but what to think I could not tell, nor did I at all imagine that it had so neerly concerned me, till having saluted the Ladies, I desired [Page 24] them to make me partaker of their sorrows, by knowing the cause of them, alas Sir, said one of them, our sorrow (if there be any here whose lookes or other jesture may make you deem them sorrowful) is no other then what is caused either by the dulnesse of the weather, or some unknown reason which we cannot be sensible of, Alas Madam, said I, your goodnesse must par­don me, if I doe yet believe, that so great a dejection of spirit, (as I perceive in this whole company) must necessarily proceed from some greater occasion then the dulnesse of the wea­ther, which to me seemes pleasant, unlesse (said I) I be that unknown reason from whence it doth proceed, and turning thereupon to Mr. Spencer, whose visage testified more discontent then any other; I told him, that he had not for­merly used to receive me with such a show of griefe and sadnesse, and therefore desired him to let me know the occasion, for otherwise I should be inforced to believe that some malici­ous Person had scandalized me to him, and pos­sessed him with such things as might make him think I had justly forfeited his former friendship which if so, I desired to know my crime and ac­cusers, that I might confesse and crave pardon, or right my selfe; Hereupon with many vows he protested there was no such thing, that I was as high in his good opinion, and that he e­steemed my friendship as much if not more, as ever that his present melancholy aud dejected­nesse proceeded from he knew not what inward cause which had likewise poured its influence [Page 25] upon the whole Company, This though it little satisfied me, yet I was forced to conform my humour to theirs, for I could not perswade them from you, and indeed I who had the most reason to be sad knew no cause for it, till Bed­time being come my deare Spencer accompany­ing me to my Chamber, I began more seriously to examine why he who was alwayes wont to be of a joviall temper, had now so utterly ba­nisht mirth from his soule, especially at my ar­rivall, Oh my deare friend (said he fetching withall a deep sigh) since I must tell you the cause which I would not doe, did I not know you a Person who could absolutely command your passions; know that the very sight of you encreased my sorrow, for your sake did I first conceive it, and you are the only Person in the World it most concernes. I was somewhat start­led to heare him say so, and what is it (said I in some passion) can make me so miserable that you should thus have cause to grieve for me? is Mariana turn'd inconstant? and hath she now I am come home fraught with full hopes to en­joy her, plighted her faith unto another? It cannot sure be, oh no, (replyed he) she conti­nued constant to you even to her last; to her last? (said I) and is she then dead? oh Hea­vens! what cursed stars was I born under, thus to conspire to make me miserable for ever? Well Mariana since after so many delayes I can­ [...]ot enjoy thee living, I will follow thee to [...]eath; and therewith drew my sword, intend­ing to have peirced my bosome, but was hin­dred [Page 26] by my too pittifull friend; and what (says he) though Mariana was (whilst living) your only comfort, what comfort will it be to you to follow her in death, where you can have no further hopes of conversing, whilst her constant and innocent soule is fled to Heaven, when yours, blackt with that hideous crime of selfe murder, must necessarily be hurried to a black­er region. Live, live, and live, so that since the fates have denyed you to enjoy each other here, you may enjoy eternal Society hereafter, I could not tell how or what to answer him, but throwing my selfe into the Bed, I lay there (and Spencer by me) for he would not trust me alone lamenting my misery, in such sort, that before morning I had contracted a most violent burn­ing Feaver, which I wished heartily might have carried me to my grave, and it had answered my hopes (notwithstanding all the care of Phy­sitians) had not the sweet converse of the gene­rous Spencer been more effectuall then all their Potions, here it was (during my sicknesse) that he and I contracted an indissoluble knot of friendship, so firme that nothing but a most cruell and perverse fate could have ever parted us; Just at those words, came a servant to ac­quaint Spinola that a Messenger from the Senate attended to speak with him, which he desired to do with all speed, the businesse as he said be­ing of great importance, He therefore craving excuse of Captain Goodlake for his forced al [...] sence, with promise immediatly to return, we [...] into his Palace where in the great Hall he found [Page 27] the Messenger attending him, who brought him not only letters but an expresse command to repaire immediatly to Genoua, having dispatch­ed the Messenger, and perused his letters, he returnes into the Arbour to Captaln Goodlake, whom he findes sitting with his eyes fixed on the ground according to his accustomary me­lancholy posture, but raising himselfe up at his approach, was about to continue his story when he was stopt by Spinola's telling him; that at the earnest entreaty of the Mantuan Embassadors the Duke and Senate of Genoua had granted one thousand Horse, and two thousand Foot to the Duke of Mantua to assist him in his present wars against his too potent enemy the Duke of Fer­rara, whereof they had thought fit, for what deserts of his he knew not to nominate him General, to which charge he was ordered im­mediatly to repaire; That though he durst not presume to desire his Company in those Wars, yet he would willingly to gain it, could he be dispenced with by the Senate, surrender to him his place of Generall, and accompany him in what inferiour rank he should think him wor­thy of, but since the place of General was con­ferred on him by the Senate (who used not to entrust any strangers with the chiefe command of their Forces) and could not therefore be dis­posed of by him, yet he desired that if his spirit inclined him yet to the Wars, he would be pleased to accept of being Lieutenant Generall of his Horse, and next Person in command to himselfe; The offer was so generous that Cap­tain [Page 28] Goodlake could not refuse it, though he would not at first seem to accept it, but rather desired he might attend him as a private Person till overcome by Spinola's importunities, he undertook the charge, though as he told him that being a stranger he could not but expect the envy and hatred of many gallant Persons of his Nation who might themselves justly aspire to that employment, and think themselves wronged if a stranger were therein preferred before them; To which Spinola replyed that he doubted not but to find such gallant beha­viour in him, as would make him above the envy of the proudest Genouese, Goodlake thank­ed him for his good opinion of him, but the businesse requiring hast, they left off farther complements, and the Captain being furnished with Horse and attendants by the generous Spi­nola, they set forward together towards Geno­ua, but in their way, and not halfe a mile from the City, they might see their small Army both Horse and Foot ready drawn up to attend the coming of their Commander, who having first well viewed them, and then recommended Goodlake as a Person whom he had thought fit to appoint their Lieutenant Generall, and they upon his commendations received him with great applause, he ordered them to march and take up their quarters towards the borders of Mantua's Country, and himselfe in two dayes time following them overtook them at Friuli, a little Town in that Dukes Territory, not ten miles from which between four and five thou­sand [Page 29] Savoyards (who were come to the assistance of the Duke of Ferrara, and had by treachery taken a Castle belonging to the Flaminij a noble Family of the Mantovess) were encamped, upon these by the advice of Goodlake, the noble Spi­nola resolves to give the first assault, and there­fore advancing from Friuli in the dark of the night lodges his Army within a mile of the ene­my, intending about break of day to fall in up­on them at unawares, but they having advice by their Scouts, had drawn out into an advan­tagious ground ready to receive them, yet that not at all abated Spinola's courage, but having given the charge of the right wing of Horse to Goodlake, and of the left to Segr. Alexandro Iu­stiniani, himselfe commanding the body, began the fight about break of day, which continued doubtfull (the Savoyards being more in number then the Genoveses) for about two houres, till Captain Goodlake first, and after him Iustiniani having broken both the wings of Horse, the battell clearly showed it selfe on the Genoveses side, for Captain Goodlake having left sufficient numbers to pursue the enemies scattered left wing, and make good what he had gained with a select party of Horse, came flying to the suc­cour of the noble Spinola, who was somewhat oppressed, for the Savoy infantry being both more numerous and better experienced Soul­diers then the Genovese had gained ground of them from the very beginning of the fight, and were now ready to put them to a totall rout, when Captain Goodlake falling into the reare of [Page 30] the enemies infantry turned the scale so, that those who before were ready to fly were now pursuers for the Savoyards; Seeing themselves deserted by their own Horse on both sides, were no longer able to bear the brunt, but confused­ly breaking their ranks, either ran away or yeilded themselves to mercy; Yet a small par­ty of them resolutely maintained the Field till Iustiniani coming in likewise with a party of Horse, and they now seeing nothing but the visage of ghastly deaths, presented, threw down their armes, and cryed for quarter. Thus was the whole force of Savoy, which came to the assistance of the Duke of Ferrara, either to­tally dispersed or taken Prisoners, and the ge­nerous Spinola having loaded Captain Goodlake and Iustiniani with the honour of that dayes victory to pursue his good fortune, immediat­ly advanced with his Army to the Seige of the Castle of Flaminii, a place accounted almost im­pregnable both for its situation and fortificati­on, and won only by the Savoyards golden bul­lets shot into the purse of the treacherous Go­vernour, before it he sits down, resolving that if he could not by force yet by starving he would gain it before he parted, but gallant Goodlake not approving such delatory proceed­ings (things naturall to the Italian) with much intreaty perswaded him to play his batteries, though against the opinion of most Command­ers in the Army, who alledged that it was im­possible with Bafilisco's, much less with their small artillery to move those impenitrable wals, [Page 31] that should they make a breach, yet there was so great a power in the Castle both of officers Souldiers fled in the late defeate, that it would be impossible to assault it, or having assaulted to carry it; That their own numbers within would soon consume them, and give them an easy vi­ctory, but Spinola waved all the reasons of his other Commanders to comply with the Coun­cel of his English Lieutenant General, who used no other argument to perswade him then that by how much greater the danger, by so much more glorious would the conquest be, so the Artillery incessantly played upon the Castle for two dayes and nights, which not only terrified the Defendants, but about the evening of the second day made a considerable breach in the wall, which the next morning Captain Goodlake with a choice party assaulted, and after two re­pulses from his resolute enemies entred, and left room for the rest of the Army to follow him, who rather expected to have ransomed his body to burial, then to have followed his steps so easily into a place by them thought im­pregnable. Here it was that Spinola being re­ceived in at the Castle Gates, began with aston­ishment to admire Goodlake's valour, and to tell him that whatever honour the Genoveses had gained by these exploits, ought justly to be transferred upon him, and therefore desired him to accept of the government of that Castle which being a frontier, could not be put into more trusty and valiant hands, but Goodlake taking little notice of his extravagant praises, [Page 32] (as he call'd them) desired first to be excused from that employment, as delighting more in field actions, then to be immur'd between walls: He then presented him the Prisoners he had taken in the Castle, desiring his mercy for them, and that they might have liberty to re­turn to their own Country; to which Spinola replyed, That though it was not the usuall custome of the Italians to be so mercifull to their enemies, yet for his sake (whom he found endowed with as much compassion as valour) he was ready to yeild to their release, and there­fore he commanded that they might have liber­ty to depart; but complements being passed over, care was taken to refortifie the Garrison, during which time Spinola received Orders from the Duke of Mantua to lodge there with his Army, because he had received advice, that the Duke of Savoy was with all speed raising a second Army to regaine that honour which the first had lost, that he thought no Men were fit­ter to combate the second then those who had been victorious over the first, that for his own Forces he thought them of strength enough to engage Ferrara's Duke. This idlenesse, though it displeased Spinola, robbing him as he thought of some glory, yet was pleasant to him againe, because he had now the oppertunity to desire Goodlake to continue the story of his misfor­tunes which he readily assented to; and pur­sued thus.

The Loves of SPENCER AND The Magnanimous Maid.

MOST noble friend, what I before told you of my selfe in particular, was only as an Introduction to the story of a Person whose strange variety of fortunes, will certainly both delight and afflict you, it is the worthy Spencer, whom I'me sure you remember to have often heard me mention in the relation of my private misfortunes, as my dearest friend, a Person he was born of a noble Family, and en­joyed an estate suitable to his blood, nor were his qualities any other then such as might make him esstemed by all, his friendship indeed was the only thing that revived my spirits, which would elce certainly have droopt for the losse my beloved Mariana, he often protesting that he would be an [...]ther Mariana to me, and that it should be my fault if ever our friendships were severed or disturbed; who would not have rejoyced in so noble a friend, or who would not lament the losse of him, oh heavens! the very thoughts of it confound my senses; (at these words he seemed to be in a great con­fusion, [Page 34] which made the generous Spinola desist from interrupting him in breathing forth his passion, till again recollecting himselfe he con­tinued) The time of my recovery after my violent Feaver for the losse of my deare Maria­na, was at the same instant, that an Army was levying to make assault upon Fiall, in which (when the thrice noble Earle of Essex was de­clared General) many of the Gentry of England listed themselves as Reformadoes to accompany so gallant and worthy a Person: I have indeed heard much (said the generous Spinola inter­rupting him) of the prowesse and valour of that renowned Person, which makes it a riddle both to me, and indeed to all the World, how he should since by the malice of his enemies be re­duced to so much misfortune, 'tis very true, continued Goodlake, and I have often heard the Queen's judgment highly taxed in throwing him so easily from her favour, but he was then (continued he) in his glory, and accounted so gallant a pattern for the English youth, both of the Gentry and Nobility to follow, that they strove to emulate one another who should show himselfe most ready to serve him, amongst the rest my noble friend Spencer engaged himself to wait upon him in this gallant enterprise, and that intimate friendship which we had now contracted, made me rather chuse to quit my command in the low Countries, then my friend whom I was resolved nothing but death should rob me of; nor was he conscious of lesse: eso­ [...]utions on his part, but being acquainted with [Page 35] my determination to accompany him with most affectionate embraces told me, that he should be by me of all Men most happy, having so faith­full and trusty a friend to be a Spectator and guide of his actions, which would provoke him to those noble attempts which want of skil and experience might otherwise detain him from; I returned him a thanks suitable to the honour he did me in those expressions, withall desiring him that we might make all speed pos­sible to Plymouth, for there the whole Fleet was to randevouze, least by delay (the confluence of the Gentry to attend upon the Generall in this voyage being so great) we should be depri­ved of those accomodations, which other wise we might enjoy, he highly approved my mo­tion, so in three dayes having provided our selves of all necessaries fitting, we set forward, but at our arrivall at Plymouth found not the Fleet in so great readinesse as we expected, but that we might have taken more time to have given Conge to our friends and acquaintance, yet being now there we thought it a vanity to return, least so many Ceremonies with them might in the end hinder us of our intended voyage, so in that Town we provided our selves with such lodging as we could get, re­solving with patience to attend the motion of the Fleet, whilst in the mean time the same of a most beauteous Virgin, who though but of mean Parents, being but a Tanners Daughter of Somersetshire, and at present Servant at a Tavern in that City) was for her excellent and most [Page 36] bewitching features, but above all for her sweet and modest carriage, which seemed to show somewhat of noblenesse in her beyond her birth or present condition, stiled the glory of the West) invited us (out of curiosity to see her) to goe and repast our selves one afternoon at her Masters house, whether the same drew ma­ny more Customers then we, I confesse at the first report of her (which was to all Mens seem­ing given somwhat extravangantly) I did believe her faire, but not such a wonder of beauty as she was represented, but when I came to see her, me thought she had somewhat in her that resembled my dead Mariana, and so far exceed­ed the report I had heard of her, that had not the remembrance of her restrained me, I had certainly been taken with her, but the snare I escaped my deare friend Spencer fell into, for having by some experience made proofe of the sweetnesse of her disposition, observed her noble yet modest carriage, he was so passionatly affected with her, that nothing but enjoyment could satisfie his desires, for they were not yet come to that pitch of love as to think of mar­rying one so much beneath him both in birth and fortunes; You will wonder noble friends that I trouble your eares with this relation of a Person of so low condition, but when you shall have heard the full progresse of their loves, you will find that which will both delight and con­tent you; no meanes, did my deare Spencer leave unassayed by promises, gifts, courtships, or whatever elce can or might endeare Man to [Page 37] Woman, to accomplish his desires; but so im­pregnable did he find the rock of her chastity, though she seemed likewise to expresse a very great affection for him, but that with such a modesty as became her birth and the difference of their fortunes; In sum, after he had made a tedious triall of her honesty, and endeavoured but all in vaine to blast her honour, he resolves with himselfe to marry her, and to me imparts his resolutions, I was surprized to hear him speak so much below himselfe, and what then said I, will you now leave this glorious enter­prize wherin you have engaged your selfe, and whereon your eternall honour may depend to tye your selfe here at home to a Person so much beneath you in birth and fortunes, a Tanners Daughter, a Tavern Servant, one who per­haps only sensible of the passion wherein you burn for her, counterfiets a chastity to you whilst in this publique place she prostitutes her selfe to others, Doe not (sayes he in extremi­ty of passion) prophane so much goodnesse, my very soule tels me she is all virtue, nor can I think but my gifts and promises which I believe have been greater then any others would tempt her were her spotlesse virtue to be corrupted, In sum sayes he, should the General himselfe but tell me she were vicious, I would make him feel the point of my sword, which I shall as rea­dily draw in defence of her honour, as of my own life; therefore by the inviolable friendship contracted between us let me beg you to desist, from further mentioning her birth, or blemish­ing [Page 38] her fame, for my eares are not capable of hearing any other sound, then that she is faire and virtuous; to which I (seeing him so reso­lute) replyed, that what I spake, was but the advice of a true and cordial friend, who prized his honour as my own, but since I found him so absolutely determined in his love to Besse Brid­ges, (for so was that faire Maid called) I would not only desist to perswade him from it, but assist him what I could in it, but withall advising to make some farther tryal of her, and not point blanck to marry her, for he might easily be sen­sible how great a blemish it would be to his ho­nour, if she should afterwards be found trainted: He was so rejoyced to heare these comfortable words of mine, (for so he termed them) that clapping his armes about my neck, and kissing me, oh now sayes he, I know thou art my friend indeed, but how is it possible (sayes he) that I can make tryall of her farther, the Fleet being almost ready to depart, and no excuse can I in honour make to stay here when they are gone, you must venture that Sir, (said I) it may be before the departure of the Fleet somewhat may happen, which may give you occasion both to make tryall of her love and honesty, but little did I think when I spake those words, that such a fatall occasion would happen indeed, as there did soon after, for my Spencer continuing his wonted visits to his beloved Elizabeth, it happened one day that some Gallants desiring the sight of her, (for as I told you Sir before, 'twas her same drew Company to the House) [Page 39] and she not being permitted by Spencer to go to them, they with a boistrous rudenesse, not only forced into our room, but in a most uncivill manner began to abuse her mean birth and pre­sent state, which so inraged her Spencer, that by a desperate thrust he deprived one of them of the further use of his tongue, for having now used it so lavishly, his two friends▪ seeing him fall easily, gave us way to make an escape to our lodging, which was pretty private, whether being come, Spencer in an excesse of passion throwes himself upon the Bed, laments his hard fortune, curses his stars, and in a desperate man­ner, would have attempted his own death, had not I prevented him, yet could not all the ar­guments I could use, asswage his extream griefe, for how (sayes he) can you speak me a word of comfort, who am reduced to this miserable con­dition, for my inconsiderate rashnesse has not only burdned me with the black stain and guilt of murder, and hath laid me open to an igno­minious death, but that which above all grieves me, forces me to lose the presence of a love so faire, so sweet, so good, so chast, so virtuous that the World cannot parallel her, oh Goodlake tell me not then of comfort; Alas Sir (said I) 'tis true you have laid your selfe open to all these inconveniences, but yet the way shun them or at least remedy them is not this, immoderate griefe, if you stay here the law as you say will very speedily pursue you, and what comfort will it be for you to see me dye with you, could I dye for you, I should let the World and you [Page 40] know and see how willingly and undauntedly I would sacrifice my life for so good a friend, come Sir cheare up your spirits, there may yet be remedies to all these miseries, fly and secure your selfe; Fly and secure my selfe (said he) why that is my greatest misery that I must be forced to do so, and leave my love behind me; That may be but for a short time (said I) re­member that others (my selfe) have been made subject to the same frownes of adverse fortune, let those arguments of yours which were too powerfull for me to gainsay the flying from my deare Mariana, now prevaile with you, be­sides (said I) you have now an occasion offered to make tryall of your Loves fidelity, and whe­ther she be worthy those attributes which you are pleased to give her. And art thou still doubtfull of her virtue? (said he, raising him­selfe from the Bed) thou shall see me make such tryall of her constancy, as shall make thee de­clare her worthy not only of mine, but of the love of the greatest Prince in Europe, but alas! (continued he) how do we feed our selves with fancies? how is it possible that we should ei­ther speak with, or send to her, for that trouble not your selfe, (said I) but give me your ring and I will undertake to rid you of that care, he immediatly slipt it of his finger, and I having before sent his Boy for one Mr. Forset, a Gentle­man of whose approved fidelity I had often had experience in the Netherlands, he just at that in­stant entred the Chamber, to whom I gave a full relation of our sad disaster, intreating him [Page 41] first to provide the best Horses he could pro­cure in the Town, and having left them at an appointed place in the Roade to Foy, a Haven Town in the west of England, where one squa­dron of our Fleet lay under the command of that famous Cavalier Sir Walter Rawleigh, to go with that Ring to Besse Bridges, and acquaint her with that the owner of it expected her at the place appointed where we would not faile to meet her in the dusk of the evening which then approached; He performed all things accord­ing to our wish, for when we came thither we found Horses ready both for our selves and our men, and scarce had we lookt upon them, but in came Forset & Besse Bridges loaden with gold, for so noble a spirit had this virtuous Maid far above her birth, and education, that she did not only desert her Lover in this his extreame ne­cessity, but likewise brought him fifty pieces out of her own stock (besides one hundred which he had left in her custody) fearing least (being far from his Friends and Country) he might be surprized and taken before he could send for money to facilitate his escape, we left the two Lovers to take their leaves, which was done with that affection as those who are true Lovers indeed, are only able to be judges of, and Spen­cer having returned (her with many applauses of her fidelity, and vowes never to be any others then hers) both her fifty pound given her the hundred pound she had in custody, consigned over to her his Trunks with things of very rich value, and allotted her a House in Foy part of [Page 42] his possessions to live in till his return, but especially recommending his picture to her which she vow'd to keep during her life, and given he [...] a strict charge, that as she had hitherto maintained her selfe chast and vertuous in de­spite of the scandals, and to the envy of the World, so she would for the future conserve her honour as a jewell more precious then beauty or riches, took a sad farewell of her. And we immediatly Horsing, rad with all speed possible to Foy, where we arrived next morning early, just at the nick of time that the Fleet had order to saile, so immediatly getting aboard the Admirall, we to our thinking bid adieu to the English shore, for longer time then we were absent from it, for we were by an unhappy ac­cident forced again to visit it sooner then we thought for, our Squadron having joyned with the rest of the Fleet, had scarce got forty leagues from our beloved Country, when a hideous and dreadfull tempest from the Northwest assayled us with so much fury, that we were not able to bea [...]e up our sayles against it, whilst a thick and black mist surrounded us, taking away all light, but what the terrible flashes of lightning afforded, the Sky with horrible thunder, and the troubled Sea with boistrous whirling storms beating the billows against the Ship with dread­full noyse, wrought so fearfully for the space of four dayes, that the very Marriners themselves were abashed, the Souldiers affrighted, and the Fleet dispersed, not without very great danger recovered the Coast, where being come, though [Page 43] others were glad of their safety, yet Spencer grew melancholly, fearing the danger he was in, should he be discovered, but fortune was so favourable unto us, that our Ship could not reach Plimouth, so we put into Falmouth the very uttermost part of England, yet not very far distant from Foy, where Spencer had injoyned his beloved Besse Bridges to reside in an House of his own, for no small parcell of his estate lay thereabouts, yet though he was so nigh he durst not adventure either to goe or send to her, least some sinister accident might discover him (for it was given out that he had deserted the Fleet and was fled another way) and so his covetise to have but one short sight of her, might de­prive him both of her and his life together, yet she hearing of the Fleet, being driven back, and that the Ship which only she and Forcet knew, he was imbarqued upon, was put into Falmouth, not being able to restrain her passion, was more adventurous then he, but withall cautious, and therefore recommended to the care of Forcet (whom she knew faithfull) a few lines to this purpose.

Forcet having received this Letter from her with further instructions what he should say, fled on the wings of friendship to Falmouth, and in lesse then a dayes time got aboard our Ship; should I tell you (noble Spinola) with what joy he was received by Spencer, or with what affection he enquired after the health of his beloved Mistresse, you would think I hy­perbolized, for it certainly exceeded all passi­ons that the most in [...]nared Lover was ever yet sensible of, but being briefly informed by him of all things to his utmost content, he address­ed himselfe to returne an answer to her Let­ter, which he did in these words.

[Page 47]Having recommended this Letter with in­numerable loves to his dear Mistresse to Foreet, and taken Conge of him, he retired himselfe to to his Cabbin, and spent the most part of that night in melancholly cogitations and lamentati­tions of his misery that he was forced to de­part from one who so much loved him and was so much beloved of him; when the next mor­ning those thoughts were broke off by the noyse the Mariners made, which gave him and me notice the Fleet was again departing, wherefore getting up, we found our selves al­ready under sail with a prosperous gale, which for some dayes we were favoured with, but being come into the Bay of Biscaia were the second time encountred with a violent storm, though not so terrible as the first, yet by it we lost the main yard of our ship which forced Rawleigh with his Squadron to stay behind the General, and thereby loose him the opportu­nity of burning the Spanish Fleet in Faroll, but having mended our yard, we made all possible speed we could after Essex who had steered his course to Fiall, but coming there before him, and being distressed for fresh water, perceiving likewise from aboard ship that the inhabitants were packing up their goods to flie, and that the Haven was commodious to land in, with­out staying longer for the General we landed four miles from the Town, and having routed a party of Spaniards which came thither to op­pose us, we entered the City, which we found destitute of inhabitants; I should not trouble [Page 48] you Sir with a relation of this enterprize which was so publickly known, if it were not to hint to you that this very action did contribute much to the fall of that Gallant Essex, who be­ing seduced by some evill Counsell as to be­lieve that Rawleigh had made this attempt on­ly to rob him of his glory, and accused that he had in contempt of him and his authority bro­ken the discipline war by landing without the consent of the Commander in chief, which Essex greedy of glory, and sensible of ambitious mind and ill affection towards him, easily be­lieved, and though he were one of the three Commanders of the Fleet, publickly checked him and cashired several Captaines his friends and favorites, whereby he contracted to him­selfe an enemy, who had not the least hand in his ruine and destruction: This Town we kept neer upon two moneths, Spencer beginning by action and absence to shake off his Love Melan­cholly, so that we jovially passed away the dayes, till about the time of our departure there happened an accident which of all but one that I ever felt most afflicted me, as we were walking together without the walls of the Town, we espied two Captains earnestly disputing & each challenging the other to have basely rob'd him of his honor got in the skir­mish with the Spaniards, when my dear friend Spencer perceiving that from words, they began to draw their swords, ran in unto them, and by perswasions endeavoured to draw them from such rash encounters, telling them that [Page 49] before they yet went home they might chance [...]nd enemies enough to imploy their valors on, [...]nd not destructively weild their swords to one anothers ruine; That that which they [...]ccounted courage, was nothing but a despe­ [...]ate folly, fitter to be practised by Beasts than Men. but they being deaf to all wholsom perswasions, and not at all giving ear to what he advised them, began desperately to foine at one another, when Spencer extending his piety so far, as to endeavour the parting of them, received a wound (to all our apprehen­sions) and his own too) mortal; I was en­ [...]raged to see that he should so suffer for his too much goodness, and was ready to have revenged [...]his wrong, had he not charged me by all ties of friendship to desist from any such attempt, and withall advised the two Captains to take care of their own safety, which generous offer of his they (having first expressed their sorrow, for having unwillingly abused his too noble spirit) accepted, and left me alone with my (to my best apprehension) dying friend, who I endea­voured by all means to comfort in this his last condition; nor was he of himself uncomfort­lesse, but rather seeming not at all dejected, bid welcom to his death, which he confessed a just revenge of his having so rashly and sud­dainly slaine the Gentleman at Plymouth; this was the sum of his discourse to himself whilest I was busied in binding up his wound, which bled so fast, that I was fearfull that if perchance the wound might happen not to be mortal, yet [Page 50] the too violent effusion of blood might deprive him of his life, and so it almost had, for not­withstanding my endeavours (which though they were the utmost I could do, were but poor in themselves) he was in a manner abso­lutely fainted away before I could get any as­sistance to help me carry him to the town, but at length before he was quite spent, there came in three or four Souldiers, running not so much to assist him as to seize me for his mur­der, for they no sooner arrived at us, but they began violently to lay hands upon me, so that to have freed my selfe from their causelesse gripes, I had like to have committed that upon some of them which I was falsly supposed to have done upon Spencer, and their rudenesse (for so I interpreted that) had assuredly been the cause of my sending some of them to their eternal mansion, had not one who seemed to have some influences over the rest, commanded them to desist from further oppressing me, and withall told me that my opposing my selfe a­gainst their numbers, would not only prove a piece of desperation rather than vallor, but would likewise increase my guilt; I forced him to stop at that word guilt, for I wondered I must confesse extreamly what he meant by it, and therefore earnestly pressed him to tell me from whence such discourses might proceed; from whence (said he) can you imagine, but from the death of that Gentleman (pointing to Spencer;) I was more amazed then before to hear him say so, yet had lesse cause; for I now [Page 51] supposed that the two Captains fearing least I should not be so generous as to make good my Spencers promise to them, and ingagement of me not to reveal them, had resolved (hoping him absolutely dead) by this stratagem to take a­way my life, and so the better acq [...]it them­selves; in which imaginations I had almost broken that tie of friendship wherein Spencer had bound me not to disclose them, and re­vealed them as the actors of that Tragedy, but recollecting my self, and observing that the Gentleman had taken notice of my discom­posure, and still expected what answer I would make to his charge; I told him, That by what he had said, I might easily guesse that they were come thither to apprehend me for the supposed murder of that Gentleman, that I was very well content to yeild my selfe his prisoner, though I were innocent of the least thought of such an action, which without the prosecution of the Law I should sufficiently demonstrate by put­ting in execution my resolve not long to out­live him, That I had yet some hopes that his wound was not mortal, but that the great ef­fusion of blood had brought him into that weak condition, out of which some care might perhaps bring him at least for so long time as that he might clear me, for though (said I) I am resolved to follow him in death, I would not willingly do it with the aspersion of being his murderer; and therefore I craved the assistance of some of those that attended him to carry the body of my dear friend into the town, [Page 52]where we might have the help of some Surgi­on, not only to bring him again to those senses which he had lost with excesse of bleeding, but likewise to give judgment upon the wound, and if pssible effect his cure: The Gentleman very readily assented to what I desired, and having commanded some of those that were there, to take up the body with all tendernesse possible, and others to guard me (though I tould him it was unnecessary, for I would not flie from the body of my so dear friend, un­lesse it were to find out some death) we soon reached the town, and as soon after by the help of a Chyrurgion belonging to a Merchants ship then in the Road, my dear friend reco­vered his senses, and lifting up his eyes (not knowing well where he was) he was a good while silent, till espying me; And art thou there my dear Goodlake (said he) have the fates been so happy then as to permit me once again to see thee before I die? then are my joyes compleat, and I shall willingly yeild my selfe into the jaws of death, if that cruell Tyrant will but give me so much time as to lay some commands upon you, which I shall injoyn you to be true to; these words and his relation that endeavouring to part two persons strangers to him, he by chance from one of their swords received that fatal wound, acquitted me in all mens judgements, so the guard was dismissed, but the Gentleman who commanded them would have stayed longer, had not there at that instant come in a messenger, who acquaint­ed [Page 53] him that al persons whatsoever belonging to the Fleet, were by the General commanded immediately to repair to their several ships up­on pain of death, for the Fleet was even ready to set sail, whereupon having wished me all happinesse, and Spencer the recovery of his health, he took his leave, and I having waited on him forth, and returned him a due thanks for his civility, made hast in again to enjoy a­lone the company of my dear friend, whom I found in a manner even ready to give up the ghost, his faintnesse having again seized him, yet at sight of me he seemed somwhat comfort­ed, and rearing himselfe up in the bed, told me that he had several commands to lay upon me, which he would conjure me by all the ties of friendship, by all the obligations he had up­on me, by his last dying words punctually to obey; O Lord! sir, (said I) think not that I have or can have any power to obey any com­mand whatsoever, except it be to follow you in death; but why should I talk of death since there is yet hopes that you may live, and I live happy in the enjoyment of your friendship; flatter not your selfe (said he) with any such vain thoughts, for I find death to have even al­ready seazed me, but let me command you live, that since I must die I may rest in peace; since then (repli'd I) you think my life necessa­ry to the quiet and rest of your soul, I shall en­deavour to live, if it be but so long as till I fulfilled your injunctions, which be they what they will, I here protest by those indissoluble [Page 54] bonds of friendship which have been so often confirmed betwixt us inviolably to perform; here I stopped, expecting what he would en­joyn me, but he first desired me to take out of his pocket a bundle of Papers wrapt up in a scroule of parchment, in which sayes he you will find my last Will and Testament; I accor­ding to his desire took out the bundle and, ha­ving found it out, what is your further com­mand concerning this (said I) That Will (said he I confirme my last, therein thou wilt find that I have divided my whole estate between thee my dear friend, and my beloved Bess Bridges, but with this proviso, that if thou shalt find her in the least tainted, or to have falsified that faith wherewith she made her self mine, that five hundred pound per annum which I had resolved to estate her in, let me beg of thee likewise to accept, and in requital of it to obey these easie commands; First, That thou wilt restone this Ring to my beloved Besse, the last pledge she gave me of her faith, which if she have kept intire, will rejoyce her heart, and ease it somewhat of griefe for my death, if not, 'twill be a strong witnesse against her to condemn her as the most light, inconftant, and very woman, in the world; secondly, That if thou-shalt find that she hath either broke her faith, or forfeited her honour, thou wilt not fail to take from her my picture, which how unworthy soever, is too good to be enjoyed or breathed on by one unchast; and thirdly, that thou wouldest make what hast possible [Page 55] thou canst to the ship, least thou lose the op­portunity of this passage, and leave me to my fate, farewell; Farewell? (said I) O ye Hea­vens! and is Spencer then so unkind as to com­mand me from him? this command doth more afflict me then when he bid me live; for with­out his presence I am but dead in my own con­ceit, but to be forced from him when he is e­ven ready to render his soul to heaven, is worse then death! either (said I) command me not from you, or command me not to live: If (said Spencer) the peace of my mind were not concerned in your absence, I should be as un­willing to be deprived of you, as you seem willing to be deprived of you, as you seem willing to die for my sake; but since neither my dying desires, nor our former ties of friendship can work upon you to leave me, I must rest content, and as well as I can, pacifie my spirits: Nay, now (said I) you are unjust, if my earnest love made me speak somewhat disgustfull, what reason have you to blame me? I will go, but who shall then close up your dy­ing eyes? who shall see you interred? what friend shall weep a tear upon your funerall hearse? must it be added to the rest of my tor­ments, that I cannot perform the last duty of a friend to you? for that (said he) trouble not your selfe, and ad not your afflictions to the heap of my miseries, you are not the first that has lost a friend, but the first (repli'd I) that e­ver lost so faithfull a friend, farewell, for I cannot stay here and obey your commands, farewell; that word parted us, for since his [Page 56] injunctions were so absolute, I thought it would but ad to his griefe, and perhaps hasten his death to stay longer, so having with a heavy heart given the Surgion charge of him, and left him a sufficient number of crowns, I hasten­ed on ship-board, having no desire now to live, but to obey his commands; being arrived on ship-board and under saile, we might hear the Great Bell of the City toul, which was as it were a sad Omen of that newes I after heard, and which made me inquisitive into the cause of some Mariners, who having staid too late, pursu­ed the Fleet in a swift Fellucca, at length over­took us, who told me what my own fears pre­dicted, that it was for one Spencer a Gentleman, and well known in the Fleet, who was just at their leaving the town, dead of a mortal wound; all these circumstances confirmed it was my dear friend, nor could I refrain so much my passions, but that overwhelmed with grief, I fell down upon the Deck, and had not the great care of my friends and acquaintance a­gain revived me, I had been made incapable of ever performing the injunctions of my dead friend, yet what with their perswasions and the comfort I had of having some service to per­forme to his memory, I asswaged my grief, and began to bethink my selfe how I might careful­ly observe his commands, they were outward­ly easie, but whosoever considers how close women are in their actions, will judge it a hard task to prove them unchast, yet at length I bethought my self that Mr. Forcet the person [Page 57] who assisted us in our escape from Plimouth, might very possibly give me an account of the since carriage and deportment of Bess Bridges; he having expressed to me his intention of re­siding at Foy, where this Magnanimous Maid (for so when you have heard her gallant deport­ment, you will think her worthy to be called) was by her lover enjoyned to live; to him therefore at my arrival (which was after a very short and prosperous voyage) I addressed my selfe, and easily perswaded him to give me the following Relation.

The Continuation of the STORY OF THE Magnanimous Maid.

COuld I dear friend (said he) summon up all those rhetoricall Epithites, which have by the most famous and renowned wits been given to virtue or chastity, I might undertake before I entred into a story of her carriage and deme­nour since your absence, and the absence of your worthy friend Spencer, to give you a cha­racter of this unparaleld Maid, but since that is impossible for me, ile give you leave to judge by her actions how much she deserves applause a­bove the thought of Man or reach of eloquence; No sooner had she recovered from the swound which she fell into at parting from her beloved Spencer, but she began to repeat what he had left her in charge, and first said she virtue and chastity, did then my Spencer doubt or mistrust me, oh no, 'twas love, 'twas love, and care of me (said she correcting her selfe) that made him [Page 59] give me that counsell, else why should he be so auxious and carefull for my being, and surely would have been so for my wel-being, my living chast and virtuous, had it been in his power, to me then that remaines which when I forgoe, or make forfeite of my honour or faith to him plighted, let me not be thought unworthy of my Spencer, but to live upon the Earth, here she began again to lament her misfortune, which had made her so miserable as to be deprived of her Spencer, when she had but just been made sensible of his ardent love and affection to her, and had assuredly fell into a second swound, had not I endeavoured by all possible arguments to comfort her, and divert those thoughts, by putting her in mind of his charge, for her spee­dy removall to Foy, which she delayed no long­er then the succeeding day, when making even accounts with her Master, and taking care to pack up those goods which were left her by Master Spencer, (but especially taking care to preserve his picture, which she kissed ten thou­sand times, with as much affection as if it had not been the dull representation, but her reall living love,) she in very few dayes removed from Plymouth, and in as few more was setled at the Windmill in Foy, whither her same spread all over England, drew her such custome that she was the envy of all those of her Trade, I wonder (said Spinola interrupting his valiant Lord Generall) that Master Spencer being so much inamoured of her beauty and virtues, having an estate so great, and being a Gentleman [Page 60] of such quality, did not rather provide a pri­vate appartment, or habitation like a Gentle­woman, or at least a Person he thought worthy his affection, rather then expose her again to the publick temptation of the World: (Your Objection answered) Captain Goodlake is no more then what I expected, and what I my self had very often made to himselfe, but could ne­ver get any farther reason of that action from him, then that thereby he should make the greater tryall of her virtues: but in my judg­ment (replyed Spinola) the tryall was too ha­zardous of a Person whom he so intirely affect­ed; You say true, (said Goodlake) but there is no disputing the reasons of past actions, espe­cially such as spring from the private bosomes of particular Personages, but (continued he) to proceed in Forset's relation, amongst these many Guests (said he) there could not want some who would prove Suitors to such an ex­cellent face, especially when they perceived that it was likewise embellished with virtue, and that set forth by no despicable estate, which the stock left her by Master Spencer had in small time acquire, amongst the rest there was one Master Hopton, a Gentleman of a very good Fa­mily, and great revenue in that Country, who for a long time laboured in her love, nor was he wanting to endeavour to force her to an ac­ceptance of such presents as he would dayly send, but such was the noblenesse of her mind, that she would not accept of the price, where she could not make good the bargain expected, [Page 61] love, Nay so generous was she, that (contrary to the common humour of that Sex, who love not only to have many Suitors, but to lull them still on in hopes of their desires) she not per­mitting the poor Gentleman to languish in vain expectations of what he could never obtain, he had no sooner discovered his passion, but she plainly told him, that her love was not hers to give, being already disposed to one, with whom should she break her faith, she had just reason to suspect she should not only be abhorred by all Persons whatsoever, but especially by him who so earnestly solicited her to it, yet this answer did not at all satisfy my young Gallant, who with no lesse eagerness then before stil pursued his suite, till finding by her continuall repulses there was left no hopes of victory, he resolved upon travell, as the fittest cure for his lovesick mind, should I (said Forset) give you a parti­cular account of all her Suitors, I should make the relation tedious, and spend as much time in it, as there was spent in their severall actions, I shall therefore only particularize two more.

But as Captain Goodlake was going forward in this story came a Messenger in, whose coun­tenance betrayed the hast of what he had to de­liver, yet so much breath had he lost by his vi­olent running, mixt with feare, that a good while it was before the illustrious Spinola could make him deliver his message, which at length they understood to be caused by a suddain in­cursion of about five thousand Savoyards upon the Camp, for the Duke of Savoy incensed at [Page 62] the last defeat of his Forces, had with all pos­sible speed raised another Army, and command­ed them to march night and day, till they re­venged their rout, and regained the honour lost by their Countrymen, these expresse Orders joyned with the vigilancy of their Generall made them fly with such speed that they even like Caesar outwent the report of their coming, and (still in their way recruting themselves with such as either fled from the other Battell, or whom the charity of Spinola, at Captain Good­lake's request had released at the storm of the Castle) they were come within view of the Genovese Camp before they had (such was their security, and the negligence of the Scouts) any notice or advice of their coming, which suddain surprize had so much disordered them, that without speedy help they must necessarily fall into an inevitable ruine, this news extreamly stratled the two valiant Captaines, but not at all abated their wonted courage, nor lessened in them the care to assist their distressed Camp, wherefore Spinola drawing out a selected party of Foot out of the Garrison, and Goodlake the like of Horse, they seemed to fly to the assistance of their friends, spurred on not only by their own innate valour, but by the earnest desire they had still to maintain, and keep alive that honour, which by the last Campagna they had so happily given birth to; Scarce were they come within sight of their almost scattered Troops, but their Souldiers having advice that their Generals were posting to their reliefe, began [Page 63] to encourage their fellows, and gathering to­gether into severall close battalious, first put a stand, to the pursuing fury of the Savoyards, this unexpected sight made their Commanders spur on more eagerly to the reliefe of those Souldiers, who so valiantly maintained their grounds and their Countrys honour, whilst the Savoyards angry to see a stop put to their full hopes, and almost assurance of an absolute victory, pressed with more fury upon their E­nemies, whose present valour they accounted but like the blaze of a dying Taper before its extinction, and indeed so it had proved, (not­withstanding the great care and valour of Iusti­niano, who resolutely adventured his Person a­mongst the thickest and most daring of his ene­mies, thereby to double the courage of his al­most wearied Souldiers) had not Spinola and Goodlake come in with their opportune assist­ance, the first that arrived was Goodlake, who having wheeled about, fell into the Enemies Flank with such a brave resolution, that at the first charge he put them into disorder, but such was their courage that (notwithstanding his ad­vantage here, and that Spinola with his fresh supply of gallant infantry the Savoyards were forced to give some ground) spurred on with their confidence of victory that rather renew­ing then abating their fury, they continued the battell till the darknesse of the night parted both Armies, and forced them to an unvolun­tary retreat on both sides, the Genoveses being forced notwithstanding their gallant resistance, [Page 64] to yeild so much of the victory to their enemies as to give them leave to passe freely into the Territorie of the Duke of Mantua, and joyne with the Ferrarian Forces, which more grieved the generous Spinola, valiant Goodlake, and the noble Iustinino, then the wounds they had re­ceived in the battell, but finding it in vain to repine at their ill fortune, they thought it fitter to retire to the Castle to consult of Deeds then to rest there by helplesse words to bemoane their ill successe.

The Loves of Schiarra and Florelia.

KNow then noble friend (continued Spinola) that when I arrived to about the third Lu­stre, my Uncle Ambrogio Spinola, to whose care I was committed by my Father during his ab­sence in the Netherlands, thought me at an age fit to intrust me with the sight of other Countries, as looking upon travel as the en­livener of the soul, and stirrer up of gene­rous mindes to an emulation of other vertues, and because the glory and splendor of Flo­rence (by reason of the absolute Government of the Medici Dukes of Tuscany) seem'd to ex­ceed that of all other Italian Cities, he sent me thither, recommanding me to Signor Alonzo Schiarra, an ancient Nobleman of that City, and both a great friend of, and somewhat alied unto those of our Family; I was received by him with all possible expressions of Love and Affection, with protestations of having the same [Page 14] care of me that he would have of his own and onely Son Giorgio Schiarra, a youth of about twelve years of age, of a sweet and affable na­ture, comely carriage and behavior, and with all exceeding beautiful, with him I associated my self in learning those excercises of riding, fencing, and other qualities and studies which the Nobility of Italy do most delight in, and generally breed up their sons, to the better to enable them when they should arrive at riper years to serve their Country; such was the de­light that we took in each others company, and so did our friendship flourish in those our tender years, that it grew up as it were to an inviola­ble bond, to the great delight of the old Alonzo, who gloried to see how we strove more and more to endear our selves together, and yet would endeavour to exceed each other in duty and respect to him, so that he would often say, that if we had but both been his children, no Father could have boasted a happiness like his; thus we lived together for about three years, and upwards, never parting by our good wills neither night nor day, or if by any chance we were for some time forced to be asunder, that time was either spent in dull melancholly, or in pouring forth prayers for each others safety; but whilest we thus lived in all bliss and con­tent imaginable, adverse Fortune renewed an old Feud, which had long lain asleep be­tween the Families of the Schiarri and the Do­nati, a Family observed to be most guilty (though they had least cause) of pride of any [Page 15] one in Florence; the occasion of the raking up the embers of this long concealed fire, were so slight, that they are not worth relating, let it suffice that it soon grew into such a flame, as disturbed the whole City of Florence, and many murders were committed on both sides, Alme­righo Donati, son to Lorenzo Donati, one of the chief of that Family, was the first that felt the fury of this difference by the loss of his life, which was too soon revenged upon Giovanni Schiarra, a youth in whom all Nobleness flow'd, but of too tender years to be made a concern in this bloody difference, who being set upon by three of the opposite Family, though he bravely defended himself, being overpowred, was made a sacrifice to their revenge. This baseness ex­treamly heightned the difference, yet it made somewhat well for the Schiarri, who gained thereby the friendship of almost the whole City, for they generally condemned the Donati for committing so horrid and unworthy a mur­ther, upon the person of one so young and ten­der, that he scarce yet knew the handling of of­fensive Arms; in sum, scarce a day passed but either wounds or deaths given or taken; yet my Schiarra and I passed unaffronted, which pro­ceeded not from any want of malice in the Do­nati to him, for they particularly coveted his death as the son, and onely son of one of the chiefest of their enemy family; but because they knew that our friendship was such (and seldom or never did we walk asunder) that it was im­possible for them to engage him, and not endan­ger [Page 16] me, and very sensible they were that should I have miscarried by their swords, my Father would either by Embassie have procured, or by war have forced the Grand Duke to have execu­ted a severe vengeance on my murtherers; nor was the old Alonzo Schiarra insensible that it was out of fear of me, for those reasons before recited, that his son passed unassaulted, and therefore he took special care that he walked not out single, nor indeed in any company but mine; but he might have spared those thoughts, for such was the sweet harmony we found in one anothers society, that all others, except our selves, seemed a jarring discord; and yet it happened one morning that I being somewhat indisposed, and keeping my bed, he accompanied me in my chamber, till about ten a clock, when I falling into an easie slumber, led by I know not what evil Angel, he adventured to go abroad into the Piazza; scarce was he gone but I awa­ked, and calling for him, a servant told me that he was newly gone forth, I started to hear him say so, for me thought his very words were like the passing Bell which rang out any friends fu­neral, I leapt out of bed, and put on my cloaths with a propicious speed, made all haste towards the Piazza, where I found that true which my fears had boded to me, for just at the corner of the street that entred upon the place, I espied him valiantly defending himself against two of the Donati, I flew with all possible speed to the place, but just as I arrived to his assistance, I had occasion given me to think that all help of mine [Page 17] was too late, for brandishing my sword at one of of them, I had no sooner said, And will the Do­nati never forget to be treacherous? but he fell at my feet, fainting rather through effusion of blood, then for any dangerous or mortal wound received; but seeing him fall I stopped my speech, and desperately ran at one of his Assai­lants, whom I made measure out his length on the earth, to accompany my dear friend, whilest the other trusted to his feet for his safety, not need he have ran overswiftly, for my care of Schiarra would not permit me to pursue him: but coming to my friend, who lay stretched out upon the ground, I perceived in him very few symptomes of life yet I thought it more conve­nient to cherish some hopes that he might re­cover, and by them encourage my self to have his wounds quickly recommended to the Sur­gions care, then delay time by an unprofitable grief, the onely way utterly to loose him; and therefore having got the assistance of some Ci­tizens thereabouts, we carried him home in a chair, the Surgions whom I had sent for, over­taking us, who after they had laid him with the greatest ease they could upon the bed, began to use those arts they thought most fit to return him to life, which in half an hours time they effected, and in as much more having dressed his wounds, assured me, that though they were very many, there was not one of them mortal, or dangerous, but that his fainting was onely for loss of blood, which out of so many Orifices must needs finde passage in abundance, that if [Page 18] they could now (which they would use all their Arts to do) keep him from falling into a feaver, there could not be the least doubt of his recove­ry, and that in very few days. I had no sooner re­ceived this comfortable news, but I ran with all possible speed to communicate it to the good old Alonzo, who overcome with excess of grief, had retired himself into his closet, and would by no perswasions either be drawn thence, or restrain­ed from tearing his gray hairs and reverent beard, and miserably afflicting himself; being come to the door. I knocked at it, and withall told him, that I had brought him news that would rejoyce him; And am I then so misera­ble, said he, as to hear Spinola tell me now of rejoycing? Open the door Sir, said I, and if I do not perform what I have promised, blot me out of the list of your friends; herewith he opened the door, and looking stedfastly upon me, what, says he, my dear Spinola, hast thou now to tell me that can make me rejoyce? now that I have lost my son, is it that thou wilt be another Giorgio to me? I know thou wilt, and I accept it, but alas! he was my own son, my own flesh and blood, give me leave then to la­ment him; and herewith he began again to tear his hair and beard, but I stopped his fury, by tel­ling him, Alas Sir! why should you thus cruciate your self for a supposed loss? your Son liveth, and may, I hope, yet live to be as aged as you are now: Fie, fie Spinola, said he, think you to make believe these are any other then mocke­ries? I could never have believed you so cruel, [Page 19] did I not see him dead? 'Tis true, replied I, he was both to yours and my appearance dead, but it was onely loss of blood, which was the cause of his fainting, for now his spirits being revived, the Surgions assure me, he will in very few days be easily recovered, none of his wounds being either dangerous, or mortal: If this be true, replied he, how am I blest, and blessed be thou that bring'st me joyful news indeed; and there­upon going to take me about the neck to em­brace me, joy had so overpowred his soul, that his spirits failing, he fell into a swound, but soon recovered, when yet he would not believe what I had related to him, till his eyes had confirmed it: to be brief, three weeks time rendred Schiarra by the great care and industry of the Surgions, perfectly whole, during which time I never stir­red from him, nor indeed durst I stir abroad, the whole Family of the Donati having solemnly vowed my death, though they all lost their lives, for the rescue I gave Schiarra, and for the wounding their Kinsman, for slain he was not, and now my friend was recovered, we began to consult our own safeties, for we were both equally concerned; the opinion of old Alonze was, that I should return to Geno [...]a, where I might presume my self secure, and that to my care he would commit his son, whom he did not doubt I would preserve as my self, till the storms in Florence were blown over: I returned him a hearty thanks for the honor he did me in making such a motion, assuring my self that it would be seconded by my dear Schiarra, whose [Page 20] friendship and mine had taken so deep root, that I was very confident nothing but death, or inevitable necessity could separate us; so all parties being agreed, we next advised how to take our journey with all possible privacy, which to effect all things succeeded to our wish; so we departed from Florence, taking our leaves of the good old Alonzo, who with many tears offer­ed up oraisons for our safety: In four days time we arrived at Genoua, where I used my utmost endeavors to entertain Schiarra, according to best rules of friendship, recommending him to those of my relations, whom I knew the greatest honorers of worth and ve [...]ue, but he would of­ten tell me that my company was the onely so­lace of his soul, which I took care he should not want, for I protest really that I believe in all the time which we spent in Genoua, which was near a year, we never were three hours toge­ther absent from one another; our sports were alike, our studies alike, and as yet we had not been wounded with Loves which might separate and estrange our affections. About a twelve­moneth, as I said, being past in the pleasures of Genoua and the Riviera, I received Letters from my Father, commanding me to attend him at the Leaguer of Ostend, that I might there to the Theory which I had learn'd, add some know­ledge of the practical part of War; this message extremly perplexed me, for I was commanded to attend the messenger in his return, which was within six days, and doing so, I was fearful least in that we should not procure license [Page 21] from old Alonzo to permit my Schiarra to ac­company me, and though I knew it vvould be as great a trouble to him to part from me, as for me to be deprived of him, yet I was confident without his Fathers license▪ he would not adven­ture to go, much less not stay, should he com­mand it: but hoping I might procure so much fa­vor from Alonzo as to permit him to accompany me in so honorable an enterprize, thinking every hours delay a years; I communicated my Let­ters to Schiarra, withall acquainting him with my resolution to write to his Father, to beg the leave of his further society; for, said I, my dear Schiarra, I can as well die as part from thee; He professed the same to me, and added, that himself too vvould vvrite, and that in such win­ning terms, that he should not have the power to deny him; I rejoyced to hear him say so, but, said I, what we do, must be done with all expedition, for within six days must the messen­ger return with an answer of those letters he brought from my Father to the Senate, vvith vvhom I am commanded to go: this made him sensible of the necessity of expedition, so we im­mediately posted away a messenger on purpose, with order to make all the haste imaginable, whilest vve in the mean time provided all things for our journey: but alas! the sixth day was now come, and our post not yet returned, nor any news of him, the messenger whom I vvas to at­tend, vvould by no means be perswaded to stay one minute; in this Agony vve knew not vvhat to do, or vvhat course to take, at length vve re­solved [Page 22] that Schiarra should accompany me to the foot of the Alps, and if our Post overtook him not before that time, or there, without a concession to go further, that then we should part, and patiently endure our hard fortune; so we set forth, but a tedious and melancholy journey it was, for we in vain every minute expected what yet came not, three dayes we journeyed thus, till we came to the Mountains foot, the place appointed for our taking congé of each other, and so fearful were we that that adverse lot would certainly befal us, that we thought the next morning not sufficient to bid one another adieu, but began as soon as we came in to our Inne at night to bethink how we should wean our selves one from another; The Illustrissimo, whom we attended, perceiving our mutual affection, was highly pleased with it, and pitied so much our fear'd misfortune, that he, who at Genoua refused to stay a minute, now proffered to wait a whole day there, in hopes our Post might in that time arrive, for we had left order at Genoua he should follow us thither, we equally strove who should first return thanks for this great favor of this Illustrissimo's, who kindly accepted it, but by out better fortune we needed not his courtesie, for that night going to bed with somewhat more alacrity then formerly, our joys, hopes and fears, kept us still awake, pouring forth Oraisons for the Posts arrival be­fore the favorable time of stay granted by the Illustrissimo were expired, when it happened that whilest we thus busying our selves, we might [Page 23] at a great distance hear a horn, which seemed to draw nearer to us; Schiarra no longer able to contain his joy, nor doubting but that it was a Post sent from Genoua with Letters from his Fa­ther, immediately lept out of bed, and in all haste putting on his night-Gown, ran down staires to meet the unexpected messenger of his and my bliss, I followed him with all expediti­on possibly, and coming down into the road, found him just examining of the Post, who gave him an account far beneath his expectations, to wit, that he was come from Modena, and was bound in all haste to Turine: Schiarra was al­most angry with himself that he had flattered himself into such mountanious imaginations, which in the end brought forth somewhat less then a Mouse, nothing; and there-withall be­gan to cry out, [...] Schiarra! Nay rather unhappy Spinola [...] I, when at those words a fellow, who seeing us rise at that un­seasonable time of night, and to come out of the Inne into the street, out of meer curiosity had followed, hearing us name our selves, accosted me, and tells me, Truly Sir, if you had now by chance named your self I should have despaired of finding you out, for I had enquired for you of almost every person in the Inne. And vvhat is thy business, said I, that thou wert so inquisitive for me? not dreaming that he had brought such joyful news. Business, said he, I have brought you, Sir, a return of your Letters from Florence. From Florence, said Schiarra, delay not to deli­ver them Letters, that I may know whether I [Page 24] am made miserable or happy, for on them de­pends my doom; and there-vvithall snatch­ing them out of the fellows hands, he ran in, and calling for a candle, breaking off the cover, which was wholly to me, there vvas inclosed one to me, & another to himself, mine he flings me, and with fury breaking up his own, one might e're he had read one half of the Letter, perceive by the serenity of his countenance, that it brought vvhat his heart desired; I adventured likewise to break up mine, where I found our blessings confirmed to the height of our content, and therefore running to him, and embracing him, now, said he, need we not to be beholding to the Illustrissimo's curtesie, since we are made free to wait on his commands when he pleases: But how strangely fortunate vvere vve, said I, in the approach of the [...] ost, without whom vve had not found [...] own messenger, vvhose good news shall never by me pass unrewarded: Nor by me, said Schiarra, vvho must, and do hold my self as much obliged by it, and con­cerned in it, as your self, for now I enjoy you in vvhom are all my joys compleated, and therefore, dear friend, let him accompany us forward in our journey; I readily assented, and therewith we thought fit to take some two hours repose for it; now drew near morning, that vve might be the better able to travel the next day, vvhen vve set forth vvith more joy and content then vve had done at any time formerly. To recount unto you the particulars of our journey, vvill be too prolix, it vvill suffice to say, that [Page 25] it vvas prosperous, and that in six vveeks time from our departure from Genoua, we arrived in the Camp before Ostend; here I endeavored to have my Father receive my dear Schiarra, vvith the same affection that old Alonzo had shewed me, nor vvas he at all backward in performing my desires, striving rather to exceed my self in kindness: having passed the first complements of entertainment, we vvent to view the Leaguer, vvhich had now lain two years before that Town, or rather before some mounts of earth, for upon vvhat vvas at first the Town, our Camp vvas Pitch, and y [...]t a Town held out against us; but I am now dear friend, come to give a relation of those things in vvhich your self, as vvell as I, have been an actor, I shall therefore omit all passages of that War, as to you tedious and superfluous, and onely tell you, that Schi­arra did there things vvorthy himself and his family, and deserving my Fathers greatest friendship and affection, vvho rejoyced that I had made choice of so Noble and Gallant an Associate; we staid together in the Netherlands for some years, after the surrendring of that once thought invincible Town of Ostend, improving our selves as well as vve could in the practice and policy of Arms, in both vvhich, blushing I speak it, Schiarra so far exceeded me, that were it not to do my friend right, I should shame to acknowledge it. Your modesty 'tis Sir, said Captain Goodlake interrupting him, that thus extenuates your own deserts, and your genero­sity that amplifies the merits of your friends, [Page 26] vvhich how great soever, give me leave to think that they could not exceed yours. Platter me not so, said Spinola, for of all men breathing you have least occasion; But, continued he, my Father at length thought fit I should return home, as being arrived at an age fit for Loves, and the care he had to see children spring from the loyns of me his onely son, made him re­commend unto me several Ladies of the Ge­nouese Nobility, out of vvhom he enjoyned me to take a vvife, yet vvith all telling me, that he would not limit my fancy absolutely to those, but leave me to choose vvhere I pleased always, provided that I stained not my birth or honor by too inferior a match: so Schiarra he recom­mended my sister a Lady (as your eyes have been vvitness) of no despisable beauty, assuring him that he should be happy if their affections could meet vvith these instructions; vve took our leaves, and arriving at Genoua, dedicated our selves to the Courtship of Ladies; for my own part, I confess, I found in my self little propensity to marry, yet I observed that Schi­arra seemed to bear a kinde of affection to my sister, yet not so violent a one as I found after­vvards she bore him, for his was not so fixt as appeared afterwards, but that it could stray a­vvay to the Love of another Lady, as it did by the strangest accident that you have ever heard, to one, I must confess, of an excelling beauty, and no way inferior to my sister Isabella in Nobility of birth, or riches; it chanced one day that walking on the banks of the Riviera, [Page 27] where the Nobility of the City use to solace themselves in the cool of the evening in their Coaches, that Schiarra mistaking a Coach, which he thought to belong to one of our peculiar friends, sifted up the curtain, but seeing his mi­stake, he craved pardon for his unwilling of­fence, which he thought had been granted, but such was the rage of the Gentleman, who ac­companied onely with one Lady was in it, that though at present the expressed not his disgust, yet he awaited his revenge, which my forced departure into the City about some urgent occa­sions, gave him the better opportunity of effect­ing, for having traced careless Schiarra into a private walk, he very rudely conjures him to draw; Schiarra was so amazed that he could not at first finde any answer, but that he belie­ved the Gentleman was mistaken: But the other with a kinde of Spanish Bravado, answers, that he should finde his eyes had found out their true object, and that if he refused to draw, he would send his coward soul to hell. Sir, replied Schiarra, you seem to be noble, and by your garb should be at least a Gentleman, but you must give me leave to admire your judgement, that so rashly seeks a quarrel with me, who I am confident never injured you, nor to my knowledge ever saw you before, but let me but know the reasons induce you to it, and you shall quickly finde I am no coward; all the reason in the world could produce no other an­swer from the furious Gentleman, then that he had offered him an affront, which he was resol­ved [Page 28] to revenge, and therefore advised him to draw, otherwise his sword should force him; well answered Schiarra, since I must of necessi­ty make trial of your valor, I shall endeavor to make you repent it; and therewithall draw­ing his sword, they made two passes in v [...]n one against the other, [...] it was Schi­arra's fortune, to give him a wound in the side, at which issued such [...] of blood, that he immediately fell; now Sir, said Schiarra, you will be pleased to give me a reason why you were so desperately and rashly valiant? Scarce had he ended those words, when he might hear the cries of some Lady, piercing his ears, and looking about, might perceive one running to­wards him, and crying, Oh! for pity sake save my dear Lorenzo's life, or if nothing but blood can satisfie your fury, sacrifice mine in stead of his to your victorious arm; such was the amaze­ment of the gallant Schiarra at the sight of her, and so much were his sences captivated at the excelling beauties of her face, and harmony of her voice, that not able to return an answer, he stood leaning on his sword, as if her looks had the power of Medusas to turn men into Statues. The Virgin still anxious for her friend, and fearing lest if her request were not granted soon, it would be for ever too late, falling down on her knees, and embracing him, began in a Language which would have charm'd Adders to sue for the saving of his life; Do not noble Sir, said she, let the tears and prayers of an unfor­tunate Virgin, who never sued before, be now [Page 29] spent in vain, but redeem the dear forfeit of my brothers life, or if you yet be so cruel that nothing but gore can cancel your anger, here, here sheath your bright weapon between these white breasts, this blood may sooner quench your ireful heat! let me die, so he may live! with these words the tears so fast trukled down upon her Rosie Cheeks, that it would have made the fiercest Scythian relent and turn pity­full; but Schiarra still stood mute, as if her sweet voice had rather been thunder, and struck him dumb, till at length recollecting himself, he endeavored to raise her from the ground; but she refused to rise, crying, Oh! no Sir, here will I for ever lie prostrate, till you confirm my boon, and grant Lorenzo life; to which Schiarra seeing she would not rise, kneeling likewise down; replied, Goddess, for so your celestial beauty, and Angelical voice confirm, yea, par­don my inconsiderate rudeness (the childe of my astonishment to look upon so divine a pre­sence) that hath permitted you to kneel and beg that which you may command. I am no Goddess, replied she, but a hapless Virgin, who here lie prostrate for my brothers life. How rea­dily Madam, answered Schiarra, would I grant your boon, but that I fear by it I shall be too soon exiled from the blessing your presence so fully affords me. Will you not then let him live? replied she: Yes Madam, said he, he must live since you command it, and happy, thrice happy 'tis being vanquished to have so fair a saver; would Heaven had made his sword [Page 30] my Conqueror, so I might then have deserved so divine a pity; Rise Madam, rise, and receive your brother, but let me now beg one boon of you to know vvhat made him my enemy? It was, said she, your lifting up the curtains of our Coach, which though you excused, he in heat of blood pursued you to seek revenge. 'Twas a mistake Madam answered Schiarra, that made me so discourteous, which I will yet redeem with my life when ever you shall please to com­mand it. 'Tis too great a forfeit Sir, answered she, for so slight an offence, let me now onely beg your help to lift my brother into the Coach, which Schiarra readily assented to, though with an inward unwillingness, because he should thereby be deprived of the sight of his Saint: Scarce had he done it, and the Coach departed, but I arrived at the place where this accident had happened, and found Schiarra in the same posture which I represented him in at the first sight of the Lady, having on his drawn sword, and fixing his eyes upon the ground, with a countenance sufficiently demonstrating some strange and unusual melancholy had possest him, I wondred to see him stand in that maner, and fearing lest my absence might have endangered him I ran to him, and pulling him by the arm, demanded if he had been assaulted by thieves? He was no less startled at his surprize, then I was to se [...] him in these dumps, and had not his eye been quicker then his hand, he had assuredly sheathed his sword in my bosome, but seeing it was I who had disturbed his serious thoughts: [Page 31] Yes my dear Spinala, said he, I have met with one who hath robb'd me of one of my choisest Jewels, I am undone, for ever lost. Fie, said I, this is passion, fancy not to your self a misery when none attends you, what is it thou hast lost? Lost, replied he, I have lost my self, but what is more I have lost you: Me, said I, Hell it self is not capable of robbing me of so high priz'd a friendship, dear friend dally not thus with me. Alas! Alas! said he, Heaven knows I da [...]ly not, and that you may know I am serious too, here take my sword, and sacrifice me to your just revenge. I must be sensible of an injury first, said I, for I am confident none but your self can accuse you. True, said he, none but my self and this treacherous heart of mine can be witness against me, I have forfeited all those Obligations of friendship, in which you have bound me, these traitorous eyes of mine have ruined me. Prethee how, said I, undeceive thy self, this cannot be other then a delusion. Would to Heaven, said he, it were so, but let me tell you plainly, and then I am confident you will your self, without my intreaty, be ready to take my sword and make me a just victime to the wrong I have done you. Alas! said I, my dear Schiarra, what can it be that can make thee thus to fancy thou hast wronged me? thy soul can never contract a guilt so great but I shall be as ready to pardon it as you have been slow in delivering it. Talk not of pardon, said he, for in confidence that you will revenge it with my blood, I will impart it. 'Tis this assume 'tis this, [Page 32] all those shows of Love which I have made to your virtuous Sister are vanished into Air, that bond which should have bound fast our friend­ships to eternity, is broken, utterly broken, for I now pay my devotions to another Saint. He could not have invented a greater affliction to me then these words were, I started and stood as amazed as I found him at first. I considered the passionate affection which my Sister but few days before expressed to me she bore him, and above that the great dishonor would be done to our Family should she be thus slighted, but above all how ill my Father would comport such an affront to have his daughter refused, because proffered by him, that in a rage snatching his offered sword from his willing hand; Do but, said I, again confirm this disloyalty, and you shall not need to beg me your Executioner. By the hopes I have, answered he, that you will take a just revenge upon me, all that I have told you is true, my heart is stollen by another. And canst thou perfidious man, said I, then leave my sister languishing, whom thou hast betrayed into so ardent an affection of thee, here take thy sword and defend thy self. I will receive it, said he, not to make resistance, but in assurance that it will provoke you to make me fall by yours, strike then, and let out this treacherous blood. I could willingly, I confess, have made him an oblation to my poor Sisters Love, and the honor of our Family, but the sacred name of friend so often vow'd between us, begat a palsie in my blood, and withheld my arm, so [Page 33] turning from him: no false man, said I, I'le not become thy butcher, Heaven shall work thy ruine, for be assured, who ever thou now makest thy Spouse, will proove a faithless Strumpet; At these words I was going away, but he called after me, crying, thou liest, return, I'le now fight not in my own defence, but hers whom I adore, for know she whom I now love is one whom thou oughtst not mention unless with re­verence on thy knees, one whose heavenly looks would tempt a Hermit, who had spent his whole life in contemplation, nay, for whom Angels would desert their bliss, and count it a greater happiness then Heaven to enjoy her; re­turn, for wert thou arm'd with thunder, this sword should reach thee. These words gave me assurance that he was irrevocably lost, I began to consider that more sisters I had, more friends so worthy were not to be found, and therefore returning to him, come Sir, said I, sheath your sword, and know I pity you, and if my service can assist you in gaining your new love, com­mand it. Alas! my dear Spinola, said he, this is worse then killing me, to tantalize me thus, for I know thou canst not so much wrong thy self and sister. I do think, replied I, you have ne­ver found me faithless, by all the Gods, by all our vow'd friendship, not all my sisters wrongs, shall make me prove disloyal to you, let me then know who is now thy Mistris, that I may assist thee in obtaining her. Am I then, said he, yet so happy in my misery? Talk not, said I, far­ther of misery, for thou shalt be fully happy, if [Page 34] all my skill and power can effect it, let me first know your Saint. Alas! said he, that's my mi­sery that I know her not, yet 'tis she that was in the Coach we this day overtook: 'tis then, said he, the fair Florelia, daughter to the Marquesse of Senazzaro, so fam'd for beauty over all the Genouese Territories. Be comforted dear friend, said I, for my acquaintance with Gilberto, Ste­ward to Sanazzaro, shall easily procure your admittance, come and you shall easily perceive how zealous I will be in thy service. Heaven, answered he, be propitious to our designs, and so coming along we soon reached the City, and at the gates parted, he taking the way to our Pa­lace, and I to that of the Marquesse Sanaz­zaro, where meeting with Gilberto, I disclosed unto him Schiarra's Loves to Florelia, and de­sired that he would invent some way to gain him admittance to her; he at first was some­what backward to attempt any thing, alledging that therein he should betray his Master, and likewise abuse my friend, by feeding those hopes which would prove but vain, she being already promised by her Father to one with whom he will not break, and therefore, says he, noble Spinola, urge me no farther in it. I knew 'twas gold that must make him relent, and therefore giving him a pretty quantity, and promising more, he began to mollifie, and to tell me, that the person whom her father had allotted for her husband was by her violently hated, yet such was the perverseness of the old Marquesse, that he had resolutely determined [Page 35] to force her to marry him, and that very spee­dily, so that there was now no way left for to remove him, but the death of him he had chosen for her Spouse. Do but name him, said I, and assure your self he is seal'd for dead. 'Tis, said he, Petruchio▪ eldest son and heir to the Count de Ligue; in the mean time do you and your friend come to morrow night with some Mu­sick to her chamber window, and doubt not of gentle audience.

I returned to my friend with joy, to have effected thus much, who embracing me, and calling me the Author of his happiness, told me, that he had likewise discovered somewhat which would not displease me. What is it, said I, Prythee? why, says he, no sooner was I come home, but Catharina your sister Isabellas ser­vant calling me aside, began to tell me very seriously, that she was sorry she must be messen­ger of such ill news, desiring me to arm my self with a noble patience, and not let passion grow predommant at the hearing it. I began to muse what it should be, and feared nothing more then that thy sister Isabella having discovered my falshood, had chalked out some path for re­venge; but those fears were soon dissipated, by the maids telling me, almost with tears in her eyes, that Isabella had forgot all her loves to me, and now doted on the Lorenso son to the Marquis of Sannazzaro, whom she had onely espied out of a window carrying in a chair to be dressed of a wound he then seemed to have newly received. I easily (said Schiarra) guessed [Page 36] it to be the person whose life my Florelia had begged, and so was I rejoyced at the news that I could hardly feign to her to be troubled, which I thought fit to do. You did well, said I, to do so, but you must now think of going to enter­tain your Mistris, which he accorded to, and we having soon provided our selves of Musicians, addressed our selves through the Postern, which Gilberto had of purpose left open for us, to San­nazzaro's garden, and placing our selves under Florelias window, after the Musick had a while played, Schiarra caused his boy to sing this song, which he had of purpose composed:

Scarce had he ended the first Stanza when we might hear the window open, and Florelia and her maid discoursing with a seeming wonder who it should be that at that time of the night had bestowed that Musick on them; the maid guessing it to be Petruchio, whose impertinency she discoursed on, and aptly discovered to us the hate his Mistris bore him: but the Song be­ing ended Florelia her self demanded who it was, that when night had with its sable mantel beclouded the world, durst there adventure with so much danger on her secrets? It is one, answe­red Schiarra, whom you (when for your sake he saved your brothers life) promised so much to honor as to keep in memory. If you be he, an­swered Florelia, I confess I am obliged to honor your Nobleness, but you must excuse me if at these untimely hours I dare admit no confe­rence, your Musick Sir, I thank you for, and so much do I love you that I would not endanger you, for if you should be seen here, your life would run a hazard, therefore farewel: here she was about to shut the window, when Schi­arra with a passionate voice cried out, for Loves sake, stay Madam, for were there here dangers as thick as there are Stars above us, nay were [Page 38] even death it self, here I would scorn his fury, and believe that whilest you stay, I am by your presence made immortal. I am content, re­plied she, lest you should condemn me of dis­courtesie to stay, but you must then be brief in telling me what you desire. Oh! Madam, re­plied Schiarra, confine me not to such hard terms, and yet why should I crave greater li­cense since all I wist for is summed in these few words, Madam, I love you, and desire your love. And is that all, said she, then Sir farewel, and herewith she made a second proffer to shut the window, and had done it, had not Schiarra withheld her by crying; Oh Madam! let me conjure by the blood, which yet for your sake flows in your brothers veins, to stay and hear me further. That charmes me for some time, re­plied she, but consider, I pray, both your dan­ger and mine, and therefore conclude with speed. Know then Lady, continued Schiarra, that my zeal could tell you, that you are above expression fair, that your eyes illuminate the night, and Eclipse the Stars in their greatest brightness, that you are the Master-piece of Nature, in which she strove to wed Art and Beauty together, but these terms though they want nothing of truth, yet are onely fit to be used by those whose loves lie in their lips, my deeds shall speak the truth and constancy of my love. Should all the actions in the world con­firm your love, answered Florelia, I must still return you the same answer that I dare not, cannot love you, for my more honest thoughts [Page 39] permit me not to deride your passions with fru­strate species, or flatter them with vain hopes, but as you have been brief in your desires, I will be the same in my denial; in confidence of the truth of which, I desire you to rest satis­fied, and assure your self, that whilest you persist farther in it, you do but plough the seas, and write in the sand. You are noble, answered Schiarra, thus to rid me of my torment, and not permit me languishing to burn in those hot tortures, behold this blade, which once for your sake did refrain from shedding your dear bro­thers blood, shall now make me a victime to your cruelty, and here-withall he was about to have sheathed his sword in his bosom, and had done it, had not I who stood hard by perceiving his intent, ran to him and stayed his arm, which Florelia perceiving, Fie, said she, what a faint­hearted soldier are you thus to despair at the first repulse, grant that I could affect you, would you not account me light should I at the first assault be won, before I had made any experi­ence of your faith and loyalty; nor can I with­out my fathers consent adventure to love any, get that, and you may perchance finde heart­room in my breast. Me thinks those words, re­plied Schiarra, return me to a new life, me thinks the enamoured Stars hangs o're thy lips, expecting a blessing from them. Be not too hasty Sir, said Florelia, for it is yet impossible I should love you, being already contracted. And yet 'tis in your power, replied he, to love your servant. Well, said she, I can hold out no longer, and if [Page 40] what Anatomists write, that in the Center of our hearts, there is a little concave where resides our best affections, be true, then is your Augury a divine truth, for all the love lies therein en­gaged to the worth of another, not to the jea­loufie of him to whom my father hath contract­ed me. May I be so happy Madam, said Schi­arra, as to receive from your sweet lips the name of the person whom you are pleased to make so blessed? Know then Sir, said she, for I can no longer conceal it, but let the night yet shroud me with a blacker cloud, to hide from you the blushes of my face, that from the first time I saw you, and observed the nobleness of your temper, in saving my brothers life, which he had rashly forfeited to your just revenge, I be­come a true devotarist to those vertues which to me seem'd heavenly: Here she made a small stop, expecting that Schiarra should return some answer, but into such an extasie had his joy trans­ported him, that he was not so sensible of his happiness as to return a due thanks for it, when his silence gave Florelia occasion to continue thus; I fear Sir, my to soon yielding to your de­sires has abated, or utterly extinguished that love you but now zealously protested to bear me, but if it have, I can but blame my own cre­dulity; farther she would have proceeded, when Schiarra recollecting himself, interrupted her by crying out; Oh! Madam, do not believe my silence to proceed from any other cause then the exuberance of my joy, your words have ravisht me beyond my hopes, and made my [Page 41] heart too narrow to contain that bliss, which now you have made it entertainer of. Then Sir, re­plied she, excuse my jealous mistake, and if you please walk round about the house, my maid shall attend to give you entrance. I will flie to such happiness Madam, said he, and therewith­all we were just going, according to her com­mand, when betrayed by that perfidious villain Gilberto, we were encountred by Petruchio, the contracted Lover of Florelia, I was the formost, and therefore the first that met him, murmu­ring to himself in such terms as I easily guessed, that he had overheard all their discourse, yet had I carelesly passed by him, had he not bid me stand, and withall told me, that he had an arm Heaven it self would not let falter in revenge of such impious injuries; what art thou, said I, that after thou hast made a forfeit of thy life by over-hearing our secrets, darest thus rashly tempt thy death, be gone, be gone, and bless that fate that spare thee. Be gone, said he, were you encompassed with whole Legions, this single sword would dare to encounter them, and force a way to my revenge. Your very valiant, re­plied I, or else some strange and unknown de­sperate frenzy has seiz'd you, retire Sir, or tell what 'tis hath prompted you to this madness. You shall finde 'tis not madness but justice, said he, which of you two is it that dates attempt to court my Florelia, mine I call her, since both her self and father have confirm'd her so. Dare Sir, replied Schiarra, 'tis I dare dot, and will, what darest thou do to oppose it? I dare [Page 42] Sir revenge it, said he, but first I'le tell that wrong you do both heaven and me, in striving to deprive me of my betrothed Spouse, she is mine, nor can she while I live be any others. This sword shall clear my passage to her, re­plied Schiarra, and since you must have a Mi­stris, I'le send you to choose one amongst the Infernal deities. Dear friend, said he, turning to me, put up your sword, this glorious quarrel doth concern none but my self; come Sir draw, (again to Petruchio) and let our weapons decide whose she must be. Stay Sir a little, said Pe­truchio, you seem a person well qualified, and let me with your badness of your cause chill that blood which flows so violently in your veins, consider that with your blood you strive to ra­vish her from me, who both by her self and fa­ther hath been confirmed mine, before whole quires of Saints and blessed Angels; let not your lust then blinde you to run head-long to a sin so horrid and abominable. Oh! Sir, consider, and hazard not your souls salvation on a quarrel so unjust, should it be my fate, as in justice it must be, to kill thee, consider what a masse of endless woe (hast thou no other sins to charge thy conscience with) thou pluckst upon thy head, sure this must cause an earthquake in thy blood. I am no School-boy, replied Schiarra, to be thus Catechized, words are to weak to force me from the love of the Beautous Florelia, if you will enjoy her you must fight for her, which with what reason you can do, when you know that after your sword has gained her from me, [Page 43] you must likewise force that will which cannot love you; come Sir prepare your self, or resolve Lamb-like to die her sacrifice. Since you are so resolute, replied Petruchio, this sword shall quickly finde your heart, and therewith draw­ing made a sudden thrust at Schiarra, who as nimbly avoided it, and with the point of his weapon found a smooth way to his enemies heart, who without speaking a word fell down and died, and Schiarra glad that it was done with so little noise, and I proceeded to finde our entrance into the house, at the back door of which we found Florelias maid attending, who joyfully received Schiarra, and both desired me to walk to my Palace, the maid assuring me that my friend need fear no danger; I left them, but my soul boding some further evil, I could not depart, but resolved to watch my Schiarra's coming out till the morning, but before that approached, I might hear a bustle in the house, and espie one fetching a dangerous leap out of a window, which I supposed to be Florelias; I ran towards the place with all speed possible, where I found Schiarra set upon disarmed, and almost naked as he was, by a villain, whose per­son the darkness of the night hindred me from discovering, but obstructed me not from taking a just revenge of depriving him of life, and re­scuing my friend, who all breathless as he was, desired me to assist him to make the quickest escape we could towards our Palace; I second­ed his desires, and wondring at what should be the occasion of this Tragical event, should scarce [Page 44] have contained my desires of knowing it, till we came home, had not my fear of being too close pursued and surprized, witheld me, but being come home, I was earnest with Schiarra to know the maner and cause of his fright, but all he could tell me was, that when he was close clas­ped in the embraces of the beautous Florelia, her father, by whom informed of his being there he knew not, he came into the chamber, and had there sacrificed his life to his rage and fury, had not the window by chance been open, out of which he leaped, and had there again been slaughtered, had not I come into his rescue. I was amazed at what he told me, and began now to imagine that Gilberto had betrayed us, and was fearful lest in the morning we should be pursued for Petruchio's, and the others death; but those doubts were soon over by the general report of the accident spread about the City, that old Sanazzaro, finding his daughters incon­tinency, had in rage murdered her, that Petru­chio her betrothed Spouse was found dead in the garden, and the Marquesses Steward Gilberto slain under Florelias window, that there was no means left to finde out the causers of this Tra­gedy, but by some cloths and a sword which was left in the chamber, and supposed to be his who had robb'd Florelia of her honor; these reports confirmed unto us Gilberto's treachery, yet we were glad he could now no farther betray us, but above measure was Schiarra afflicted for Flo­relias murder, whom I endeavoured to comfort as well as I could, and further advised to depart [Page 45] with all speed, for though it should not be found out that those clothes were his, yet should any of Sannazzaro's kindred but entertain the least suspition of him; they would watch some oppor­tunity to take away his life; he liked my advice, and his quarrel between the Dukes of the Ferrara and Mantua being then breaking forth, upon my assurance that our State would assist the Mantouse, and that my self would come thi­ther in person, he choose to go to Mantua, and attend my coming, during which time how he joyned himself with the Dukes forces, and how unfortunately he fell, you have too lately heard.

Captain Goodlake was extreamly affected with this Tragick-History of young Schiarra, which so delighted him, that though the night was well past, he could have wish'd it had continued till morning, but being ended, these two gene­rous friends addressed themselves to their sleep, but their troubled thoughts not permitting them to take any quiet rest, as it were by one consent, Spiuola desired, and Goodlake proffered a conti­nuance of the History of the vertuous English Maid, which he pursued as followeth.

THE CONTINUATION Of the HISTORY Of the Magnanimous Maid.

THe boysterous Savoyards said Goodlake, di­sturbed me in the midst of the Relation of Mr. Forcett, made me of the Comportment of this vertuous Maid, during the absence of her Lover, that amongst the number of her Suitors she had turned away some, whose birth and for­tunes of persons might seem to bear equal bal­lance with her beloved Spencers, which yet could not batter her well-fixt Constancy, but that it still flood as firm as a Rock in the midst of the boysterous waves: But amongst the rest, conti­nued he, two Suitors there were, out of whose ridiculous humors she made her self sport, the one son to the Mayor of the Town where she lived, clownish in every thing, yet forced by his father to make address unto her, the old man hoping that by his power in the Town, he might gain her for his son; to tell you (said Forcett) the antick postures in which both the old man and his son courted this fair Virgin, the great proffers, and many invitations they made, would [Page 47] seem but tiresom, I shall therefore omit them and proceed to the other; who having usurped the Name of Captain, though never guilty of the least valor, or daring to look an enemy in the face, did think by his Rhodomontado terms rather to force than win affection, so that in the end he became a continual plague and vexation to her; neither her self nor any of her house being able to rest at quiet, or be free from his boysterous rudeness; her servants he comman­ded as his own, and with a kinde of an imperious boldness would assault her, as if his bellowing words like so many Cannons, were sufficient to batter the fortress of Faith. Thus was he for a good while her continual trouble, which she bore with patience, till at length she found out such a way to curb his domineering rudeness, as suf­ficiently demonstrated her of a high and magna­nimous spirit, far above her birth; often had she complained to me (said Forcett) of the roar­ings of this boysterous Captain, but I was as ig­norant as her self how to remedy it, much less could have invented such a course as she her self one day imparted to me she resolved to under­take, which seemed indeed at first so strange, that I stood amazed at the very mention of it, as I believe you will be when you hear every particular: It was briefly, calling me one time after she had just before been vexed with his de­bauchedness, she began to tell me that I could not but be sensible how grievous it was to her, to see her self controuled, her servants beaten, and her whole house commanded by a ranting fel­low, [Page 48] who having learned some high-flown spee­ches, thought he might with them domineer over the world, that for her part she could no longer endure it, and therefore had bethought her self of a remedy, which if I would assist her to effect, and promise to be secret in, she would put in execution: I told her I should be ready faith­fully to perform whatsoever she pleased, and that I was honored she would so far intrust me: Then know, continued she, that I cannot believe that this Bumbast Captain is any thing but an empty vessel, that all his boasts and Rhodomon­tado's of valor, are nothing but an empty and airy sound, and he as destitute of valor as he is of good manners, I have therefore resolved to make tryal of him; and if you will but furnish me with Clothes and a Sword, attired like a yong Gentleman, make an attempt of his cou­rage. I could not imagine what answer to re­turn to such a strange proposition; but are you serious indeed, said I? Serious, said she, if you doubt it, I will trouble you no further, but re­quest this courtesie of some one else. Nay, said I, if you be resolute, I shall assist you what lies in my power: but had you not better let me do this, than hazard your self? suppose he should fight, what resistance is your tender arm able to make? Fear not, said she, I cannot in the least suspect he will dare to oppose me, but if he do you shall see I will not yield basely. I laughed heartily (said Forcet) to hear her so confident, and promis'd her to furnish her out at all points; but then, said he, how will you do to meet him [Page 49] out of town? It must be your care, answered she, to train him forth: I concluded, said he, it should, and having appointed the place whither I would bring him, and to which I might have a fair excuse for; having over night furnished this Amazonian Maid with all necessaries, I easily perswaded him to walk next morning to the place destined for his disgrace; he all the way we walked chanting to me in a sublimated tone his almost unexpressible valors, and wishing that we might meet with some. Hector that durst af­front us, that I might bear witness of his coura­gious spirit. I sooth'd his humor, and taking leave of him at the place appointed, which was a style that led a-cross a large field, I pretending that I would onely call at a house which stood on this side the hedge, and at the further corner of the field, and promising him to meet him on the other side; no sooner was I gone over, but I perceived that by reason of the thickness of the hedge, he could not discern whether I took the way I promised or no, I clapt my self down close to the ground, looking through to behold the period of this Heroick Adventure, when scarce had the Redoubled Lance-prizado passed thirty yards from the hedge, but he was met by this Magnanimous Virago, clad like a spruce yong Gallant, who boldly jostled him, so that she almost overthrew him, yet though he tottered two or three yards out of the way, yet his pati­ence was not at all shaken, for without grumb­ling or seeming offended at his Affront, he courteously saluted our Amazon, and would [Page 50] have passed away, had not she now resolved to prosecute her intended revenge upon him to the height, and therefore following him, demanded vvith an angry countenance, wherefore he had jostled her? To which my roaring Captain very submissively replied, Indeed noble Sir, I hope you will be pleased to excuse me, for I intend­ed no harm, but you were pleased to thrust your poor servant out of the vvay. Villain thou liest, cries this manly Maid, and therefore vvith thy sword either give me satisfaction for my abuse, or here I vow to lay thee dead, why dost not draw? Hold, let me intreat you, hold, as you are a Gentleman, replied the Rhodomontado, for I have made a solemn Oath that I vvill not this day draw my sword against any. No, said she, thou hast taken the lie already, vvill not that provoke thee, I'le try if this will do, and there­vvithall gave him a full box on the ear. You may this day noble Sir, replied he, do vvhat you vvill vvith me, for I have solemnly resolved that I vvill not break my Oath. Villain thou liest, thou hast made no Oath, said she, 'tis Co­vvardice, meer Cowardice vvithholds thee, not Oaths, base Catife; why art not thou Rough­man that furious Ajax, vvhom no day doth pass but you either vvound, or kill, pray how comes this out of your Calender? Who I noble Sir, said he, I kill or wound? Alas! I never drew this sword in anger, unless it vvere on some poor vveak fellow that never durst wear steel a­bout him. And darest thou villain then, said she, dishonor all noble soldiers by vvearing [Page 51] that sword thou darest not use, deliver it me, or by Heaven I'le send thy Coward soul to Pluto. I could hardly, said Forcett, forbear laughing so loud that they might hear me, to see vvith vvhat a milde temper that man, vvho in a Tavern vvould Thunder as if he had been able to incounter half the vvorld, now delivered up his sword to a vvoman, and vvith humility sub­mitted to permit her to tread over him; vvhilest I seeing the bufiness to have so happily suc­ceeded, made haste to meet him at the other side of the field, vvhere I, making haste, arri­ved just as he came there, and before I could speak to him, began in a thundring tone to tell me, that just as he had prophesied, so it fell out, for he vvas scarce parted twenty steps from me, but he vvas encountred by one vvhose valor did as far exceed the Trojan Hectors, or Graecian Achilles's, as their did Dametas and Climas's. You tell me, said I, of a miracle, but of vvhat stature and years might this Hero be? I must confess, replied he, that he vvas of no gigantick proportion, nor did I believe count more then the sixth part of long-lived Nestors days, but for the agility of his body, strength, and nim­bleness of his arm, he exceeded all those mon­strous Giants, talk't of to be slain by George a horseback, Bevis of Southampton, or Guy of Warwick. [...]smiled vvithin my self, said Forcet, to hear these extravagancies, but because I vvould make no shew that I knew of the dis­grace put upon this Coward Bravo; I all the vvay as I vvent and returned to the Town, highly [Page 52] applauded his insuperable valor, as I termed it; nor did he vvant to give me occasion to do so, by ravelling up actions which he thought he had inforced me into a belief of, far beyond all the labors of Hercules. But that, continued he, which gave most occasion of pleasure in this ad­venture, vvas his desire that I vvould go vvith him to Besse Bridges her house, vvhom as he told me, he vvould acquaint vvith this his reso­lute combat; I easily consented to go with him, because I knew that there vve should soon make him sensible of his shame; being arrived there, he began to pursue his accustomed domi­neering fashion over her servants, and vvithall commanded her presence, and she being come, began to relate to her his adventure in such thunder-thumping vvords, that the furious bat­tel between the Centaures and Lapithites, con­tained not more horror then he expressed this vvith: Had you, said he, seen two tilling Me­teors justle in the middle Region, you vvould have made it an apt simile to that force and fury vvith vvhich vve encountred; Briarius's self with his hundred Giant hands, could not have dealt blows thicker, and more fierce, then this brave Trojan, yet vvere they all by the force of this invincible arm, able to repel thunder-bolts, put by, and on his head redoubled. Alas! said this Magnanimous Maid, I fear me this too much valour of yours will make you one [...] subject to the law, if it have not already, I tremble to think what became of your enemy. You may tremble, said he, to think of the fury of our [Page 53] fight, but I so hackt and hewed him, that if he be not past all fear and trembling, I'le never more put trust in this good sword. But if he be in such danger, replied she, why flie you not, and so escape the clutches of the Law? The Law, said he, I fear it not, for I vvas once told by a Conjurer I should never die for murder. He knew thy constitution very well, replied she, that told thee so, and I dare believe her; come hither Bragadochio, and tell me, was not this Gyant with whom thou didst encounter a youth, and of my pitch? Deny it if thou darest, or if thou hast the impudence to do it; see here, is not this the Sute he wore? this is the very shooe thou stoopedst to unty, and this the leg that did bestrid thee, whilest thou like a beastly Coward layest along, this hand returned again thy sword which thou yieldedst up at my first demand, de­ny but this, and in this womans habit I will force it from thee.

You cannot imagine (said Forcett) that I could contain my self and not burst into laughter, to see how gallantly she carried this Affair, whilest our high-flown Rhodomontado in as low a stile as he could invent, confessed that all she had said was true, begging of her not to make his shame publick. Redeem it then (said she) and I shall not be backward, with as much civility as I can aff [...]rd, to grace you as much as you have now disgraced your self. You have wakened me, replied he, and kindled in me that fire of valor, which clouded by some coward thoughts hath so long layen asleep, and made me prize my fame­less [Page 54] then my blood: you have, I say, awaked me, and if I deferre by some valiant deed to re­pair my wounded honor, you will do but justly to make me the scorn and reproach of boys and children; nor was he more slack in performance then he had been in promising, for quite lea­ving of his bragging humor, he became truly and worthily valiant, and now deserves the com­mendation of all deserving personages, so great a cure had this Magnamious Maid wrought. These are, said Forcett, some particular passa­ges of her life in your absence, to which the Ge­nerals have been so correspondent, that should I strive to applaud her vertues, truly I should but whisper to you, what her Fame blazons forth to the world.

I was both affected and afflicted, continued Goodlake, at this relation of Forcetts, and I must needs confess that I was never so nigh to have swerved from the course of vertue, as I was now for the estate which my dear friend Spancer had left to her, I thought unworthily bestowed, and could more willingly have hearkned to a Story of her inconstancy and incontinency, that I might have enjoyed the other moyety of his lands, then thus to have heard the whole world applaud her vertue: nay so much was I trans­ported, that whether it was out of covetize in my self, or a real sence of the unreasonableness of the gift to one of so mean birth, that I was tempted to make a trial of this so fained piece of chastity and vertue, which at length I resol­ved to do, and in a disguise for some days fre­quented [Page 55] her house, attempting her by all allure­ments of courtship, and promises of rewards, such as would in my thoughts have tempted an Angel; but I found her still lamenting the death of her Spencer, (which she had heard of by some Gentlemen that came over in the same ship with me) and resolutely bent that since she had not the fortune to enjoy him as her Love, she would never enjoy any; one day above the rest I pressed into her privacy, where I found her lamenting over the Picture of her beloved Spencer, I stood some time aside listning, when I might hear her say; It cannot sure be true that thou art dead my Spencer, death could not be so cruel to take thee in thy prime! but if he hath, how happy is that earth that doth contain thy breathless corps, how do the cold clay incir­cling thy tomb, rejoyce that it's a neighbor to so noble corps! Oh! that I were so happy to lye by thee, but since that cannot be, I'le study how to dye, that though our bodies lie at this vast distance, our souls may meet and safely har­bor together! and yet, why should I be so cruel to my self, to whom thou vvast so unkinde as not to leave me some few commands before thy death! this Picture which is thy lively repre­sentation, is more courteous, 'twill not deny me twenty thousand kisses, since the fates deny me thee, it shall be my husband, for here I vow ne­ver to marry other! At those words I stepped to her, and snatching away the Picture, would have departed with it, had not she, taking hold of my cloaths, stopped me, and falling down on [Page 56] her knees, cried out, Oh Sir! for goodness sake deprive me not of that Jewel which I prize a­bove the wealth of both the Indies, rather let me beg you to possess your self of all I have, and leave me onely that. You beg in vain, said I, nor must you think that bribes vvill make me so much wrong my friend as to leave his will un­performed. What was that friend, said she? 'Twas one, said I, loved you too well, nor did deserve such inconstancy as you have been guilty of, which made him charge and command me when his soul was now ready to expire to come hither, and force from thee this Picture, unfit to grace a Strumpets chamber. Suspend not my fear Sir, replied she, but let me know the name of this cruel friend of yours. Spencer, said I Villain, said she, starting up, thou liest, and so much more damned is thy lie, by how much thou wrongest by it the dead soul of him, who whilest living, would have pulled out that treacherous soul that durst have wronged that chastity, which I have so intirely preserved for him, and will for his memory. Nay, said I, if you will be angry vent your passions alone, fare­well. Oh! stay, cried she, and though my Spen­cer could be cruel as to deprive me of what I prize above my life, the onely remembrance I had of him, yet be not you so inhumane as to deny me to take my last farewel of it. I do not much care, said I, if I grant your suit, provided you will promise immediately to return it. As I am chaste I will, replied she, and therewithal gave her the picture, vvhich having kissed over, [Page 57] she began afresh to cry out, Oh! thou perfect resemblance of my Love, my dearest Love, for whose safety I have every morning before the Larks with their sweet Notes saluted bright Au­rora, and every night when all other humane Creatures were buried in sleep; and none but Stars were vvitnesses, poured forth Oraisons to Heaven, for whose sake I have remained con­stant and unspotted, though he hath been so un­kinde with his last words to blast my memory, accept yet this, and this kiss for my last farewel! and here Sir, said she, since it must be so, take this remembrance of my Lord, the sight of vvhich hath often made me give alms, visit pri­soners, and lend money to needy Travellers, that Heaven might repay it Spencer, but with it let me beg one boon, that if some few days hence you hear I am expired, you will for his sake, to whom you were once a friend, accom­pany my corps to the grave. I was so extreamly transported vvith this excess of vertue, (for what else to call it I know not) that I was nei­ther able to take the Picture, nor to undeceive her, but recollecting my self, and pulling off my disguise, no, said I, keep both it and withall this Ring from off your Spencers finger, nor did his love cease with his life, this Will brings you a Legacy of five hundred pound per annum. Oh! now you have told me that, replied she, which makes my losse the greater by how much his love was more superlative. But I hope Cap­tain Goodlake, continued she, you will excuse me for my being so rash with you, 'twas your [Page 58] disguise caused it. I must rather beg excuse, re­plied I, that I have been so harsh to you, though I doubt not your pardon; since, said I, 'tis now in vain to lament Spencers death, and that he hath divided his Estate betwixt us, let those loves which we severally ought to him, be joy­ned together in us. Alas! Sir, replied she, my love is buried in his grave, and my resolutions never to enjoy any other, sealed with a solemn vow▪ but because you were his friend, I will im­part to you a secret, which none else must know, & in which I doubt not but you will be partaker with me. Willingly, said I, be it to pass through dangers never undergone by men or devils yet. Go then, said she, and e're you know farther, purchase for me that ship which lies for sale in the rode, see her well fitted and manned, I have mony ready to defray all charges, and this done, you shall know farther; I went accord­ing as she desired me, though I could not yet imagine what design she intended: I soon fit­ted the Frigat according to her order, colouring both the Hull with black, and furnishing her with Sable Sails, and Colours; this done and the Frigat, (which she would have named the Ne­gro) being munitioned with sixteen brass Guns, and threescore and twelve stout men, I went to acquaint her that she was now in readiness to put to Sea, whom I found to have (whilest I was taking care about the ship) had the same care in sitting her self out for the voyage, ha­ving setled her Estate in case of miscarriage, and bestowed most of it to pious uses; being [Page 59] thus prepared, we soon set to sea, her self vested in mans apparel, and having administred an Oath to all in the Ship, not to discover her sex upon any disasters whatsoever without her free consent; to me she gave the command of the Ship, and made Roughman, into whom she had by her Magnanimous spirit inspired valor, my Lieutenant, Mr. Forcett accompanied us as a vo­luntier; we were for many days blessed with prosperous winds, steering our course directly towards the Islands, within two days sail of which we were encountred by a Spanish Man of War, who stoutly attacqued us, but found that resistance which he little expected, in sum, after two hours fight (during all which time this Mag­nanimous Maid behaved her self with a more then manly courage, cheering up the soldiers, and her self in person ventring amongst the thickest dangers) the Spaniard instead of ma­king us his Prize became ours, onely with the loss of seven of our best Seamen, but that was recompenced by the damage which the enemy fell, to wit, not onely of ship, goods and liberty, but the lives of near forty of their men; yet such was the generosity, that onely distributing some of the riches of the spoil amongst the Ma­riners, and disarming the Vessel, she gave those that survived the Ship, and sent them away with blessings for her courtesie; two days after this encounter we arrived in the Port of Fial, where she first discovered to the whole company what she often before had in private told me, to wit, that her whole intent of coming thither, was [Page 60] onely to fetch the body of her beloved Spencer, and intomb it in a place where her self might afterwards sleep with him; she therefore told them, that now she must make the utmost proof of all their affections to her, which would best be expressed by their valorous attempting the Town, and redeeming out of it the body of her there slain Lover; they all seemed ready and willing to accomplish her will, and though we were but 65. in number, not any mans fears, or doubts of ill success appeared in their faces, but all were ready to fall on, yet I was loath to think that so many good men should be cast a­way, and lost in vain, for with so small number to have attaqued a Town then newly and strongly refortified by the Spaniards, would have been an act of so great desperation, that we should hardly have escaped the censure of being guilty of our own murders; I therefore advised that we should first man out our Boat, to see if by the taking some stragling Spaniards, we might come to know what force was in the Town, before we attempted so hazardous an en­terprize; this counsel, after a small deliberation, was agreed and assented to, and Mr. Forcett with ten men taking the command of the Boat, soon brought us in two Spaniards, whom their own fears made confess, that after the departure of Essex his Fleet, the Spaniards were returned, and had with a new line begirt the Town, that they had received great supplies both of men, ammunition, and provision, from the Spanish Fleet, but lately departed thence; that the sol­diers [Page 61] now in garrison, were two Companies of foot, besides the inhabitants; but all this had not deterred us from pursuing our first intenti­ons of assaulting it, had not the Spaniards, up­on the enquiry of our Virgin owners, informed us, that the body of Spencer, though at first bu­ried in the great Church, and a stately Monu­ment reared over it, was upon the Spaniards repossessing of the Town, it was removed thence as the Corps of a Heretique, (as those of your faith are pleased to stile us, though I believe the greatest part of those our Nation rather en­tertain the Protestant Religion, as that which they suck in with their mothers milk, then out of any sounder reason or search into the depth and truth of it) and buried in the fields, nor was it yet permitted to rest there, for the man that ought the field doubtful that his Corn would never prosper, whilest his Land was fat­ted with a Heretiques body, petitioned the Church that it might be taken up and burnt, which was easily granted, and as readily per­formed. The impossibility therefore of effecting our desires, or gaining what we came for, made us desist from further pursuit of it, but not from some part of our revenge, in battering down some part of the Town and Church, upon those who dealt so harshly with the body of our dead friend; this we had scarcely performed when from the main-top one of our Mariners espied two sails coming in directly towards us, we had no reason to guess them other then enemies, and therefore immediately made ready to fight [Page 62] them, and because they should not have the advantage of combating us in their own Port, we made out, and to draw them somewhat far­ther off the land, that they might have no relief from thence, made show of flying from them, and they as greedily pursued us as the hungry Tyger would his prey, but being as we thought at sufficient distance from shore, tacked about upon them, and easily gaining the Windward, when we came nigher we might perceive that the one was an English Merchant-man, made Prize by the other a Spanish Rover; we were mightily encouraged to finde that we had no ods against us, and therefore readily clapt them aboard, not doubting but to carry them at the first assault, but our hopes failed us, for we were not onely twice beaten back, but the third time boarded by them, and had not our men been more then men, we had utterly been lost; but who would refuse to fight when they saw our Magnanimous Amazon encouraging them, and her self in the van, prostrating her tender body to the greatest dangers, her valor it was that at length repelled the Spaniards, and prosecuting the Victory (whilest I wounded in this last as­sault was (unable longer to stand) retired to my Cabbin) soon made those proud Dons vail their Top-sail to her Maiden Flag: And now posses­sed of her enemy, she next generously pursues the release of the English prisoners, to whom she freely restored both their ship and goods, and supplied what dammage they had received, out of the riches of the Spanish Pirate; but sur­veying [Page 63] the persons of all the Prisoners, she chanced to cast her eye upon one, whose coun­tenance so absolutely represented her Spencer, that had she not been confirmed by so many convincing that he was dead, she would cer­tainly have challenged him for hers, but confi­dent of his death she refrained, yet the so near remembrance of him surprized her spirits, so that swounding away, she was conveyed into her Cabbin; nor were his eyes (for Spencer it was indeed) during her stay less fixed upon her, he believing that he had seen that face, but by reason of her virile habit, not in the least dream­ing it could be she; Roughman who was now the chief in the ship during our owners indispo­sition, and my weakness, dispatched away the Merchants ship to follow her intended traffick, and thus were these two Lovers, by reason of my wounds, no sooner met then parted, seeming to know and yet not daring to know each other. The Spanish Prize was equally divided amongst the Sailors, and the Hull being made unser­viceable with our shot, sunck in; but it was the care of this Magnanimous Maid that the Span­jards should all be safely set on shore at Fial, which being done, we Roved for some months over a wilderness of seas, seeking out revenge upon the Spaniards for their inhumanity to Spencers body; but at length we were forced for want of fresh water, to put into Mamorrah, a Port belonging to the Kingdom of Fosse, into which being entred, our noble Virgin owner, weary of her manly habit, revested her self in [Page 64] most gorgeous feminine Robes, as well for her own pleasure, as to let the Moors have a sight of those beauties with which England was en­riched; it is the custome in that Country that as soon as any ship comes into haven, one of the chief Beighs belonging to the King, goes aboard, as well to take knowledge from whence she came, and for what reasons she came thither, as to take an account of her lading, which he is at his return to deliver into the hands of the King his Master; it fortuned that it was the turn of Beigh Alcade to come aboard our Negro, who being brought into the presence of our Heroick Maid, was struck with such wonder and amaze­ment at her excelling beauty, that not able to require an account of us, he stood rather like a Statue then any living soul, but at length re­collecting himself, he fell down on his knees, and terming her the Goddess of the Sea, made proffer to kisse the hem of her garments, but being raised up by her, and told that she ex­pected no such adoration, but onely came in thither to desire some relief of fresh water, and other necessaries for her Seamen; he hardly yet put out of his belief that she was some Goddess, told her that all they had were offer­ings too little for so divine a presence, and that the hearts of men were oblations fitter for her worth, then such mean and earthly things as she desired: Talk not of divinity, replied she, for we are all like you, mortals; nor come we hither to be worshipped (though we know you prone enough to adore novelties) but to [Page 65] supply our necessities with which desires if you please to acquaint your King, you will pay us that service which we shall accknowledge as a favour, and endeavour to requite. I am happy dumbe Creature (answered Alcade) that the Gods have at length been so favourable to me, as to confer a bounty on me worthy themselves, that is the serving you; our Heroick Virgin re­turned him thanks for his professed readiness to supply our necessities, and having caused some rich presents to be offered him, which he thank­fully accepted dismissed him to give an account to Mullisheg King of Fesse his Master of his ad­venture, who earnestly attended the success of it, for the blackness of our sailes, Ship, and col­lours, had astonished not only himself, but all his Subjects: Alcade being arrived at Court, the King had not patience to attend his coming up into the Presence, but meeting him almost at the Gate, demanded of him what ladeing that mournful Vessell brought, she brings, mighty King (answered Alcade) a jewell more worth then all your Kingdoms; then all my Kingdomes (said Mullisheg) what i [...]estimable thing is that thou talkst of? surely thou must either overvalue that, or undervalue my vast Dominions; is the whole Ship an intire Diamond, and all her Cordage Ropes of Orient Pearle, yet were itso it would not stand in competition with my Po­tent Realmes Alas! great Sir (replied Alcade) 'tis not the Ship but her lading that is so in­estimable, she bears a Goddess in her, a God­dess said Mullisheg la [...]ghing, sure thou art di­stracted? [Page 66] I know not whether I am distracted or no (answerd he) but sure I am, my sences are ravished with such Divine Angelical features as never mortal yet beheld, and if she be less then a Goddess there are certainly no Deities. Mullisheg was strangely amazed to hear this re­port, not could he containe (though he almost beleived it but a fancy of Alcade [...]s) from satis­fying his curiosity, having therefore commanded a present of all sorts of necessary provisions of the richest and delicatest to be taken out of his Store-houses for those were the things he under­stood by Alcade Beigh they most wanted, he caused Ioffer Bassa his prime Minister of state to accompany Alcade back again to the Negro with orders to inquire into the birth and Coun­try of this Princess (for he so judged her to be rather then a Goddess) and if they could possibly either by gifts of promises of honour and prefer­ments to perswade the Captain to bring on shore that rich Cargazoon of beauty. According to his orders they came a board, and found all things to suite with their utmost desires, she her self freely proffering to attend the Moresco King pro­vided he would first consent to sign such Articles as she would send him which were in short these. First that there should be liberty granted to her and her attendants to leave the land at pleasure. Secondly safe conduct to and from her Ship at her own discretion. Thirdly that she might live free from all violence either from the King or any of his subjects. Fourthly that her Marri­ners might be allowed fresh victuals aboard; and [Page 67] lastly, That the King should offer nothing upon her person more then what he should gaine by free courtship and intreaty. These Articles were no sooner sent, but returned, signed, and confirmed; and we in confidence of their per­formance accompanied the Bashaw on shore, where we were received with all Magnificence imagniable: Mullisheg was seated not purposly for our reception, but according to custome upon a Throne of three ascents, richly covered with a Canopy of Gold, for the distribution of justice, he had taken some admiration of her beauty at the report of Alcade Beigh, but had not fansied it so great as to him now it seemed, for in such amazement was he strucken at the first glance of her Sun-like beams, that not able to move him­self from his imperial Throne, he there sate as if he had been inchanted; but raising himself, he descended and taking her by the hand, placed her in the Chair, where his Royal Queen used some­time to sit, & after having uttered several extra­vagant speeches in the praise of her beauty, told her that that day she should sit as supream Judge for the triall of all causes should come before him, amongst the rest there were two Christian Merchants, one of which for stealing Custome was fined one thousand Duckets, the other con­demned to a forfeiture both of Ship and goods, both which by her intercession were released, and the life of an English Divine saved, who vain­ly endeavoured to convert the Moores par­doned; but as these causes were debating, who should come in as a Petitioner but her beloved Spencer: 'twas strange what amazement seized [Page 68] upon us two at the sight of that which we could take for nothing but his Ghost, nor was his wonder less to see us there. I was just going to salute him in that publick place and to try whe­ther he were a reality or a shadow, had not his fair love detained me, and advised me to take some privater oportunity. Capt. Goodlake was further persuing this story, then which Spinola confessed he never heard one more delightful, when he was interrupted by a messenger from the Duke of Mantua, who came to acquaint these two valiant Commanders, that the Duke of Ferrara hearing that the Mantoves Army dayly increased in numbers, and would in short time arrive to such power as would be able to force him from his seige, thought it more honourable to raise it himself, & before their numbers were too much increased, give a second rout if posible, which effected, the conquest of his whole Coun­try would assuredly follow; that to the end he might find them the more unprovided, he had filently raised his leagure, and that his vant­guard was already advanced within 12 miles of Marandola, that therefore the Duke of Mantua had sent for them to desire their speedy Coun­cill what was sit to be done, Spinola returned answer, that they would presently waite upon his Highness, though he never went with more re­gret to consult of affaires which tended to his honour, because he was forced to forgo the hea­ving of a story at an adventure, which he most of all desired to hear.

The Continuance of the History of the Magnanimous Maid.

IT was my fortune (dread Soveraign) to be in the Port of Mamorrah, when this most excel­lent maide arrived with her Ship called the Ne­gro in that haven, what her entertainment was, fame hath already so fully resounded in your Highness eares, that I need not make any farther relation of it, no more then I need give you a reci­tal of the many pious acts, which by the powers her beauty had gain'd over that Moorrish King; she did to many Christians, either whose ships, goods, or liberties had been made forfeit to the Tyran­ny, or severer Laws, of those Infidells.

Let it suffice your Highnes to take notice of an adventure which surpasses all that ever I heard, amongst other addresses made to her whilst she sate with that great King upon the judgment-seat there came in a Gentleman seemed to be a suiter for the release of an English Ship, seized upon by the Kings officers for some default in [...]he payment of customes, it was my hap, so please your Highness at that instant to be in the Court, when I might perceive a strange altera­tion and distraction both in the countenance of [Page] that renowned maid and this strange Gentle­man who for manlike beauty and comeliness of Person exceeded in my opinion all that ever I saw; Gods! how did their eyes dart wonders at one another, a man might easily perceive in th [...]r co [...]iences that they did know, and yet did scarse beleive they knew each other, so great was their distraction that the Gentleman was not able to make known his desires, and certainly the King had taken notice of their passion had [...] the Captaine of the Negro who equaly [...] this Gentleman taken him aside and infor­med [...] himself of that happiness which before he [...] doubt of.

My curiosity drew me to that part to which they had retired, where I might understand by the summe of their discourse, that this Noble Gentleman was the occasion that drew that magnanimous Virgin out of her own Country, Not out of any hopes ever to injoy him but out of the excess of love which she had formerly bore him, to fecht his Corps (beleeved to be buried in Fiall) to grace it with asumptious interment in England, but being arrived there, i [...] was reportde that his body was by the reveng­full Spaniards, burnt and the ashes thrown into the aire, so that her intentions being frustrated, accident rather then design had brought her into that Port.

The strangness of this adventure, made me draw neerer to hear the period of it, and how this Gentleman so long beleived to be dead was now again revived which I found to be by [Page 81] his own relation thus, that in few daies after the departure of the fleet had recovered of those wounds which by his friend he was thought to have died of, that the mistake arose from the death of one of his name, whose ashes might in probability be so abused by the cruell Spaniards, that himself not finding a passage directly for England had Embarqued upon that Merchant­man now forfect, then bound for Mamoroh & so for his own Country, that they were first taken by the Spaniard, and then soon after released by that ship Negro, where seeing the owner (for so was this magnanimous Maid esteemed,) in mans apparell he did think notwithstanding his disguise▪ that she much resembled the joy of his heart, at those words his friend imbracing him, cried out how unfortunate were those wounds I [...]hen received, for forcing me to retire from the discovery of thee my Spencer, whose [...]ight would not then have been less dear to me then now, after so many chances and strange variety of for­ [...]unes which according to the vulgar opinion do generally endeare affections; but we must now, continued he, endeaver to manage our bus [...] ­ness wisely, for fear least the love which I per­ceive the Moorrish King is inflamed with towards your Mistress, should work your own and our destruction; go therefore and without any further notice taking, urge your suite for the release of the English Ship and goods.

The Gentleman did as his friend the Captain [...]ad advised him, nor needed there much in­treaty to prevail in the Suite, whilst that fair [Page 82] Virgin interceded so its grant; yet so closely, they could not conceal their loves and affection [...] to each other, but it was easily discerned by the enamoured Mullisheg, whose Rage began to ap­pear in his eyes against his Rival, which being perceived, both by Spencer and his beautiful [...] Mistress, they resolved, seeing they were no [...] longer able to conceal their Loves, freely to [...] declare to the King, knowing that by will [...] concealment of what was so apparent, the [...] should but lose themselves; nor could they [...] more if they revealed their Loves; the strange [...] misfortunes of which, they thought, might move [...] the Moor, if he had any sence of Nobleness [...] Generosity, to grant them the enjoyment [...] their long laboured for desires.

Armed with this Resolution, the genero [...] Spencer (taking opportunity when the Moo [...] King was seated Gloriously on his Throne▪ which shewed more Replendant by being a [...] do ned with that Paragon of Beauty) kneelin [...] down begged a Boon of Mullisheg, who having been alwaies hitherto used to grace him for [...] fa [...]e of his fair Mistress; bad him freely ask [...] promising upon his Royal word not to deny hi [...] any thing. Shew your self then most might [...] King, said he, what Fame has Renowned [...] for, and grant me this fair Virgin, whon neithe [...] the envious Fates, nor boistrous Seas could [...] me of, to be my Wife. Heavens! how did [...] Request [...] the Sable Mullisheg, his fier [...] eyes did seem to dart forth Lightning, and gnash [...] ­ing his Ivory Teeth, leapt out of his Chair [...] [Page 83] State, and shaking his Ebon locks, drew forth his Scimatar with such violence, as if he would have clest assunder the two Poles, and made the whole foundation of the Earth sink to its pri­mitive Chaos: In summe, crying out; And dares any insolent slave attempt to deprive me in my own Court, and at the foot of my Impe­erial Throne, of a Jewel I esteem above my Crown? Base Caitife, thy Request hath spoke thy death, and those audacious Accents of thy ill instructed Tongue, were the passing Bell to thy deserved Funeral: nor will I, by Heaven lon­ger defer my Justice: His threatning words had been seconded by as hasty a blow upon the head of the worthy Spencer, had not the magnnani­mous Maid interposed, and laying hands upon his Arms, cryed out: Truce-breaking Mullisheg, most undeserving the name of a King; who da­rest thus publickly break and violate those Oaths thou so lately swor'st to? what faith can ever hereafter be had in the word of a King, if the great Mullisheg who once was famed for the most good and just of any of his belief, shall be­come a perjured Wretch? And yet know cruel and unjust Tyrant, that if thou persistest in this villany▪ (for other I cannot term it) thou shalt be yet further from enjoying thy lustful and irre­gular will upon me, for I vow to all the gods I will not outlive him a moment.

The fierce lookt Mullisheg stood as it were as­tonished at her Generosity, and amazed at the Majesty of her Anger, his trembling hand let slip his Sword, and falling back into his Throne, [Page 84] he fixed his eyes upon the ground, and as if he durst not look upon so much offended Beauty, sate rather like a sensless Statua then a living Prince.

But after a small time of revengefull Cogita­tions (though his fury seemed all the while to abate) he with a voice scarce demonstrating the least passion, commanded his Attendant Guard to seize on the Generous Spencer, which they were as ready to effect, as he to command; had not he resolutely determined (knowing what would be the issue of a Moorish Prison) ra­ther to sell his life at the dearest rate with his Sword in his hand, then be starved to death in a loathsome Dungeon.

The Guard seeing themselves thus confron­ted, and indeed repulsed, by one single man, in the presence of their Prince, added fury to their Numbers, and resolved all at once to suppress him, but with such strength and courage, did he brandish his death-threatning Sword, that like those Rats who were to hang a Bell about the cats neck, none durst be the first to approch him.

In the mean time, this worthy and magnani­mous Maid, snatching from the ground the Morrish Kings Sword, thrust her self amongst the thickest of the Guard, to assist or defend her generous Lover; and at length, coming to the place where he was, she like a Breast-plate clapt her self before him, endeavouring to receive or defend all blows that were made at him; but the timerous Guard, whether not daring to of­fend so much Beauty, or daunted at her heroick [Page 85] Courage, made no further attempt upon her be­loved Spencer.

The falling off of the Guard bred a pity of these two Lovers in the heart of the Sable Mul­lisheg; yet he thought fit at first to make no shew of it, but calling them before him with an angry Countenance: Is it possible, said he, that you should yet dare thus to affront me in my own Court, whilst it lies in my power to inflict on you the most terrible of Tortures? Tortures (replyed this magnanimous Maid) know base Tyrant, the most fell Tortures that ever barba­rous Affrica invented, can no more make us al­ter our fixt Resolutions, then Kings are able to make the Heavens bow to do them Reverence: for know, insulting king, our Loves are like the Center of the World, so strongly seated in our hearts, that nothing but a general dissolution can shake them. Whilst the King sate still ama­zed, and musing upon the Gallantry of the En­glish Maid; the Captain of the Negro who had not been idle all this whiue, but shewed suffici­ent demonstrations of his resolutions, to follow the fate of his friends, adressing himself to Mullisheg; seconded her words with somwhat to this effect. I need great King (said he) urge how infamous you will becom by breaking that faith which you so lately gave. Kings are easier in­cited to action, which will add to their former Glory, then by words deterred from those would ecclipse, He let it suffice that you have now opportunity offered to do an action which will make the great Mullisheg renowned through [Page 86] the world joyn these two lovers hands, the story of whose constancy, were it but related, would move compassion not in you only but in the very senceless Rocks, O let not then Sir your in­temperate love sway you above your honour, but as you have been conquerour of mighty King­domes, let this action demonstrate to the world that you are victor over your self and over your immoderate desires, so shall forraigne Nations that never yet heard your name Chronicle your vertues.

This speech of the Captaines wrought so effectually with the inclining Mullisheg that [...]ising from his Chaire, you have (said he) wake­ned in me that heroick spirit; which can never suffer lust to triumph over vertue, Most excel­lent Virgin, whom before we loved for the out­ward graces, but now admire for that inward ornament of thy soul, thy loyal constancy, accept from my hand thy long hoped for love; whose story having heard discourst, the greatest riches of my Kingdom shall Solemnize your Nuptials; Were but the great Mullisheg (answered this Magn [...]nimous Maid) of the Christian faith, I should believe him a god on earth▪ but let this action however so celebrate his fame, that he may be an eternall patterne to future Kings, to account it a greater glory to be conquerours of themselves then of the greatest Empire.

Many other words passed to the like purport, and so the company for the present withdrew to the Kings Pallace, where shortly after all imagi­nable preparations were made for the Solemni­zation [Page 87] of the Nuptials of these two English lovers, but my occasions mighty Duke, calling me from thence, I could not stay to see the mar­riage solemnized, though I afterwards heard that it was performed with wonderful state; and since your Highness tells me that she was cast by shipwrack into your countrey; I have reason to beleive that great sorrow which at present overshadowes that nature which used to be civil, courteous, and debonair, is for the loss of her husband who undoubtedly perisht in the all devouring sea.

The Duke was extreamly delighted with this relation of the Merchant, but especially with the hopes he had of the worthy Spencers loss, for he thought that might facilitate the enjoy­ment of his beautious Mistress, which he resol­ved to leave no way unattempted to attain; and therefore commanded the Merchant to go and present her with own of his ri [...]hest Jewels, va­lued at ten thousand Crowns, knowing how much gifts do prevail over the soft and easie na­tures of women; but though her civility taught her to accept the Dukes Jewel, yet her honour inclined her to a resolution, that not a whole Dukedome should tempt her to a violation of her chastity.

Scarce was Sig. Iacomo Bonaventuro departed to offer up his rich present, to the fair hands of the fairest guest, but a messenger arrived to ac­quaint the Grand Duke of Florence, that after the long continued bloody warrs between the two Dukes of Mantua and Ferrara, they had [Page 88] concluded a firme and lasting league; and were resolved within two daies to visit Florence, to make his Highness and his whole Court and Countrey a witness of their late concluded ami­ty. The Duke received the Messenger with all honour due to one, who came as agent from two such Princes, returning them thanks suita­ble to the honour done him by such a visit, and withal giving order that his Court should be made to shine with Gold and Pearls, for their more sumptuous entertainment.

Two daies after the two Princes arrived, be­ing met by the grand Duke, with an infinite train of Nobility on horseback, three miles without the City, and so with inexpressible state, con­ducted to the Royal Palace, where the Tuscan being seated on his Throne, and the two Prin­ces on each side of it, he endeavoured to make their welcome grateful, by telling of them, that the honour they had done him in leaving their Courts to visit him, should be recorded as an everlafting Trophy of their loves, and an eter­nal monument, of a firm and perfect amity with them both. They returned an address suitable to his civility, by telling him, that having happily composed their two long lasting differences, they thought themselves oblieged, to make a tender of their united league to his Highness, as to greatest and most renowned Prince of Italy, selecting him as a Royal witness of their blest union: Nor must we, continued the Duke of Mantua, forget to present unto your Highness [Page 89] this pair of Heroick Englishmen, who as they defended us severally with their Armes, so they united us in their friendship. I have heard in­deed long since (answered the Tuscan Duke) of their Noble deeds of Armes, loud fame having blazoned it into most Courts of Christendome, but that they have been happy in reconciling two Princes, and stopping that issue of blood, would in time have overflowed their Countries, makes them more glorious then all their acts of Chivalry, and herewith he Rose from his chair to salute the two English strangers, whom he perceived made their addresses to kiss his hand, which he would by no means permit, but affectionately embracing them, told them that persons of such great worth were not to be re­ceived as Subjects, but Companions to Princes; and though he knew no way to do it according to their deserts: yet he should study to find one out, they humbly on their knees returned thanks to the Duke for his Noble reception, ex­cusing themselves as not deserving any such fa­vour at his hands; Your fame hath already suffi­ciently spoken your deserts (answered the grand Duke) but if any of these Noble personages will do me the honour to inform me of some of the latter passages of that war, I doubt not but your actions will best speak your character. 'Twas a kind of a pleasant strife to see how the two Dukes hastened which should first satisfie the Thuscan, and do right to their Champions, which at length being conceded to the Duke of Mantua Ferrara, being retired he thus began.

The continuation of the story of the two Worthies Spencer and Goodlake.

AFter the fortunate armes of the Duke of Ferrara, assisted as himself confesses, chiefly by that noble English Gentleman (pointing to the gallant Spencer who had hither [...]o con [...]ealed his name) to whom I think deservedly he attri­butes his whole success, had gained that signal victory over my forces on the Plams of Meran­dola, I retreated with a small remainder of my Army, unto that strong fortress, there to endea­vour again to re [...]ire my sha [...]reted B [...]ig [...]es, though with little hopes ever to appear again in the field, had not the invin [...]ible arms of the ge­nerous Spinola, and thrice valient Goodlake for­ced a victory from the Savoyards and Ferraresses, and joyned their forces to mine, whereby I not only gained their assistance, but other of my Subjects having their hopes revived by their victory, came flocking in to offer their service in assistance of my cause, which they now accoun­ted nothing less then desparate.

But the Duke of Ferrara having advice of the great supply which dayly came into my Army, as he was incamped before my Metrapolitan Ci­ty of Mantua, thought it the better policy to raise his seige then to be raised from it, and I suppose it was then debated in his counsel of [Page 91] War, that every delay did but add more strength to my forces, that the City was yet well provi­ded with all sorts of provision, strengthned with a strong Garrison, and therefore not likely to be surrendred or forced in a short time; that if he could once more give a general defeat to my forces, the City would of it self come in without any resistance, that therefore the Duke should immediately raise his seige, and if possible pro­voke me to a battel.

This last conclusion was made a resolve, and such was their expedition in advancing towards us, or the negligence of my Scouts, that the whole Army of the Duke of Ferrara was scarce half a daies march distant, ere I had any advice of their motion, which put me at first into some distraction, but finding all delays to be so many presenting perils, I immediately called a Coun­sel of War, where it was with one voice advised and assented to, that I should with all speed draw out my whole forces, and give my then Enemy Battel.

Thus were the plains of Merandola the se­cond time to be made the stage whereon we were to act a bloody Scene, for we had advice that the enemy not much above four leagues off was entring upon them, nor was that large Champayne above half a League distant from our Camp. The Sun had about two houres de­clined towards the Western Horizon, when our whole Army, consisting of about five thousand horse, and twelve thousand foot advanced, and somewhat before sunset, faced the Duke of Fer­rara's [Page 92] Camp, who with about the same number of horse and foot, had seated himself with their backs directly opposing the morning sun.

'Twas strange that two so great Armies should lie so close together with so little noise, neither being guilty of the least excursion du­ring the whole night, though I must confess I was advised by some, and that not without rea­son, to have immediately fallen upon Ferrara's Forces, whilst I had the advantage of the setting sun, which darted i'ts rayes just into the faces of my Enemies; besides, it was urged that the Fera­resses, having had many long & tedious marches without intermission, must needs be very wea­ry, and so easily be overcome by a fresh Army, but all those arguments were opposed by the generous Goodlake, bravely encouraging me to scorn to take the least advantage of a foe, whose numbers exceeded not mine.

The next day before the sun had displayed it's Golden Rayes upon the Parched earth, the Drums and Trumpets Alarum'd both Armies to their bloody work, my right wing of Horse I committed to the charge of the thrice Noble Spinola and the gallant Goodlake, the left wing was committed to the charge of that worthy Souldier, your Highness Subject, Signior Alonzo Tristamara, my self in person Commanded the main body of the Army, and as if it were by joynt consent, the Duke of Ferrara had orde­red his Forces in the same manner as I had done mine, the English stranger Commanding the [Page 93] [...]ight wing of Horse, Signior Giaspare Piemontese [...]hat approved veteran the left wing, and the Duke himsself having charge of the maine [...]attel.

The Peales of Ordnance, like so many fune­ [...]al Knells, having rung out a fierce Alarum to both parties, and the Drums and Trumpets [...]ounded an encouraging charge, our armies joy­ [...]ed just about the time when the sun shewed [...]is dewy locks above the Caerulian Sea, and [...]here as 'twere stood still to behold the gallant [...]ctions of these two noble strangers, who most [...]esolvedly charging in the heads of their troops, [...]n few hours time with an infinite slaughter in­ [...]erchangeably put to flight their opposites, whilst the main Battalias faught with equal suc­ [...]ess, or indeed scarce at all, but amazedly beheld [...]he incredible actions of the two English men. Gods! How like flaming Comets did their [...]rightned swords peirce through the Helmets of [...]heir enemies; the left wing of the Duke of Ferrara's Army was forced to yield to the un­conquerable Arme of Goodlake, nor did ours find a milder fate in endeavouring to resist a­gainst that of the other invincible, but yet un­known stranger, when at last Goodlake leaving Spinola still to pursue the routed Ferraresse in the left wing, came to the assistance of ours, with a ful resolution to meet that gallant stran­ger who had wrought such wonders against us.

[Page 94]But it hapned that at the same time that Goodlake with a gallant party, came in to the as­sistance of our left wing, his other magnanimous Countryman (though then unknown of him to be so,) was gon with a select Brigade of Horse to repair the ruines on the Duke of Ferrara's part, Heavens! how soon did their presence alter the Scene of affairs, those who before were persuers, were now persued; the gallant Spinola charging in the head of his troops, became a sacrifice to the sword of Ferrara's Champion, & on the other side those troops which his presence had before made victorious, now fled as fast as they before pursued, before my valient Commander. In this variety of fortune did the battel continue on both sides, for the whole day those two noble strangers, seeming as it were the soules of the two Armies which moved those great bodies at their pleasure, till after Sun-set the approaching darkness of the night, rather then any other cause, made us both willingly sound a retreat, as well to rest our wearied bodies, as to compute [...] our losses.

'Tis almost incredible (worthy Prince) what infinite slaughter this day made, those vast and wide-stretching plains seemed covered with the bodies of the dead; nor could either Army boast above half the number which they had that mor­ning seen alive and well: Strange fury of men, worse then that of wild beasts, for these are never ravenous upon those of their own brood, but we am­bitiously strive to destroy one another!

[Page 95]The next mornings light called up the two Armies again, to put a final pe [...]iod to this bloo­dy Tragedy, the Trumpets and Drums had soun­ded the alarum, and now onely attended to change their note to that of another fell and dreadful charge, when a Herald from the Duke of Ferrara's Army brought me the ensuing Let­ter.

This Challenge which I may in some regard call pious (as I understood afterwards from the Duke of Ferrara) proceeds wholly from the ge­nerous intreaties of that worthy stranger, who moved out of a noble pitty, to see too neigh­bour Princes in that cruel manner, sacrifice their Subjects lives, to either their disdain or ambition for a thing scarce worth the contention, freely offered his blood to end the difference, which Ferrara confident of his valour, as readily accep­ted.

Nor can I, tell you mighty Prince, with what joy I received his offer, though I was doubtful when I least had need) who to make choice of for the defender of my right, for no sooner was the Challenge read in my Councel of War, but the thrice valient Goodlake, falling on his knees, earnestly intreated to do him the honour to make him my Champion, which he added, he desired not so much out of a confidence of his own strength or valour, but that he might re­revenge [Page 97] the blood of the most Noble Spinola, for between them two was there contracted an inviolable friendship.

I readily assented to his request, nor was there any of the most daring that murmured at it, ei­ther because they had had too much experience of the vallour of the enemies Champion, (for we all beleived the stranger) or because they thought none but him able to cope with him, or else because they thought it convenient that the other being a stranger none but a stranger should combat▪ him. So I immediately returned this an­swer to Ferrara's Duke.

[Page 98]A Herald from me being sent, with this re­turned, with speedy answer that the Duke of Ferrara, would immediately deliver into my power as Hostages the Count Lozenzo Porzcachy and Signior Giasparo Piemontese, if in exchange of them I would send the Count Piedro Giovanni, and Signior Alonzo Tristamara, which I wil­lingly agreed to, and they were on both sides fairely delivered.

Exchange being thus made, and all conditi­ons agreed upon, the sound of the Trumpets called forth the two Champions into the feild; the first that appeared was the Challenger, mounted on a black Steed, and his Armour so perfectly black that there appeared not any thing about him which was not wholly sable, save only a small green Scarfe tied about his wast; my Champion was on the contrary appa­reld all in white, being a furniture I purposely gave him to denote the justness and nocency of my cause, yet his own fancy lead him to in­circle his ar [...]es with a mourning Scarfe.

Having made two or three traverses about the feild, the signall was given, which the two Com­batants received with so much readiness as I never yet beheld the like, their fiery Steeds breathing forth nothing to all mens appearance but death and destruction; yet ran so fiercely at each other, that they seemed to threaten the shaking of the whole Universe; yet these two gallant spirits at the breach of there Lances up­on each others helmet sate like two Rocks un­moved in their Saddles, when furiously drawing [Page 99] out their Swords they made us believe that the Combat between Ajax Telamon, and the vali­ant Hector, was again renewed, such was the ponderousness of the strokes that they would have forced the Heaven, assaulting Giants to have bowed under them.

But how soon was this storme changed into a calme. These two Champions who but just be­fore, with such violence and fury assaulted each other; on a suddain to the amazement of us all threw away their Swords, and leaping of their Horses cast themselves into mutual embraces: We were doubtful, at first what to think of this so strange adventure, some were of opinion that they still fought, affirming that it was the manner of England, not to stand overlong dallying with their Swords, but by closing try out the issue of the fight by strength; others beleived that by some accident, they had come to make some happy discovery of themselves to be two friends, and were now imbracing (which was indeed the truth) and renewing their antient friendship, nor wanted there some to beleive that, one par­ty had yeilded to the other, though they could not guess which; yet either in the interim beleived themselves betraied.

The agreement made that none should stir, from their post, to assist or encourage either Champion, made us with the greater patience await an issue, which after no short time of ex­pectation was brought to either side by the combatants themselves. Good lack being arrived at my Tent, I was very inquisitive to know the [Page 100] reason of that strange amity so suddenly agreed upon between two soes, who I beleive went with as equall regret and hatred to the seild, as did Paris and Neoptolomus, when the one vow'd▪ to revenge the death of a father, the other of a friend and brother.

But the intreated me to restrain my curiosty, till such time as I could call a general Counsel of War; to whom he desited publickly to de­clare the event: I assented to his request, and having summoned all the cheif officers of my army together, seats being taken according to order, he thus began to relate the story.

‘That I have, Noble Mantoveses, ever since I entertained your Dukes service, behaved my self both as became a souldier & Commander, I hope there's none here will gain say, nor de­ny that I have alwaies readily ventured my life to the greatest hazards, perrils and dangers, which the various chance, & fortune of this warr hath cast before me; and yet I think never any of you before heard me so much sound forth my own praises: nor do I now make this Ex­ordium, either to angment my own, or dimi­nish your worth, but to tell you that I can now no more hazard my blood for you, that life which before was a butthen, is now grown precious to me, and I may say that through both yours and the Duke of Ferrara's Armies, are still in the feild as opposites, I have by your warrs gained such a requiem as just a period to my further labours. For I have found my friend for whose only sake or rather for whose [Page 101] supposed loss I became your friend, and Ferrara's foe; let your contracts then migh­ty Sir end in our friendship, and as we have shewed you an example, through away your blood thirsty swords, and turne your emnity in to embraces.’

He would I beleive have proceeded farther to our admiration, had not the arrival of a Herald from the Duke of Ferrara's Camp, requiring speedy audience obstructed him, who being ad­mitted addressing himself to me, told me that he beleived my Champion had already prepared me with what he came about; that his Master in­clined by the strange accident which had hap­ned between the two Combatants, was resol­ved likewise to lay aside his offensive armes, and embrace me with those of an eternall friendship; that to that effect he had sent me such conditi­ons, as he thought could not in honour refuse. That he was ready to yeild up to me all those Lands in contention, save only the small Town and Castle of Torre Necova, which standing on the other side of the River, were known ancient­ly to belong to the Dukedome of Ferrara, that if I refused these offers, he doubted not but in the end, I should have reason to repent the loss of so fair an oportunity to conclude an everlast­ing amity.

The conditions were so honourable, that it had been a dishonour in me to refuse them; so with the Herald, I returned an honourable mes­senger of my own to acquaint the Duke, that if he would be pleased to grant me an interview [Page 102] between both Armies, I doubted not but we should have occasion to free our Countries from further Alarums by concluding a firme and dura­ble league.

My messenger was honourably received, my message accepted, the interview had, and all things easily agreed upon, and thus (Noble Prince have) I in brief related to you how those warrs, which had cost the lives of so many thou­sand of our Subjects, were in few houres space by the mediation of those worthy persons, ter­minated in a happy and lasting peace, a witness whereof we are come to make your Highness, your whole Court and people.

The Grand Duke was extreamly delighted with this relation of the Duke of Mantova ut­tering forth innumerable praises in honour of the English Nation, and studying how he might honourably requi [...]e these Noble persons, who had wrought so much good in Italy, when there entred into the presence Chamber, a Gentleman of a gallant aspect, bearing upon the point of his sword the head of one, whom it appeared he had overcome.

Being come within hearing of the Duke, kneeling down he made this adress to him. Shew your self (Noble Sir) that bountiful Prince to strangers, which all the world reports you, by paying to me that debt which your Proclamation makes due to him who could bring the head of the Chaptain of Bandetties, which thus low I pre­sent to your highness feet: We should shew our selves ingrateful (answered the Duke) and much [Page 103] [...]etrogade from the honour of Soveraign Princes, should we deny you your well purchased reward; [...]ut let su s farther beg to know to what Coun­try man we owe this service. I am mighty Prince (said he) by birth an Englishman; an Englishman answered the Duke, must my Court erect then farther Trophees to the glory of that renowned Nation. Command the two Champions hither, for certainly they must be all three allied as well in blood as in their Noble actions.

A messenger quickly hastned Spencer and Goodlake into the presence, who no sooner entred were, but Ruffman, for he it was looking stedfastly upon them, and knowing them to be his dearest two friends, ran & embracing them, cried out to the Duke, most Ilustrious Prince, you now owe me nothing, to shew me this is a reward be­yond your whole Dukedome; and therewithall returned again to imbrace his friends, and they him, with so much extasie that all the presence perceived the affection was not common.

But the earnest desire Spencer had to hear some new's of his dearely beloved, whom he had lest aboard-ship with Ruffman, and bound for England; made him desire leave of the Duke to retire with his friends, which being easily gran­ted they having found out a privacy, he with great importunity demands of Ruffman what was become of his beautiful spouse, or whether he had deserted her and sent her alone for England: deserted her, (replied Ruffman) if all the Devills in Hell had conspired together they could not [Page 104] have possessed me with so much ingratitude; but pray Sir Arme your self with patience, for I have the tuthfullest story to relate that ever your ears yet heard. My constant misfortunes (answered Spencer) have been so sufficient proofs of my patience, that nothing I beleive can now shake it; the Gods grant it answered Ruffman for I fear it will else totter, when I shall tell you that the next day after you were by the unkind winds parted from us, we were thrown among the Rocks on this Coast of Florence; but escaping the furies of the Sea, ran into a greater Sea of miseries: for set upon by some bloody minded Bandetties, I was inforced by their num­ber, to permit your beantious Mistress to be snatcht away by one, whose lookes dencted rape and murther, nor was it in the power of any but a deity to rescue her; yet if she be murdered, I have at least given this satisfaction to her Ghost, to have revenged her on the villan. These words notwithstanding, his firme resolution could do no less then for present deprive the generous Spencer of his senses, to which being again by the care of his two friends revived; they began to comfort him with hopes that the Gods could not permit such an unparraleld p [...]ice of vertue and beauty to suffer such outrage, but would rather themselves descend from Heaven to her succour.

In the mean time the grand Duke thought all the entertainemnts he was forced to give to the two Princes of Ferrara and Mantua tedious, because it debarred him from giving a visit to [Page 105] his fair Mistress, whose beauty had gained such power over his heart, that all things else seemed to him but a trouble and vexation to him, night therefore approaching he hastened the two Dukes to their appartment, and that he might give the fire of his love some fewell to feed on, having selected out some trusty Musitians, he retired under the Chamber window of his Su­per-excellent guest, where he caused the ensuing Song to be sung.

The Song ended the Duke adressing himself close to the window, hoping that it might invite the Mistress of his heart to look out, but she was so overwhelmed in melancholly thoughts that she neither listned to it, nor beleived it adressed to her, which made the Duke second that first Song with this.

[Page 108]This song made her know that both this and the other were adressed to her, and that the grand Duke was the person who had taken the paines to give her this Serenad, she therefore thought her self obliged, in civility to return him some answer, at least to thank him for his profuse endeavours, but resolving first to seem not to know him; opening her Casement she roughly demanded, who it was that presuming to take upon him the person of their Prince, durst at that season of the night, presume to di­sturb her rest. I am Madam (said he) the Duke himself, come to tender the humblest of my services to you; though my forrowes (answered she) are a degree above what musick can bate, yet I must needs consess my self excessively ob­liged to your Highness, that are thus pleased to abase your self, for the entertainement of so poor a guess, beyond all the degrees of Noble Hospitality. Both I and all others (answerd the Duke) are bound to do Homage to so great beauty, and might I but hope to find love a re­ciprocal to that duty, and service that I owe your fair self, I should account me of all Princes most happy. Is it love then my Lord (answered she) that prompted you to this paines? Alas mighty Sir, how much do you debase your greatness, to cast an eye upon so mean and unworthy a person as my self, yet Noble Prince, consider and let the thoughts of my meaness restrain in you those wild desires. Thou art all goodness and all beau­ty (answered he) and that makes thee greater then I am, oh good my Lord, answered she, de­deceive*** [Page 109] not your self by thinking to gain that from me by your statteties, which all the power of men, nor Divells, shall not force from me, de­sist therefore my Lord from this enterprize, which will in the end so much dishonour you; and think not my Lord, that because you preser­ved my chastity from the villanous Bandetti, that you have any right to violate it: at these words she was going in, had not the Duke recal­led her, by saying dear Madam stay, and at least grant me this request, that your Gentlewoman may relate to me the continuance of your story that if you will not grant me your love, yet I may have liberty to admire you. In that (said she) or any thing else I may with honour, I am ready to serve your Highness and so departed.

The Duke remained inwardly vexed for his ill success, so that he could hardly rest, yet he some­what comforted himself, with hopes of the plea­sant story he was to hear next morning; & there­fore no sooner was the Sun mounted an hours course, but he sent to his fair Mistress to mind her of her promise, who immediatly sent her Gentle­woman to waite upon his Highness, who carrying her into an Arbour, fit by reason of the privacy of it, for such a purpose, she thus began.

The continuation of the story of the Magnanimous Maid.

YOur Highness having already informed me, that you have heard so farr of my Ladies story as arrived to the promise of the Moorish [Page 110] King to unite her hand (as she had already fixed her heart) with her beloved Spencer I shall not need to make a new recital of it, but proceed to what followes.

The some urgent affaires of State, rather then the present season of the year induced Mullisheg; some few daies after his Royal promise was past for the marriage of this Noble and Peerless paire of constant Lovers, to remove his Court to the famous Sea Port Town of Algiers, whe­ther induced as much by their own inclination, as the earnest desires of the Moorish King, he was accompanied by the generous Spencer and his lovely Spouse, whilst the worthy Goodlake took charge of the Frigat to carry her round by Sea to the same Port.

The grand Duke seemed to be somwhat trans­ported at the name of Goodlake, for he remembe­red that the Duke of Mantua had given the same demonstration to his Heroick Champion, which made him doubt that the other stranger who had done such famous acts on the part of Ferrara, which was the gallant Spencer, the husband of his beloved guest, but for the present smother­ing his imaginations, Maria thus continued.

Being all arrived in safty at Algiers, the Moresco King having dispatched his most im­portant affaires of State, was put in minde of his promise, to solemnize the Marriage rig hts between these two Noble Lovers, which he rea­dily assented to; himself in presence with his Queen gracing their Wedding, the cerimonies of which were performed by that English Preist [Page 111] whose life my Ladies intercession had saved, and costly banquets being prepared at the ex­pence of the Morocco treasure; there wanted no magnifience which might indeed befit the marriage of the greatest Princes.

Many daies did these Lovers, in the full en­joyment of conjugall bliss, live with all imagina­ble content in the black Kings Court, but for­tune which delights in nothing but varieties and changes, soon altred the Scene of their happiness, & overclouded all their joyes by the relapse of King Mullisheg, who again bewitched with the love of my beautious Mistress, out of hopes that he might now sooner gain his desires on her, fell back from that course of vertue which had made him glorious, and by a violent passion, sought to entrap her honour.

Nor did perverse chance think it enough, that the great Mullisheg thus deviated from all the rules of honour, but to make the misery of these two constant Lovers more compleat, the Queen of Fesse, and Morocco, a Lady of a haughty spirit and not enduring an imagined injury, whether moved out of a jealousy of her husband, or out of a reall affection, was inspired with the same un­ruly passion towards the worthy Spencer, as the King her husband was towards this lovly Bride my dear Lady. Thus did both these Princes strive to rob two of the most constant and most deser­ving souls, that ever History made mention of, of that joy and content which they had yet but enjoyed in the blossome.

The King who had most power to act, and [Page 121] indeed to force what his lust prompted him un­to, having heard some secret whispers of ouri­tention to escape his Court, and getting aboard our Ship, sayle home to England, gave order to Alcade Beigh, to cast a curious eye upon the gen­nerous Spencer, & my Lady; and if possible, not to be at any time absent from them, or at least from one of them, so that all hopes of getting away by stealth was taken away from us, for indeed some such thing had been determined of, the passion of Mullisheg, being dayly observed to in­crease more and more, and like a blazing Comet to portend some prodigious effects: Nor was that of the Lady Tota, his Queen to the worthy Spencer, utterly hid from us, though she carried it with more policy and privacy.

Our stay and my Ladies continual being in the presence of the lacivious Mullisheg, was like fire adding continual fewell to the flames of his lust, which in the end burnt so strongly, that he re­solved by one meanes or another to quench it, though by the doing of it, he forfeited all the rules of honour and hospitality, broke his word given, and murdered those guests he had sworne to preserve; yet in what manner to attempt it again he knew not, those brave and Noble, repulses he had before received from her, disheartned him from attemping it up­on her own person, he now thought it fitter to use a Proxie and therefore resolved to make the vertuous Captain Goodlake, the Baud to his lust­full desires, this determination he of all best liked, yet knew that such was the goodness of that [Page 113] person, that his very looks would force a blush from the most savag▪ Moor, should he but men­tion to him a thought so vile and unworthy, he therefore resolved to take the Roman Poets ad­vice, and write those things which his shame would not let him speak, and accordingly after having some few dayes graced the Captain, with extraordinary and unusual honours, he pri­vately delivered to him this Letter.

Heavens how was the generous Good-Lake startled at the reading of this Letter, he no soon­er came to those Words Love, and must enjoy by thy means, but tearing it in two pieces and throwing it away, cried out begone thou trea­cherous Paper, bespotted not with Ink, but with the Person of Basilikes, Aspes, and Dra­gons; Certainly, had a whole Parliament of Devils, had all the feins and furies sate together in a Synod, they could not in an age have de­vised an mischief to equal this, this wherein thousands of mischiefs are summon'd up toge­ther, to Strumpet a chast and vertuous Lady to injure him, who prizes and vallues her ho­nour far dearer then his life, to set a friend to betray his dearest friend, and rob him at once of all his joy's; To blast that name of mine, which Heaven hath hitherto preserved in the scrole o [...] the virtuous, with that ignominious reproach of Pardarisme. Could any but a Moor whose wickedness must exceed the Devils, have spur [...] so many mischiefs in one thred? But what (continued he) should he mark in me might make him think me fit to act such villanies, what could he prognosticate in this visage, that he should find there an Index to such impiou [...] Treasons? I have known this Face dart forth [...] look, has made my enemies shrink beneath it but never knew it accused into a blush for falce­ness to it's friend; Nor shall it ever in de­spite [Page 115] of perjured Mullisheg and all his Tor­ments.

Whilest he was uttering these exclamations against the Moors perfidiousness, he was in­countred by the valiant Ruffman his Lieutenant, whose looks made show of no less distractions, then those which had overshadowed the coun­tenance of the generous Goodlake, yet was the Captain about to disburthen his thoughts [...] to him, had he not been prevented by Ruffmans telling him, that he was just now come from the Queen Tota, who by threats and promises had been importunately conjuring him to Soli­cite Spencer, to grant her the enjoyment of his loves.

This Story no less confounded the generous Captain, then his Lieurenant was startled, when at his desire he took up the pieces of his torne Letter and read it, their cases being both alike, they thought fit to resolve on some course for their own safety, and the preservation of their friends honours, which whilest they were con­fusedly consulting about, they were encountred by the two loyal Lovers, who in their angry fronts could discover no less then a direful storm; the meaning of which they were as [...]nquisitive to know, as they were doubtful to believe their relation, till they were convinced by the unresistable testimony of Mullishegs Letter.

It was in vain now to let amazement take [...]lace of advice, they therefore began to con­ [...]ult how to escape this cloudy tempest, which [Page 116] hung so threatningly over their heads, but in a business of so great consequence their opinions were confused, and indeed they knew not what to do, till my magnanimous Mistress turning to her beloved Spencer, (and Women they say have the sharpest wits in such exigencies) My dear Friend, said She, desperate diseases must have desperate cures, there remains no way to escape the violent lust and fury of the Moorish King and Queen, but by a violent hazarding our own lives: Yet before we come to make use of force, we must work with disimulation; you my dear Soul said I must learn to counter feit an affection to the Queen, whilest I seem to smile upon the lacivious King, and doubt not but we shall in short time find a means to escape: the effecting of which, we must leave to the wisdom, courage, and sole Management of these two their Agents, who I know by sound ex­perience will not fear death it self, for our safety.

They all seemed to applaud her Counsel, but because the place was somewhat too publique for such a debate, they retired to a greater pri­vacy, where they at large consulted of what they resolved, afterwards to put in execution when opportunity should offer it self.

Nor was it longer the importunity of Mul­lisheg forced them to anticipate even their own thoughts; For he thinking that Goodlake dallyed with him, with open Threats injoyned him to effect his purpose, or expect the effects of his fury, nor was the Queen less impatient to have [Page 117] her Lascivious thoughts satisfied by the noble Spencer, which made these two worthy friends resolve now to use their utmost art and power, for the delivery of those two loyal Lovers.

Goodlake in the first place, therefore desires the King that an appartment might be of pur­pose appointed, as a thing necessary for the bringing his desires to pass, withall assuring him that he had gained the absolute consent of my beautous Mistress, to entertain him in her em­braces, the night following; but that she desi­red that to cover her blushes, that he would be pleased to approach her in the dark, when she would not fail to entertain his Majesty with the greatest caresses of love. In the mean time, Ruffman had acquainted the Queen, that by reason of the suddain change of Lodgings, where with the two Lovers were yet unacquaint­ed, he would bring her Majesty into the Cham­ber, where she should all night lye linked in the Arms of the generous Spencer, and he receive her as his beloved Bride.

This lascicious pair were both highly conten­ted, in the expectation of their next nights en­joyment, which being approached, Ruffman silently conducts the Queen into the Chamber, where the King expected to find his beauteo [...]s Guest; and she being disrobed, and lying [...] ­pecting the renowned Spencer; the King [...] by Goodlake conducted in thither, who [...] means satisfied them with an [...] [...]faction of their desires, and yet [...] bodies chast.

[Page 118]These two thus lodged there, yet remained the hardest part to act to avert the dependent Tragedy; The curious eyes of Alcade-Beigh like those of another Argo's, still waited so exactly upon the generous Spencer, or upon his fair Bride, that it was impossible for them to pass the gates together; nor could the worthy Spencer at first perswade my lovely Mistress to leave him to his better starrs, and go with Cap­tain Goodlake, Ruffman, and the rest, to secure her own Person: But at length overpowred with Arguments, That it must be the only way to procure all their safeties, she vowing, that if by the next morning he came not safe aboard­ship, she accounting him slain, would assuredly follow him in death; consented to go.

Captain Goodlake having got the Kings privy Signet, and the Military Word, for that night, under pretence of passing up and down from lodging to lodging for the better accomodating of the lustful Mullisheg, with my fair Lady, we easily with them passed the Court Gates, and so securely to the Sea-side, where we found a worthy Gentleman Mr. Forcet, with the Boat well-manned and armed, ready to waft us aboard whether being happily come, our selves we hastned it back, in hopes it might return laden with the generous Spencer, whose pre­sence we now only wanted.

But long did we in vain expect, what we so earnestly desired, and much longer it seemed, by how much more we did desire it; for after our departure, the noble Spencer found himself [Page 119] so haunted by Alcade-Beigh, that he could not possibly pass any venny of the Court, which so enraged him, that he was once resolved with the suddain death of the Beigh, to rid himself of so burdensome a Companion, but the great danger in this, having for sometime restrained him, he at length thought of a slight which much better served his purpose, for knowing that Alcade-Beigh was not ignorant, that the King his Master had lately attempted alwayes possible to enjoy his lovely Guest, and that he had the promises of Goodlake to effect it; he re­solved to dissemble a passion, as if he then really had her in his lustful embraces. The Beigh who had heard him utter somewhat to this pur­pose, not only left him to his own guard, but freely proffered him passage through the Court Gates; Fondly imagining that his absence would make the King rest more securely with his Spouse.

But Spencer being passed those Gates, there yet attended him a more unluckly fate, for missing his way to the Sea on that side the Town, where our Boat waited for him, he un­advisedly ran upon the other, which lying open to a small Cittadel, ingarrisoned by Spaniards, not far distant, makes the Moors constantly keep a strong Guard, both of Horse and Foot there; a party of about forty Foot were usually set up­on a Bridge, not above two hundred paces from the Town, amongst these Spencers unhappy stars first led him, by whom he was commanded to stand, and show a reason of his being there [Page 120] so late; but he now first sensible of his error, would have returned without returning any an­swer, which they perceiving about eight or ten in number swiftly pursued him, who was resol­ved upon no conditions to yield himself Priso­ner; and therefore with his Sword in his hand turned upon them, resolving dearly to sacrifice his Life, or to force a passage through them to his Spouse.

But the slaughter of half of that number, which first pursued this thrice valliant Hero, making the remaining part to cry out for more assitance, the whole Guard was allarum'd and great numbers both of Horse and Foot came thunding in upon this single Gallant, who yet endeavoured to make an obstinate resistance; several of the faint-hearted Moors being forced to fall under the power of his revengeful arm, in the presence of their Captain Ioffer-Bassa who stood admiring at the noble courage of this Person, whom yet he knew not. But at length encompassed on all sides, the worthy Spencer wearied with dealing wounds, was surprized by his enemies.

But he was yet happy in being thus a Prisoner, for being brought before Ioffer-Bassa, a Person truly generous; he was accosted by him with all possible civility; the Bassa as if he had been bred in civil Europe, and nor in barba [...]ous Afri­ca, Telling him, that though he could not but wonder at his noble deeds, yet he must be in­fore'd to perform the office of a Subject, by keeping him his Prisoner, though he could ra­ther [Page 121] have wish't fortune to have laid open some way for his escape, and not rendred him a Cap­tive to him, who could only love and honour him, but not help him: By this nobleness (answered Spencer) I am confirmed you are Ioffer, chief Bashaw to the Great Mullisheg, whom I have alwayes found full of worthy and gallant thoughts. And I now know you an­swered the Bassa, for that brave Englishman, so highly graced in the Court of the mighty King of Fesse and Morocco; My Master, which makes me the more admire, that in requital of his fa­vours you should thus slaughter his beloved Subjects, by which you have made a double forfeit of your life; for the outrage committed against his Guard at the dead of night, is death in it self; but those you have slain in the conflict, makes it exceed all bounds of Pardon; For death, answered the Gallant Spencer, it does not at all trouble me; but I have some private thoughts torment me, more then ten thousand tortures could; and herewith this brave Soul fetching a sigh, could not restrain some tears, which the thoughts of his beloved Spouse made gush out. When the noble Bassa seeing his discomposure, commanded the Guard to depart, and leave the Prisoner alone with him.

The Guard readily obeyed the command of their General, when he taking opportunity from the Solitude addressed himself to his Pri­soner in these generous terms; Sir, (said he) though I am a Moor, a Nation strange to you [Page 122] Christians; yet, think that I can be noble; but in you I have observed such strange contrarie­ties, that I cannot tell well how to reconcile them; for when I consider your mighty actions and late greatness of your Spirit, when my men flew before you like dust before the wind, I cannot but admire at your present passion, and justly wonder why such a small effuse of blood, let out by these sleight wounds, or the pale-fear of grisly death should draw a tear for such a No­ble eye; Thou most worthy of thy Nation (replyed Spencer) do not so much mistake me, to think that wounds, blood, death, or all tortures imaginable, could force one drop from hence; but that I now suffer under, as far exceeds all torments that ever the wicked art, or wit of Man invented, as Hell doth Heaven in pains. This it is, that like the burning Sun extracts from my declining Soul, this dewy and effemi­nate morsture: Sir, (answered the Bassa) if I have yet gained in you an opinion, that I dare be noble, impart to me your sorrow's, and if any thing in my power can assist you, though it be with the hazard of my life, rest assured I will perform it. Your Nobleness most Illustrious Bassa (answered Spencer) obliges me to relate my misfortune, though I must despair of reme­dy; yet if you have a heart not wholly compo­sed of Adamant, it must needs melt it, to con­sider my misery; and think then Sir, if you have ever loved, or if ever you loved one so fair, so constant, so chast, as my dear Spouse; whe­ther it would not confound you, and make [Page 123] whole Oceans of tears flow from your eyes, to know that for your sake she was betrayed to a black and remediless-fate? I confess (answer­red the Bassa) It would perplex a well-blassed Soul; but how can this be your condition? were not all your joy's but lately consummate, by uniting your Souls, according to your own manner of marriage, and were you not but yesterday both honoured in the highest degree, by the vertuous Mullisheg? 'Tis true, worthy Bassa, (replyed Spencer) he honoured us at first too much, but at length his lust outway'd his honour, and as if his Soul had been of a darker Eye then his Face; he sought to take away that he had given me, and rob me of that Jewel 1 prize far above my Life; but the fates were yet happy unto me, in that I found means this night to convey my beauteous Spouse, the Captain, and Lieutenant, and others aboard Ship, and now my self intended to follow them, but missing my way fell amongst your Guard, where wonder not that I performed wonders, and durst single oppose my self against your multitudes; for it was the impression she had left upon my heart, made me act things be­yond a man. But Sir, (replyed Ioffer) since she is safe aboard, recal your noble spirits, and let not your own fates thus distract you. Ah! generous Sir, (said Spencer) the sting of all is yet behind, I at her parting from me, swore by the honour of a Gentleman, and by all the vow's and loves had ever past between us, that if I survived, I would visit her aboard before [Page 124] the morning Star appeared, which she seconded with a solemn vow, that if I did not she should certainly esteem me dead, and not Heaven it self should hinder her from following me to the Grave, This Great Bassa is it; Fear of her safe­ty not my own, that drew these tears from a Souldiers eyes. 'Twas strange what noble pitty this relation bred in the heart of the thrice worthy Moor: Noble Sir, said he, you have indeed told me story would move the very Rocks to pitty, and that I may let you know, all moral virtues are not wholly and only seated in the hearts of Christians; Go freely, pass to your Love and preserve her Life, I will not de­sire you to return, but if you do not remember, this Head of mine goes in exchange for yours, which I cannot lay down in a better service. My worthy Lord was so startled at this high generosity of the Moors, that he knew not what answer to return, nor indeed how to accept his so obliging proffer; but at length considering it would be the preservation of his dearest Spouse, he resolved not to refuse the Courtesy, but withall desiring the Bassa to oblige him by some solemn Oath, to return at an appointed hour: No, (replyed Ioffer) it will be sufficient, if you give me your word to return by that time to morrow, that the Sun shall be mounted to the Meridian: Let God's and Men (an­swered Spencer) conspire to make me miser­able if I fail one Minute; Let me then conduct you, said the Bassa, past all watches, and there­withal himself in Person brought him to the [Page 125] place where the Boat did attend him, who re­ceived him with an inexpressible joy.

The Discourse between the Bassa and Spen­cer had spent the greatest part of the night; so that before they arrived at the Boat, it was near break of day, and before any discovery could be made of them coming towards the Ship, day was absolutely broke, and the Sun even ready to advance it's head above the Cerulean Con­fines. My dear Lady, with infinite impatience had all this while expected the coming of her Spencer, according to his promise; but finding him not yet appear, concluding him dead; she began to utter such miserable lamentations as are impossible for me to recite; and calling for an Hour-glass, resolved as soon as that poor moment of time was spent, either to be­hold her dear Spencer safe, or follow him in death.

The last minutes were now running, when with a full mouth of joy one of the say lors calls from the Topmast-head that the Boat was coming towards us, and that he did plainly discern the generous Spencer sitting in her stern; 't was my good fortune to carry this news first to my Mistress, who entertained it with such a rapture, that her joy now put her into no less an extasie then her grief before had done; but having past over that discomposure, which at her first hearing these glad tidings had seized her, she issued out of her Cabbin to entertain her Spencer, with a joy suitable to the love she bore him,

[Page 126]'Tis impossible for me (mighty Prince) to tell you with what joyful, and what obliging ex­pressions she entertained him aboard; but how soon was all her joy turned into a super-abun­dant sorrow; for he having a great while listned to her loving expressions, without having re­turned any answer, at length to her earnest in­treaties, gave this fatal one? Alas! my dear Soul, now I have seen thee, I must again leave thee: These Words were like a Thunderbolt, which almost before their noise was heard, be­reft my dear Lady of her senses, who fell en­tranced at the feet of her beloved Spouse, but our art and care soon recovered her, at which she seemed somewhat displeased, crying out: Wherfore do you in vain endeavour to ruin me, for if that Tongue that gave the wound do not again give present cure, not all Esculapius his art can reprieve me from death. Alas! my dear Love (said Spencer) arm your self with patience since I must depart, and endeavour not to make me forfeit by our passion, my own and my Countries honour, the Faith and Re­putation of a Christian all which are pawn'd for my return. What will the Moors say? and how justly may they say, That we that are Christians make great boast of Faith, but they alone do honourable good and vertuous works.

My Mistress, and indeed all of us sate in a manner intranced to hear Spencers Resolution, and a dull silence had invaded us all, till Cap­tain Goodlake brake it by telling him, That he [Page 127] would do well to loose us from that labyrinth of doubts, wherein his discourse had involved us by a plain discovery of the reasons, that moved him to this Resolution to return: I am con­tent, answered Spencer, and there withal rela­ted what I have already told your Highness, happened between him and Ioffer Bassa, con­cluding that if he should leave the life of so generous a Person, to be sacrified to the fury of the Moorish King, he should for ever be a Scandal to virtue and goodness; I must confess (answered Goodlake) 't was nobly done of the Moor; but what is the Laws of twenty thou­sand of those Infidels, to one that is a Chri­stian: You have now (said he) Liberty and free way to your Country, and will you refuse to take the advantage, that Heaven has lent you? But as if you scorned their gracious boun­ty, betray both your self and us to voluntary death, or bondage; leave, leave Sir, this fond Resolution, and let us make use of this pro­sperous Gale, which so Smilingly invites us to Sea. These Arguments were seconded by Ruffman, and my dear Mistress, withal the perswasions their desires could furnish them with; My Lady clasping her Arms about the Neck of her beloved Spencer, and crying out, Oh Sir! do you now then prize my love no better, then to rate it beneath the friendship of a Barbarous Moor, or can you to save him, betray and leave me to an assured death? Can you thus reward the Pains and Travels I have undergone for your sake; Alas! (said the [Page 128] generous Spencer) do not thus torment me, I must and will praise my Honour, and the Faith, and Reputation of a Christian, above whatever the Earth can yield: Shall Fesse report here­after, to the shame and disgrace of Ours, and all other Countries of Christendom, to the scandal and ignominy of our Faith and Religi­on, tht a barbarous Moor should exceed us in Nobleness and Gallantry, No! I will first ten thousand times Sacrifice this Life, rather then make so great a so feit. In summe, when no­thing could prevail to procure his stay, we were inforced with patience to suffer his depar­ture.

But to return to the King whom we left lasciviously stealing embraces from his own Queen; so strongly had imagination wrought with him, that he really believed he had all that night clasped in his Arms my fair and bea [...]to is Mistress, and so great was the plea­sure, which he thought he had enjoyed, that having according to agreement stoln from her before day, his impatient bosome not able to smother his super-abundant joy, communicates it to Alcade Beigh who very confidently affirms that he had had [...] h [...]lping hand in that nights pleasure; for he had by a cunning device got Spencer by his own consent out of the Court Gares, and commanded that neither money no [...] intreaties should prevail [...]r his re-entrance, least by some suspitio [...]s jealousies, he should be emboldened to disturb his Majesties rest; The King in requital of his care for the furtherance [Page 129] of his delights; presently made him one of his Councel, and withal promised farther not to forget his diligence.

But after so great a Calm, Storms usually [...]ollow; whilest the King was thus priming him­self in his delights, a Messenger came hastily in, and kneeling down, desired his Majesty not to [...]e offended, if he brought him news that he [...]eared would displease him; Whatever it be answered the King, it cannot sowre this nights [...]weetness, therefore speak it boldly: Know [...]hen Mighty Sir, (continued the Messenger,) That by virtue of your Royal Signet the En­glish Lady with the Captain and Lieutenant are his night past the Court Gates, and are safely [...] ot aboard their Negro: away, away, cried [...]he King, thou art deceived; Go see Alcade, [...]or we left her but now sleeping on our Royal [...]ed: What I affirm answered the Messenger, [...]swear by my Head to your Majesty, is most [...]ue; else let my Life answer my presumption. [...]or did the King doubt it to be so, when Al­ [...]de returned, and told him that there was in [...]e Bed neither English Lady nor any Lady else, [...]or the Queen as soon as the King had left her [...]as retired into her own appartment: pleased [...]ewise with the imagination, that she had en­ [...]yed the generous Spencer.

The King was extreamly enraged at this news, [...]d the more because he believed the Captain [...]d betrayed some dissolute common Strumpe [...] [...] his Bed, but his fury was much increased [Page 130] when he was informed by a second Messenger, that Spencer being left behind, had without the Word or Signet passed the Gates, 'Tis most true, Answered the King, and thou Trayterous Villan (said he, turning to Al­cade Beigh) that hast been a Sharer and Con­spirer with these English to rob us of our Je­wells and Treasure, shalt as sure as we are King of Fesse and Morrocco pay the forfeit of thy Treacherous Head. Alas! Dread Soveraign, (answered the Beigh) 't was willingness to do you Service, which made me commit this Error: Villain, said Mullisheg, thou lyest▪ 't was bribes; therefore dispute no more, but let our Guard load him with Irons, and turning to the Messenger, but is Spencer then escaped, said he? No dread King (said he) for though at the Bridge with his Gyant-like blow's, he sent several of your Majesties Sub­jects to their graves; yet when by a lou [...] Alarm we called the whole Watch to ou [...] assistance, he was forced to yield to our Num­bers, and is at present Prisoner to the Grea [...] Ioffer Bassa. 'Tis well then, answered th [...] King, for upon him will we revenge all our in­juries, go said he to his attending Guard, com­mand our Bassa to bring him, overpressed wit [...] Irons to our Royal Presence.

The Kings have alwayes some suc [...] attending sycophant about them, wh [...] like dull Angels are ready to assist upo [...] [Page 131] all bad occasions, The Messenger that went to command Ioffer Bassa to produce his Prisoner, fled with a too officious speed, for there wanted yet several hours to the time of the promised re­turn of Spencer, and the Bassa knew that the Kings fury was like an unresistable torrent that would brook no delay; However he nobly resolved to go into the Presence, and if nothing else could appease the Kings anger, freely lay down his Life for our safety; but with all dispatcht, a speedy Messenger to the Ship to tell us that we might now safely [...]ail away, but Spencers meeting him pre­vented his coming.

The Bassa being come before the King, he with a frown which sufficiently de­noted his inward passion, demanded of him how he durst, when he had sent his expresse Command that he should pro­duce his Pri [...]soner, come without him. Mighty King, answered the Bassa, had you with me beheld his unparrarel'd Prowess, and withal seen his passions, you would like me pitty these disasters, wherein his unhappy Stars have invol­ved [Page 132] him, Insolent Villain (replyed Mul­lisheg) presumest thou to prescribe us Rules, we will know no pitty for an in­jury of so high a Nature, and more then our revenge we have vow'd his death; therefore go fetch him forth. Let me at least (replied the Bassa) for all the services I have done you, beg of your Majesty to spare him but some few hours; still darest thou (said the King) Capitulate with us, we tell thee once more that the least delay is death; Then know mighty Prince (said Ioffer) That he was my Prisoner, and is so still by promise, for I presuming that such No­ble vallour could not be lodged alone without those other virtues; Faith and Honour gave him free liberty to go to his Ship, only upon his promise to return before the Sun felt any declension to­wards the West; Nor do I yet doubt, but your Majesty will find that Noble­ness in him which I have presumed. Foolish Bassa, said the King, thus to jeast away thy own Life, but jest thou didst not, you are all Conspirators a­gainst me, and by Mahomet shall all [Page 133] receive the rewards of your Treachery; Could'st thou think that a Stranger so remote both in Country and Religion, being imbarqued at Sea free from our hands, and in the embraces of his sweet and lovely Bride, His Captain and Sai­lors all aboard, and fortune it self sup­plying him with a fair and prosperous Gale, would expose all these to volun­tary dangers, and himself to a certain death, only for a verbal promise? At least let your Majesty (replied the Bassa) grant me Life but till the hour be past, and if he comes not, I shall willingly embrace death, and glory that though a Moor, I have excceded a Christian in Nobleness. No fon [...] Fool (replyed the Moorish King) thou shalt not live a Minute, and therewith gave present order to his Guard to see him put to Death.

Just were the Executioners laying hands upon the Worthy and Renowned Bassa, when Spencer who had made all possible hast to Land, entered with his own Life to save that of the generous Moor; his presence struck such amaza­ment [Page 134] into the Great Mullisheg, that con­founded with the Gallantry of the Acti­on, he sat for a good space as one intran­ced, during which time the Bassa em­bracing the generous Spencer with tears in his Eyes, told him, that he was now sorry he had made him promise to a re­turn; for he had thereby deprived him­self of a fame which would have lasted longer then any Ma [...]solean Monument, and that he rather wished that he had broke his Word, that he might have died for so Noble a Person, for now said he to redeem a Life which I could wil­lingly have Sacrified in so glorious a Cause, you come to an assured Death. And it is that I come for (said the gene­rous Spencer,) And to force the King your Master, though he takes away my Life, yet confess me honourable.

Whilst these and some other Discour­ses to that purpose passed between those two Noble Spirits, the King recollecting himself, Commanded Spencer to be brought before him, And with a Tyran­nical fier [...]eness told him, That he had misprizing all his gracious favours vio­lated [Page 135] his Laws, infringed the Peace of his Country, Allarm'd his Watch by Night, slain several of his Subjects; and lastly, having Rob'd him of infinite Trea­sure had stoln to Sea, by every Circum­stance of which he had made a forfeit of his Life, which all the Riches of Europe should not Redeem; I confess (replied Spencer, with an undaunted courage) that I have done all thou chargest me with, save only the stealing thy Treasure, which though I could not do, because thou gavest it; yet finding thee unworthy in thy intentions towards us, I scorn'd to take with me that which would have been the price of my dishonour, & there­fore of all thy Gold and Jewels would not permit one dram to be unbarqued; as for that Death thou threatnest, know proud Mullisheg, I am glad I owe thee nothing, but what I have in my ability to pay, if my Life be forfeit in taking it, thou takest nothing but what I came pur­posely hither to tender. Art thou so re­solute (answered Mullisheg) however out of pitty to thee, we will yet propose thee one way to save thy Life, nor any other [Page 136] way [...]ast thou to effect it, send then to thy Ship and surrender up to me the Captain and thy fair Spouse, or otherwise by all the Rights of our Holy Prophet thou shalt not live an hour. Dishonourable Tyrant (replied Spencer) know that I so much despise both thee and thy Tyran­ny, that were there on one side all the Tortures that either Turks or Devils ever invented, threatned to be inflicted on me; and on the other side, wert thou Commander over all the Kingdoms of the Earth, and should lay at my Feet all their Crowns and Scepters, and make me Monarch of the whole Universe; rather then yield up the basest of my Ship-Boyes to become thy slave, much less be­tray my Spouse to thee and to thy brui­tish just, I would endure ten thousand Deaths; and so thou shalt (cried Mul­lisheg) prepare to torture him.

At that Word my Lady (attended by the Captain, Lieutenant Forcet, and my self, who never had forsaken her) ha­ving followed her beloved Spencer, with a full resolution to die with him, or for him; entred the Presence, and falling [Page 137] down on her knees before the Moorish King; Behold cruel Mullisheg, said she, if thou dost delight in blood, but spare that of my beloved Spencer; and in it's stead I here present thee mine, and those of all my Train, to make a flood instead of his small Rivulet: The generous Spencer was extreamly distracted at our suddain ap­pearance, and turning to us, all you have wronged me (said he) above injury, and how sufficiently to express my just anger, I know not, for in you I die ten thousand Deaths, that could otherwise have tasted but one; and then turning to the Moor: Mighty King, said he, show your self at least to have somewhat of humanity, by dismissing these to their Ship, and since my Life is only forfeit, take but that, and at my Death, I shall proclaim you merciful. Oh! no great King (said my Magnamous Lady,) It were injustice & not mercy to take his Life, and spare mine, since what he did was only for my sake and safety; or if he have committed any fault (said we altogether) let all our lives serve as so many victimes to expiate his Crime, and appease your anger. [Page 138] Alas! you need not plead for death, (re­plied Mullisheg) you shall all assuredly die, but especially you treacherous Cap­tain, on whom I will execute such a re­venge as shall make future generations to read it: I came not hither great King (said Goodlake) to be daunted with your threats, but freely to offer my Life (who am only guilty) to redeem my friends, take then this Body and tear it in pieces with the most exquisite Tortures that the Savagest Barbarians did ever invent? and spare but the rest, I shall endure them contentedly. Thou shalt not doubt it, replied the Moor; but villain said he, what infamous Strumpet was it that thou be­trayedst to our Royal Bed. For that Mighty King (said the Queen, who as well by the several Circumstances, as by Ruffmans Information was confirmed, she that night enjoyed the King) I must with your pardon excuse him; for having had private advice of your designs, I wrought him to my purpose; nor was it any other then my self whom you last night em­braced.

The King was visibly seen to abate [Page 139] somewhat of his fury at this relation of the Queens, and began to consider that the action in the whole contexture of it was honourable, that he had endeavour­ed to do wrong, but had not been wrong­ed; That his lust had led into a road of evil actions, where he was riding with a Carrier, to the loss of that fame which had once proclaimed him good and just, that it was time for him now to stop, which he resolved to do, and therefore with a smiling countenance looking to­wards us, he with a generous passion cried out, shall lust then still have the prevalency over me? or shall all those virtuous deeds, for which I have been so long renowned in Fesse be utterly exiled, shall the Christans still have the honour to be sole heirs to goodness, and we Moors barbarous and bloody. No (said he rising up from his Throne, and taking my Lady by the hand) renowned En­glish-woman, I once more give thee back to thy Husband, and if he think it no dis­honour, beg him again to accept of our grace and favour, and in recompence of those wrongs we endeavoured to do him, [Page 140] render we will thee such an ample Dower as shall renown our bounty, pro­vided we may but procure your Par­don.

Thus was all our sorrow turned into suddain joy, the worthy Captain Goodlake was by the King prised amongst the Chiefest of his favourites, for his faith to him, Zeal to the Queen, and constan­cy to his Friends, the generous Ioffer Bassa for his Nobleness to the renowned Spen­cer, was by the King created Vice-Roy of Argiers; but Alcade Beigh, though he was released from Prison, yet was ba­nished from Court, as a Person who had encouraged and fomented.

Yet for all this, we had some reasons to fear that Mullisheg would again fall into a Relapse, which made the Noble Spencer earnestly and frequently desire his leave to visit his own Country; and he at length being no longer able to deny him, yielded to his Request; and loading our Ship with the Richest Commodities his Kingdom afforded, Himself accom­panied us aboard, where after some dayes magnificent Feasting he left us, [Page 141] and we took leave of the Barbary Shore.

But the fame of our great Riches was gone before us into most parts of Chri­stendom, which had made many Pirates come out on purpose, in hopes to make us their pray; two dayes after we had been at Sea, we espyed a great Sail, which made directly towards us; nor would we seeing but one Ship alter our Course; or with addition of Sails endeavour to fly from her, so she came easily up to us, and by the roughness of her salute, (for she immediately powred into us a whole broad-side) gave us to understand what she was, and for what intent she came.

We had before provided our selves for resistance, and so soon returned her courtesy in the same roaring terms; she had first spoke to us in, but she relying upon the number of her men, thought it more advantagious to close with us, then to fight at distance, which made them twice resolutely board us, but were both times most couragiously beaten off by the vallour of the renowned Spencer, Good­lake, Ruffman, and Forcet, and at length [Page 142] so discouraged that Spencer and Goodlake hoping to make a Prize of their Assai­lers, armed with their Swords and Tar­gets leaped aboard the French Pirat, (for of that Nation it was,) that before any could follow to their assistance, the ships were by a suddain Storm severed, nor could we withall our art or endeavours again reach the French Ship.

I need not tell your Highness what lamentations my Lady made, to be so strangely and suddenly deprived (as she had just cause to fear for ever) of her worthy Husband. Your Highness hath seen some effects of her grief, as well as been informed how that some Storm cast us upon your Coast, where after we had escaped the dangers of the Seas, we fell into the hands of the Bandetties, where we had like to have been robbed of our honour, a Jewel we prized far above any the Sea had devoured, had not your Highness rescued us. Here Maria ended, and the Duke seemed very much affect­ed with the Story; but he was inwardly displeased at Spencers being in his Court, (for he was confirmed by many circum­stances [Page 143] it was he,) fearing least his dis­covery should wholly obstruct his love; he therefore resolved to Cloyster up his fair Guest, in the most private part of his Palace; but this being no time to consult what to do, having presented Maria a Jewel in recompence of her trouble, and sent by her all commends to his Mistress; He went to entertain the two Dukes of Mantua, and Ferrara who expected him.

THE HISTORY Of the Famous JOFFER BASSA.

AFter I was (said he with the tears almost gushing out of his eyes) by my fathers too much provoked anger banished out of his sight, and wholy dis-inherited of his Estate, armed with disdain, and dispair, (the last a plague and punishment incident to rebellions against Parents) I resolved to go seek that fortune in other Countries, which his just resentments had denied me in my own; and indeed shame as well as necessity enforced me to take this course, for I had not onely tired out my fathers patience, but all those friends whom I had too often imployed to make my peace with him. Gathering therefore up some few debts, which my riot had before scattered amongst my dissolute companions, I embarqued my self upon a ship bound for Civita Vechia, the chief Port-Town of the Papacy towards the Tyrhene Sea; [Page 162] intending to finde my self imployment in those Wars, which had some time before broken out between the Church, and your Highness renown­ed father, Cosino de Medices, Grand Duke of Tuscany.

But as if Fortune now having me in her clutches, had resolved to inflict a punishment upon me, equal to my former miscarriages; we were no sooner past the Streits of Gibralter, and sailing thence with a prosperous gale towards out intended Ports, but we espied three Turkish Men-of-war, belonging to the King of Tunis who gave chase to our poor Ba que: 'tis true we could see little hopes in making any resistance, yet the fear I had to be a slave, and the cer­tainty I was in never to be redeemed, made me encourage the Captain to fight; but no argu­ments of mine, or desires of many of his Sea­men, could make his coward minde admit with­in it any other tearms but those of yielding▪ vainly imagining that either his ransom would be less, or his usage better, from those Barbarians▪ if he basely submitted, then if he bravely stoo [...] it out.

But the major part resolving to fight, and like generous souls, being willing rather to en­dure death then slavery, we resolved that since our Captain would not be perswaded to combate them, either to force him to it, or secure him▪ the last of which we had scarcely finished to do▪ and put our selves in order, but the first of the Pirates came up to us, and having given us rough salute, presently clapt us aboard; bu [...] [Page 163] such was our resolution, that before either of the other two could come up to us, we had twice beaten them off our decks, and were ready to enter theirs, and in all probability to have made a Prize of those who endeavored to prey upon us, when we were prevented by the furi­ous assault of the second of the Pirates, a ship of greater force then the first that had a [...]tacqued us, yet we for some time likewise obstinately defended our selves against them, till the third coming up to their assistance, we were con­strained to yield to their power and numbers.

Nothing could be more grievous to me then thus to become a slave, yet my adverse fates would not admit me to prevent it; for I once endeavored to have pierced my own heart with my Poynard, but was hindred by the covetous Turks, who intended to make money of my person, and the very thought of being to be sold in the market like a bruit beast, made me so desperate, that I should have accounted the blood of Asps and Vipers, to have been a healing and sanative potion.

But of all means of freeing my self from sla­pery by a voluntary death, I was deprived by being closely chained up amongst the rest be­tween the hatches, and so close were we toge­ther, that if we had strove to finde out a death, it must have been no other then the knocking of our brains out one against another; but that which somewhat comforted me, was to see our coward Captain in as bad condition as my self, or indeed worse if possible could be, for [Page 164] he being placed in the midst of us was forced, endured not onely the reproaches, but the buf­fers of his own men for his cowardize; five days continued we in this condition, fed with no­thing but a few scraps of bisquet, and stinking water, which made me with tears begin to be­think my self of that good and noble condition, out of which I had by my own folly and wilful­ness thrown my self.

Being arrived at Tunis, we were immediately carried on shore, and with our chains about our legs, brought into the publique Bazar, where it was my fortune to be sold to an old Beldam, who employed me in nothing else but to fetch her water, scoure her dishes, and other the most servile drudgery, being continually sub­ject to the flouts, mocks, and blows, of her im­perious son; who had so much incensed me, that I once resolved to have executed a severe revenge upon him long before I did it, and thereby with the enduring of a little torture, to have freed my self from a lasting misery, for I could imagine no way to escape, but my stars had yet for me in store a better fate, and intended to punish me, not to destroy me; for so it hap­pened, that my Beldame had some time before me bought into her house to do her private ser­vice, a little female Jew, with whom in short time I had grown so familiar, that I could dis­cern in her some love towards me, for she would often assist me in performing those servile works which were daily imposed; and many times would we sit together seriously lamenting our [Page 165] misfortunes, and belching out curses against our young Patron, who was equally insolent to both.

One day as I was brushing and cleansing some of Osmans clothes, for so was the old womans son called, she came to me all bloody and la­mentably crying, she sat down in a most melan­choly desperate posture by me, I need not ask her from whence her affliction derived, for I had often my self had experience of it; but turning to her, must we always, said I, be inslaved to this misery, and be subject to the insolencies of this yound dog, without revenge? That word revenge, revived her out of her pensive drow­sinesses: If thou canst be faithful, said she, and hast but valor enough to effect it, let me alone to invent a way for both our escapes. It is im­possible, replied I, that ever we can pass the Ports. It is true, answered she, as we are it is, but I have an Art to compose a Juyce, which shall turn us in two houres space more black then the Sun-burnt Ethiopians, by which means we shall escape the fury of our Patroness, and certainly we cannot fall into deeper miseries, then are now overwhelmed. Do but that, said I, and assure your self of a full revenge. But thou shalt first promise me, (said Iosina, for so she was called) thet thou wilt not forsake me, for, said she, (rising up and embracing me) though I am like thee a slave here, yet I am of noble Ex­tract, nor has my beauty, except my friends, and those of my own Nation, flattered me, been ac­counted despicable; nor indeed was it, for she [Page 166] was admirable fair, and had she not been so, I was willing to embrace any thing to procure my liberty; so I swore to her by all Oaths imagina­ble, that I would never leave her: she now felt not her blows, which had before half slain her, but nimbly went about to provide the promised Juyce, which I had not faith enough to credit, till I had found by experience, that being easily laid on it, turned out skins to a Mauri [...]anian hew, and that nothing but Wine Vinegar could remove it; she having thus performed her part, she pressed me to act mine, which I had within three days opportunity given me to do, for the old Beldam having sent me to fetch her some water from a Spring about two miles off, for her own drinking, I in my way encountred Osman, who far from his usual maner, began fa­mi [...]iarly to discourse with me, and accompanied me as far as the Wels; this strange alteration of his, had almost made me alter my purpose, but knowing it was at present but feigned, and would break out afterwards into greater storms, I resolved to execute it, and hopes of gaining my liberty, giving a double strength to my arm, I stept unto him, and snatching out his sword, and withall turning of his Turban [...], without giving him leave to speak, at one blow I stroke him to the ground, assured of his ever rising again till the day of Judgement.

My revenge thus happily effected, I covered his body slightly with sand, and thrusting his Scimitar under my slaves coat, hastened home with my water, which having delivered to my [Page 167] old patroness, I made as much haste to acquaint Iosina with what I had done, and showing her the [...]word as a testimony of it, she so rejoyced as I cannot tell well how to express, the night drew on which was propitious to our designs, for he using seldom to come home, was not at all search't for, and we had the opportunity by the privacy of it to colour our selves, which we soon effected, each mutually helping each other, though with as much modesty as we could: I confess it grieved me to lay that black hue upon her white and angel like skin; but the remem­brance of liberty made all things sweet. About two hours before day, we issued out of the old Beldams house, taking all the moneys we could finde in it, but not medling with any thing else lest it should betray us; and both of us speaking the language well, we came into a Cane or Inne in the town, as travellers newly come out of the country, which we might well do so early in the morning, it being the custom of those countries to travel altogether by night.

To remove suspect, though it was impossible for any one to know us, according to the usual manner, we no sooner came into the Inn, but we laid our selves down to repose, both in one Chamber, but at a modest distance, but scarce had we slept three hours, but we were awakened by the noyse in the Inn, made by the Officers of Justice come in search of us; we were about to rise, and be as inquisitive as others what the business was, but as we were about to do so, the Officers entred our Chamber, and seeing none [Page 168] but us two Blacks, as they supposed, as soon de­parted; we asked some Moors what the matter was? Who told us, that Osman Chellabee was murthered by his mothers slaves, who being fled upon it, they were now in search of them.

All things being again quieted in that Cane, and the Officers gone to search in some other, we called for some repast, and were very jocund­ly merry at our so cleanly escape; but in the middest of our mirth, it was, I cannot tell whe­ther our good or ill fortune to remember, that we had left our spunges with a bowl of the juice which had dyed our skins at home, and though we imagined, that at first sight they could not tell what to make of it, yet we thought some ac­cident might discover for what intention it was: This suddainly changed all our mirth into sad­ness, we could not a good while resolve what to do; but at length our own safety prompted us immediately to leave the town before our arti­fice should be discovered, for though the gates upon this murther were securely watcht, that no Christian slave should pass, yet those of our complexion might have free Egress and Regress.

We passed therefore forth of that gate, which leads towards Argiers, choosing to go thither, both because Iosina having past and repast that way, was acquainted with it, and also because we might there securely change our complexions, and so finde some Christian ship to transport us to this blessed shore.

Our feet had before been surbated with labor, so travel was not tedious to us, and our poor out­sides [Page 169] secured us from theeves, for we had scarce more cloth, then would cover our nakedness, though I had neer two hundred checqueens tied in a girdle about my waste, so that we feared no­thing but wild beasts, which often in those de­serts assault. Most of our discourse to shorten the time, was about our difference in religion, and unto so good a conceit had I brought Iosina of our belief, that she promised me if I would carry her into Christendom she would forsake her Religion, for parents, friends, and kindred she had none living, for me and my faith.

Thus travayled we with all imaginable con­tent, till we came to the large [...]and spacious for­rest of Albemquel, which spreads it self over nine mountains, but hath no other inhabitant's besides Lions, Tigers, Wolves, Bears, and other beasts of prey, and those in no small quantity: one days journy had we made through this diso­late Arbory, and were now proceeding onwards on the next, when about noon my Iosina, for my heart now bids me call her so) being somewhat faint through the extream heat, we sat to shade and rest our selves under a large spreading syco­more, (which in those countries bears a wild fig, much eaten by the Moors) and the fruit being al­most ripe, I, though unwillingly consented to by Iosina, mounted the tree to gather her some, when being on top and thick leaves shading me from all sight, I might on the suddain hear a rushing among the leaves below, and withal a great feminine shreike; I descended withal the expe­dition possible, but when I came down I found [Page 170] her not there, nor could I imagine which way she had taken: heavens! into what a passion was I cast? I easily determined her devoured by some wild beast, and for her sake vow'd re­venge upon all those in the forest; therefore snatching up my dart, which I stuck at the bot­tom of the tree, I took that way which my rea­son had directed me to, hoping either to finde her, or at least some remains of her; but having three days sought in vain, I was constrained by hunger to seek my way out of the wood, and ta­king the directions of the declining Sun, I past with much trouble through those thick brakes, for I could not again finde the road.

But having travayled thus one whole day, night coming on, fearing to loose what I had before got towards my way out, made me ascend a tree to repose me, but the next morning I found my self so faint through hunger and thirst, that I was scarce able to descend: but with much pains being got down, I had not walked far, but I was assaulted by a hunger-starved bear, who with open mouth assured himself of a prey, and I confess I almost assured my self I should be so to him, for such was my weakness that I found my self almost incapable of resistance; but summoning up all my spirits, I with both hands reared up my dart, and as he mounted up his two hinder feet to seize me, smote him [...] on the brest, and found an easier passage to his heart then I expected; his death two ways afforded me life, for I not onely escaped becomming a prey to [Page 171] him, but with his blood somewhat asswaged my violent hunger and thirst.

That day brought me out of the forrest, into a large sandy desert, where I resolved still to take the Sun for my guide in the day, and the Stars in the night; yet now I began to think I should wander eternally, for all that night and the suc­ceeding day I could meet with neither man, or habitation, nor yet wild beast; but more then the tedious of my travel, did the loss of my dear Io­sina affict me, though I suffered all the incon­veniencies of thirst and hunger, yet was my mind more tormented for her death (for so I supposed it,) then my body for want of neces­saries: it length utterly wearied I laid my self down upon the ground when by an Eccho through the hollow veins of the earth, I might hear strange and confused noyses, this made me yet more attentively listen, when at length I deter­mined it to be the sound of martial instruments not far distant, and somewhat revived hope to finde some rational creatures, for I had for many days conversed with no other then beasts of prey. I roused up my spirits, and clambring up a steep hill which lay before me, I might in the large plain on the other side behold a mighty Army which seemed in a readiness to expect their foes, who appeared on the tops of the fur­thermost hills.

Though I doubted I should at my approach to them be taken by them for a spy, yet my hun­ger constrained me to adventure down, and be­ing come to their Out-guards, I was immediately [Page 172] seized upon, and brought before the mighty Mullisheg King of Fess and Morocco; for his Army it was, which he had raised to oppose his rebeltious brothers, who having strictly exami­ned me, was so far from thinking me a spy, that he demanded of me if I would serve him in his wars, and I readily assenting to do it, he per­swaded, by I know not what genius, caused me to be listed in his own horse guard.

The opposite Army under the command of Muley Xeriff, stayd for some days longer on the tops of the mountains, nor could any provoca­tions draw him from his fastnesses; where it is to be supposed he resided in, expecting the other brother Muley Hamet to come and joyn with him; for no sooner was he a [...]rived, but they descended into the Plain, with an Army of a­bout fourscore thousand men, our whole force consisting of not above forty thousand foot, and twenty five thousand horse.

The night before the fatal battel, both Ar­mies encamped within the reach of each others Artillery, which played furiously whilst there appeared any twinkling of light, but night ha­ving covered the earth with her black man [...]el, both sides lay still till the morning-star showed them again in Arms, and after the Artillery had for some time thundred out death and destructi­on, the two brothers advanced towards us in a gallant Equipage; nor did we receive them with a resolution any thing unequal to theirs, though I must confess that we were forced to give a little ground to the fury of their first [Page 173] charge, yet that loss proved to our Advantage: In sum, the battel continved doubtful till about noon, when Muley Xeriff with a select party broke into the Kings guards, and had neer taken the great Mullisheg prisoner, or deprived him of life, had not my better stars guided me to his rescue.

Having set the King safe, and received from him innumerable thanks and promises of reward, I returned again to the almost broken guards, and encouraging them the best I could, come (said I to party who had seen me rescue the King, and had there-upon protested to follow me wheresoever I would lead them,) let us fetch this Traytor from amongst the midst of his rebel­lious troops, I was gallantly seconded by about a hundred of them, who gave so resolute a charge that we soon made way through those be­fore victorious troops, and came to the place where Xeriff was; him guided by fortune I sin­gled out, and soon brought him under the power of my sword, Heavens! How did the great Mullisheg embrace me when I presented him at his feet: As for him he caused his head to be immediately cut off, and being set upon a lance to be carried up and down the Army, which struck such a terror into the Rebels, that they immediately threw down their Arms and yield­ed, or else trusted to their heels for their safety. Muley Hamet with three thousand horse escaped the fury of the field, and fled towards the plains, but so totally was the Army routed, that he had little hopes of rallying them for to try another encounter.

[Page 174]I am ashamed to tell you (Mighty Prince) those obliging Expressions, with which Mulli­sheg entertained me after the Battel: he called me his Better Genius, One sent from the pro­phet to a [...]st his Right, the Soul of his Empire, with many other such strange Epethites, too te­dious to relate, withal giving me the Command of five thousand Horse, and desiring me with all speed posible, to pursue the Rebel Muly Ha­met; for you, said he, I know will bring him back: I would willingly have bin excused from this Employment, by reason of my being unac­quainted in the Countrey, but he told me he had provided me sufficient guides.

We overtook this unfortunate Prince on the utmost bounds of those vast Plains of Mombaza, accompanied with not above forty on fifty horse at most, the rest having either fallen into our hands, or deserted him, and to procure their own safety, fled into the deserts or by-ways: he no sooner perceiving us pursuing him with so great a power, but hoping to escape into a Wood not far distant, he struck out of the way from the rest towards it; he was easily known by those Guides that accompanied me, who told me that if he gained that Wood, it would be impossible to finde him out: This made me put spurs to my Courser, which being swifter than his, I overtook him just at the entrance into the Wood, and he seeing no possibility of esca­ping me, faced about, and opening his breast, Generous Soldier, said he, what ever by nature [...] art, yet show thy self now noble, transfix [Page 175] this unfortunate brest with thy sword, and make me not a scorn to my tyrannous Brother: I was about to tell him, that I had strict command from Mullisheg to bring him alive; when he guessing by my delays that I would not answer his desires, with his own sword pierced his heart.

I could not but both pity and commend the resolution of this generous Prince, and was standing amazed at the Magnanimity and Gal­lantry of the Action, when the whole body of Horse came up, the chief Commanders of which advised me to carry his body to the King, to assure him of his death, which I gave order to be done: and the Moorish King having first embraced me, and given me a million of thanks, and withal put a very rich Jewel about my neck, seemed somewhat to lament his death, giving order for his being buried like a Prince, which made me believe that he would have sa­ved his life, the rather because he was drawn into this Rebellion, more by cunning Artifices of his brother, than by any inclination of his own.

The Mighty Mullisheg strove still to load me with new Honors, making me often ride by his left hand, and at our arival at Mamorah (whi­ther he went to keep Court, and to settle his Kingdom, which now enjoyed a firm Peace by the death of his two brothers) made me one of his Bassa's, and of his Privy-Council, often u­sing to tell me, that at his first sight of me he had perceived in my countenance somewhat [...] [Page 176] more than ordinary. But all those Honors he conferred upon me, were envied by old Muly Mustapha, who presuming upon his being Uncle to the King, endeavored by all means possible to bring me into some disgrace.

But the King favor to me out-lasted his life, for he died soon after, and still rather increased than decayed, till such time I was made Vice­roy of Argiers: for all the Circumstances during my Brothers being there, I shall omit, presu­ming your Highness to be already acquainted with them, as far as they concerned him, and for the reasons of my not discovering my self to him, they are palpable enough to all; for had but the King had the least knowledge of my being a Christian, I had forfeited both my Honors and my Life, and feign I was, lest my whiteness should be discovered, to renew my tincture with the Juyce taught me by Iosina, which I never did, but her untimely end came fresh to my memory.

For all my Honors and the Glories of the Moorish Court, could not blot out of my heart that love I had entertained for her, and often would I take times solitarily to lament her mis­fortune; which as I was once in my Chamber very melancholy, considering of, and repining at the injustice of the gods, to deprive me of her as soon as I loved her, a strange person entred my Chamber, at which I was somewhat amazed, wondring how he durst be so bold as to press into my privacies, when addressing him­self to me in an humble manner, Sir, said he, I [Page 177] have often waited an opportunity to deliver something to you which may perhaps content you, but not finding any convenience, I have made bold now to press into your Chamber, and therewithal delivered me a Letter, which I ha­stily opened, and found therein to this effect.

[Page 178]I was so overjoyed at the reading of this Let­ter, that I could not for a good while return any Answer to the Messenger; but at length turning to him, And is my Dear Iosina still safe (said I) have the gods yet preserved her? Blessed heavens! how am I bound to your good­ness! She is, Sir, both safe (said the Mes­senger) and at present in Argiers. What need I then (said I) return any Answer to her Let­ter, when I may in person see her. Alas Sir, said the Messenger, she would think it too much an honor for her to receive a Visit from so great a Person. An honor, said I, 'twill rather be an honor to me if she admit me: Go (said I) to my Dear Iosina, and having begg'd her leave, come in the dusk of the Evening, and conduct me to her; in the mean time pre­sent her that as a Token of my constant Af­fection, giving him that Jewel which had been by Mullisheg presented unto me, upon my bringing him the body of Muly Hamet, not did the Messenger of so glad tidings go unre­warded.

Iosina give an easie grant to my desires, and no sooner had the darkness of the Night shut up the Day, but the Messenger conducted me to the place where she resided: but heavens! how was I extasied at the sight of her! if her beauties pleased me before, they now ravished me; I had seen her before in the habit of a slave, but now of a Princess. I stood rather like an inanimate Statua than a moving soul, and [Page 179] like one that could not tell whether I were moved with Admiration or Love; imposible indeed it will be to relate the passions of either of us at this meeting, or for any to guess what they were, but those that feel them; we soon renewed our former Loves, and I re­member amongst other Discourse she told me, that though I had used such perswasive Argu­ments to make her change her Religion, as had overcome her, yet she feared I had now for momentary Honor, changed mine for a worse than that which she before professed: But I as­sured her, and made her easily believe the contrary. In summe, we concluded to invent some way of getting both into Christendom, which yet we resolved to deferre, till those Gallies appointed for me to scour the Seas were in readiness, for they were then preparing; and indeed I should have embarqued with my Brother on his Negro, rather than have made him run so deep a resigo of his life, but that I should then have left behinde me my Dear Io­sina.

At last the Gallies being ready, I put to Sea, having privately got Iosina aboard, and could I have found an opportunity, would often have stole from the rest of the Fleet, but there was so much danger in it, that it was a desperation to attempt it. At length hearing that your Highness Fleet was out at Sea, I had so tampered with Nine of the Captains, that they promised to yield (and turn Christians) [Page 180] at the first sight of your Fleet, which I long sought our for, and at length fortunately found; and lest you should wonder why my self made resistance, know that a boysterous soldier lay­ing violent hands upon my beloved Iosina, I could do no less then give him the due reward of his insolence, which others of his fellows en­deavoring to revenge, I was forced to defend my self.

Here the Bassa ended, and the Princes be­gan their admirations of the strange adventures of his Story, when a menssenger brought word, that the guard of soldiers who had the charge of the Captives, was arrived; whereupon the Grand Duke gave command, that they should immediately be brought before him; but in the mean time those Captives who had been taken in other Christian ships, and were now relea­sed by Pedro de Venturo, came to give thanks to the Duke: amongst these Iosina presented her self so excellent in beauty, that her presence no less amazed the whole Court, then her Story had done: The Grand Duke of Florence rising from his Throne, saluted her, the like did the Dukes of Ferrara and Mantua, the last of which seemed to eye her with a strange kinde of affe­ction, and withall so much troubled in his thoughts, that he was observed by the whole presence; but at length not able longer to smo­ther them, he descended again from his seat, and taking her by the hand, Madam, said he, if I may not seem rude, or uncivil, to be thus in­quisitive [Page 181] into your fortunes at first sight, I would willingly beg the favor to know of what Coun­try you are. You have Sir, (replied she) put a riddle to me, which I am not able to resolve, for I never yet could learn of my Father what Country I was a Native of; but this I know, that he was an Hebrew by Nation. An Hebrew, re­plied the Duke of Mantoua, shall I yet be so much farther bold as to desire his name, if your slavery and other miseries have not made you forget it? He was Sir, answered she, called Signor Gioseppe, and had many years been a Merchant in Italy, till his fortunes there some­what decaying, he resolved to remove from thence into the Levant, but in our way we were taken by some Pyrates of Tunis, where he after three years died a slave; but I continued so till fortune instructed that noble Bassa, and my self, to conspire our liberty. It is most true (said the Duke of Mantua to himself with the tears stand­ing in his eyes) but fair Virgin, continued he, I once lost a daughter, who must be now about your years and feature, and if the Cherry your dead mother affirmed you had upon your right Brest, agree with the Mold upon your Chin, I must of force claim you for her; give me then leave to see that infallible testimony. She im­mediately showed it to him, to the wonder of them all: And the Duke no longer able to con­tain himself, embracing her with a fatherly af­fection, the tears trickling down his cheeks for joy: Is it then possible, said he, (my dear Iu­lietta) [Page 182] that after fourteen years absence I should again be blessed with the sight of thee! Oh my dear girl [...] to what sorrow did that treacherous Jew betray me, and what miseries did his theft involve thee into! Oh! Noble Florence, this is that childe of mine, this is my dear and onely Iulietta, whom that perfidious and treacherous Jew Gioseppe stole from me at four years of age, depriving not onely me of a childe, but my Dukedom of an Heir: Oh! most worthy Bassa, by whose means I am again blessed with an Issue, since thou hast before gained her love, receive her now again at my hands, and with her after my decease, my Name and Dukedom: in this extasie did the good Duke run on for near half an hour, to the admiration of the whole pre­sence.

But to make this day wholy repleat with wonders, the valiant Goodlake met with an ac­cident, which pleased him no less then could the gaining of a whole Dukedom; for being espyed by one of the redeemed Captives, though not altogether so fair, yet not much yielding to the beauty of Iulietta; she suddenly accosted him, and to his great amazement, straitly embracing him, cried out, And are the gods yet so favo­rable to the afflicted Mariana, to permit her a­gain the sight of her beloved Goodlake! now am I fully requited for all the miseries I have un­dergone, for all the cruelties of my Uncle, for all my dangers at Land, and captivity at Sea. Captain Goodlake was so strangely transported [Page 183] with this sudden accident, that he knew not well what to answer, he beheld the visage, the carriage, the speech, and the accent of his beloved Mariana, yet could not but believe her dead, and that all that he heard, or saw, was a meer fantasm: But she seeing him in that passion, my dear Goodlake, said she, from whence proceeds this strange perplexity in thy minde? have I ventured all dangers imaginable, and endured all miseries to finde thee out, and wilt thou not now own me for thy Mariana? how many times hast thou solemnly sworn that without me thou couldst not live? how many times hast thou pro­tested that I was the very essence of thy soul? Away false man, if nothing will convince thee, yet let this Ring, the last pledge I received of thy Love, be a testimony against thee, for thy perjuries, which the gods will without doubt severely vindicate. Goodlake was yet more asto­nished at the strangeness of the adventure, but at length recollecting himself, if thou be'est, (said he,) the shade of my dear Mariana, as I can­not but think thou art, what worth was there in me that could call thee from the eternal Man­sion of rest, to these earthly miseries? I am, said she, neither shade nor Ghost, but thy real living Mariana, cloystered up from thee by the cruelty of my Uncle, who to preserve to him­self my Estate, and to put thee into despair, gave out I was dead, and made a solemn burial of an empty Coffin; but his real death had no sooner freed me from his Tyranny, but I put in [Page 184] execution that vow, which during my confine­ment, I made to search thee through the world, and now I have found thee, wilt thou forsake me? Forsake thee, my dear Mariana, said Good­lake, the gods must first relinquish [...] their eter­nal powers; Alas! those years I have lived since thy supposed death, have been but a con­tinual death to me, and had not the friendship of the Noble Spencer kept me alive, and his love bouy'd up my Spirits, I had assuredly long since been a concomitant with those wandring spirits in the eternal shades. Here the Gene­rous Spencer came to salute the fair Mariana, and to joy with her both for her safety, and her happy meeting of her long lost Lover.

But all these strange adventures rather increa­sed the worthy Spencers melancholy, then al­layed it; others joy put him in minde of his grief, for the loss of his beloved Spouse; which the Grand Duke perceiving, and willing to make fully compleat the joys of this day retiring for a short time, soon returned leading his Fair Guest vailed in his hand, he addressed himself to Mr. Spencer: Noble En­glishman, said he, the resentment I have to see you alone discontent of all this Noble Com­pany, and in a day so fraught with wonders, makes me present you this Lady, in whom I dare presume you will finde as ample content as any here; Herewith Besse Bridges (for so she was till then thought to be) taking off her vail, the amazed Spencer ran joyfully to salute her, [Page 185] embracing her with all that affection which could be expected from so constant and loving a pair, whose frequent adversities had both tried their love, and confirmed their constancy.

But whilst they were thus embracing each o­ther, an antient gentleman who had stood all this while mute and melancholly, amongst the re­leased captives, stepped forth, and addressing himself to the generous Spencer's fair Spouse. Madam (said he) both of the names, and the ex­cellency of your beauty, I am confirmed that you are the Lady, I have so long been in search for to deliver this letter to from your noble Father. Certainly (Sir) said she, you are ex­treamly mistaken, for neither was my father noble, nor hath he this many years been amongst the living. True Madam (replyed he,) your sup­posed father is long since dead, but she whom you and the world I likewise esteemed your Mo­ther, hath upon her Death-Bed declared that the Countess of Sherborn, your real Mother dying in Childe-bed you were put to her to Nurse, but her own and onely Infant soon after dying, she loath to be childless, sent word to my Lord, that you were dead; so that you have ever since meanly lived, as childe to your Foster-father, which yet could not obscure those noble vertues inherent to your birth, and which declare you to be, as indeed you are, the worthy Lady Isabel­la, sole daughter and heiress to my thrice noble Master the Earl of Sherborn. You tell me, said she, strange Paradoxes, and therewith breaking [Page 186] open her Letter, and having read it to her self, see here, said she, my Spencer, the same this gen­tleman tells us, is confirmed by that worthy Lord, nor will I in the least doubt it.

This joy was added to the rest of those great adventures which had before happened, which so rejoyced the grand Duke, that he resolved to portion his entertainment equal to the strange­ness of them; and therefore earnestly pressing that the marriages between the Illustrious Bassa, and the Infanta of Mantoua, and the gallant Captain Goodlake, and his beloved Mariana, might be celebrated in his Court, which was readily assented to, nor wanted there a third Marriage to make full the joy for Ruffman, having the same day found out Mrs. Forcet who was likewise cast away in the Negro: it was con­cluded that he, and Maria, should now likewise consummate their loves:

The Revels, Dancings, Justs, Masques, and o­ther Triumphs performed at the Marriage of these worthy personages was such, that there wanted nothing of that state and magnificence, which the Riches of the grand Duke, or the fa­mous City of Florence could afford, to the far re­nowned and deserve d [...]pender of such a cere­mony, the solemnity of which lasted forty days.

At the end of which time the beauteous Lady Isabella, put her Spencer in mind of the earnest pressings of the Earl of Sherborn her father, for her return home, and he begging leave of the grand Duke, had it, though somewhat unwilling­ly [Page 187] granted, whereupon the generous Spencer, and the noble Isabella, Goodlake and Mariana, Forcet and Maria, together with Ruffman, pre­pared for their voyage, and accompanied by the three Dukes, with many other persons of quality, came to Pisa where they imbarqued, and for­tune being now weary of buffe [...]ing such worthy personages, gave them a prosperous Gale for England.

As for the worthy Bassa, having now the pos­session of his beloved Iulietta, Infanta of Man­tua, he resolved to keep his vow of never more returning into his native Country.