CLEOPATRA A NEW ROMANCE. Written Originally in FRENCH by the Fam'd Author OF CASSANDRA AND Now Englished by a Gent. of the Inner-Temple.

LONDON, Printed for Humphrey Moseley at the Princes Armes in St. Pauls Church-yard, and John Holden at the New-Exchange. 1650

To the READER.

I Should not have trou­bled thee with this Prolegomena (know­ing that most men doe pass them over without taking any notice of them, did I not conceive it in some sort necessary for the bet­ter understanding of what is here exposed to thy view and censure. The Author of this Work is the same who writ Cassandra; they are two Ciens proceeding from one [Page] Root: I shall not goe about to de­tract from the former, that so I may advance the repute of the la­ter: They have been both so for­tunate as to find a very great ap­probation in the World; yet thus much I shall say of Cleopatra, that what thou dost now see of it is but introductive to greater mat­ters, it being a larger Field then thou dost imagine; and if thou wilt take the paines to observe the Oeconomy of the Work, thou shalt find in it more Art and Contri­vance then thou didst expect. The Subject most ample and spaci­ous of it self, help'd with a little [Page] invention, will furnish thee with a great number of Histories, in which all the considerable persons of that Age, which our Author treats on, will appear with a suffi­cient shew of truth; and if amongst divers and sundry Adven­tures thou wilt observe the con­nexion of the Work, thou wilt find that every line doth supply it's pro­per place, which maketh it of such a composure and method as is not ordinary. I shall not say any more of that which I here offer thee; thou maist better ground thy Judgement on the Work it self, then by enquiring after mine, [Page] which (it maybe) is over-partiall. Some men, whose works have re­ceived some umbrage by the emit­ting of our Authors, have repor­ted him to be a Monk; but I conceive they were ill advised, since those persons ought to be igno­rant of those things which our Author hath treated on, so well, as to contract their envy. Thus much I can safely assure thee, be our Author a Monk, Cavalier, or Doctor, for what he is, we know not (since he hath not been pleased to fix his name to any of his Books) he is one who is well acquainted with Court Transacti­ons, [Page] and Warlike Discipline; and if he be a Monk, I can assure thee that he is better versed in the Sentiments of Love, then in his Breviary.

I shall say nothing of the Trans­lation; but what errours hath e­scaped the Press, I doe desire thee favourably to correct; and if (for acknowledgement) it may re­ceive thy Approbation, thou maist hear more of me.

Errata,

The first part. PAge 22. Line 29. for satisfaction, read fortification. p. 33. for pro­secuting, r. persecuting. p. 38. l. 22. for prosecutor, r. persecutor. p. 4 [...]. l. 14. for countinuance, r. countenance. p. 54. last line, for intrust, r. interrupt. p. 211. l. 1. for escutchion, r. shield, the same errour cor­rect elsewhere.

The second Part. PAge 4. l. 13. for enemy, r. Empire. p. 26. l 21. for Iuba, r. Iulia. p. 40. l. 19. for near, r. new. p. 55. l. 26 instead of king, r. thing. p. 78. l. 4 for impudent, r. impendent. p. 79. l. 30. instead of that held it, make it, that I hold it. p. 89. l. 7. after the word Cleopatra, adde these words, to the Prince Coriolan. p. 92. l. 23. for assent, r. affront. p. 92. l. 29. for pigne, r. [...]ique. p. 96. l. 20. for lenity, r. levity. p. 96. last line. for Naster, r. Ma­ster. p. 117. l. 13. for believed, r. beloved. p. 120. l. 15. for feared, r. seated. p. 121. l. 17. for reputation, r. expectation.

CLEOPATRA, The first part,

the first Book.

THe shadows of the night were not as yet dispersed, when as the sorrowful Tiridate awakened by his cruel passions, and being no longer able to wait for the approach­ing light, went out of his melancholy and solitary habitation for to recreate his languishing spi­rits, and amorous thoughts, upon the Sea-banks of Alexandria. The condition of his mind, as well as that of his fortune, furnished him with a very large and ample subject matter of entertainment, and in­deed, it was in such employments, and divertisements, that he ordinarily spent the greatest part of his time: his griefs were the most violent, and his misfortunes the greatest, that ever any soul endured; yet never­thelesse he found so much glory, and sweetnesses in his sufferings, that he neither loathed nor desired an end of that which he had resolved to cherish, during the whole remainder of his deplorable life. Hee had not spent many minutes upon these sad considerations, when as lifting up his eyes from the ground where he had kept them for a long time fixed, and looking towards the Sea, hee was suddenly surprised with an object very well deserving his contemplation; It was [Page 2] a great fire, which rising out of the water, seemed to hasten toward the heavens, for to seek there, as in its ordinary center, an assyle of protection against those enemies which it fled from, the flames of it interming­ling it self in many places with the cloudes, and smoak ascending towards the heavens, and the spar­cles of it mounting with great impetuosity, seemed to dispute with the starres for lightnesse, with which the firmament was then richly enamelled; Tyridate i­magined, and upon good grounds, that those flames amidst the waters, proceeded from no other cause than the firing of some Vessell, and at the same instant, having alwayes an inclination which tended to pitty and generosity, deplored and lamented the misfor­tune of those persons, who cruelly suffered in that flame. Hee powred forth his Praiers to heaven for their safeties, for that he was not then in a capacity to afford them better succours or assistance. Ah! de­vouring flames, said he, you exercise your selves with lesse power and cruelty than those which I carry about with mee; For if yee be not suddenly extinguished, the Fuell which feeds you, will ere long be wholly consu­med; but the fire which I feel within me, doth find a perpetuall nourishment, neither can I hope for extin­guishment either from a contrary element, or defect of combustible matter, for it burns constantly with­out consuming the matter that is the cause of it: hee accompanied these words with many sighes, during which time, he earnestly beheld the fire, untill he per­ceived it to wax pale by the comming of day-light, which in a short time, dispersed the darkness both from the Sea and Land; it was then that Tiridate (being a­ble to exercise his sight with greater freedome) was [Page 3] surprised with a second spectacle, wherewith he was much more affected than with the former; he saw cer­tain persons who had in all probabilitie escaped the danger of the fired Vessell, and seemed to contest with the waves for their lives, and intended all their nerves, and used their utmost endeavours for gaining the shore, from which they perceived they were not far distant; this small number, was made up of two women, who held straitly a planck▪ which bore them up, and kept them from sinking, and one onely man, who swimming behind them, spent all his force and strength in pushing them forwards towards the shore. This man seemed not to regard the preservation of his own life, for any other end than to employ it for the safety of those personages: Neverthelesse he had so farre spent his spirits, and tired himself, that he had little hopes to make his service either profitable or effectuall unto them: For although that between the ship and the shore, the distance was not so great, but that a man, in a time more calm, might have perfor­med that service; Yet the great strugling which hee used to push forward those two Ladies towards the shore, and that which they themselves had endured, by reason of the coldnesse of the water, and the per­petuall agitation of the waves, and by a hardship or penance no way suitable to their nicenesse and de­licacie, they were so discouraged, that all the force, and strength they had left them, was not sufficient to conduct them to the bank side. Oh! what rare beau­ties were seen by Thetis, and those waves were most glorious and happy which could with so much free­dome and liberty embrace and kisse one of the most fair creatures that ever nature formed. And although [Page 4] the waves seemed to abate their wonted fury, and rudenesse, that so their embracements might be made less perillous, yet their fiercenesse had been sufficient to have choaked them, had not the gods sent them a very seasonable relief. Tiridate standing on the bank-side, and beholding this object of pitty, did not long advise upon, or balance the resolution he took up, and being egged on by that noble and generous humour which alwayes prompted him to hazard his life for the safetie of distressed persons, cast himself into the Sea without putting off his clothes, for that he wore at that time a very thin and sleight suit, which could not much incommode him in the design which hee had, and so swimming with much swiftnesse, he sud­denly aborded those, who were in extreme need of his assistance, and then permitting that man to employ the remainder of his strength for his own preservation and safetie, he did them the same service, which they had so long with so much successe received from the other; and swimming behind them, pushed forward the plank, with so much dexterity and strength, that in a very short time he drove it neer the shore, and as soon as he could touch the bottom with his feet, hee taking them under the arms, supported their tired bo­dies, and then hasted to conduct them to the banks side, whither their man immediatly followed them, ere that Tiridate could think of reattempting his re­lief. The chiefest of these Ladies resembled Venus, comming out of the Water, or something more beau­tifull if it were possible, and Tiridate (notwithstan­ding his thoughts were prepossessed with one of the most admirable beauties of the world) could not be­hold her without having his eyes dazeled, and many [Page 5] strong promptings to idolatrie; he had undoubtedly taken her for a Goddesse of the waters, had he not seen her too rudely treated for one that had any em­pire or domination over them, and he had certainly thought her to be some other divine Deitie, if the ex­tremity in which he had seen her some few minutes before had not assured him that it was to a mortall beautie that he had given his service and assistance. Her complexion was not the most white, nor the most curious that might be beheld, yet it was exquisite enough to surpasse any ordinary feature, and for re­compence, her eyes whose blacknesse could be com­pared to nothing so well as her hair, sent forth most penetrating raies; all the lines of her face were formed with a very marvellous proportion, her neck which was then half uncovered, did very well second the charmes of her countenance, and her stature which surpassed that of ordinary women, was accompanied with a port and mind so grace­full and majestick, that on all sides they made up so rare a piece, that no mortall eye could behold her without making warre with his heart, and without having his spirits affected with extraordinary motions. Tiridate had not presently the leasure to contemplate on this wonder or master-piece of nature, and the Lady no sooner set foot on the shore, but shee falling down on the sands for to rest her self, being too much tired for to endure any longer standing, or to return thanks to him who had saved her life, the wo­man who followed her, was enforced through wea­rinesse to lay her down at her feet, but her man, al­though he had very much streined himself, yet being of a more strong constitution, was not so much dis­heartned [Page 6] with the great pains that he had taken, but there remained in him as well a power, as a remem­brance to return thanks unto him who had preser­ved them from the fury of the waves, and saved their lives: He kneeling down therefore at the feet of Tiridate, and embracing his knees with much affection, spake in this sort: Whosoever you are, I may safely say, according to those resentments which I ought to have of it, that I am en­debted unto you for my life, if it bee lawfull to reckon it, with the price of that which you have so generously preserved; but my Lord, the whole world ows you very much with me, for that you have with so much generosity, procured the safety of one of its most important personages: Tiridate raising him up, and causing him to sit, that he might take breath and recover strength, told him, that he accounted that day most happy (amongstt those many misfortunes that the Gods had sent him) if it were true, that he had contributed any thing towards his own safety, or of that person whose life was so dear and consi­derable: so soon as these two had used some other Civill expressions, the fair Lady (having had time to take breath and recover her spirits) rose from the place where she sate, and having looked round about her, she suddainly espied Tiridate, who she well knew had been the cause of her preservation; Ti­ridate his complexion and behaviour was not so mean, that one might behold him without being surprised, and indeed there were very few in the whole world, who carried about with them more marks of an il­lustrious birth, his looks being so delightfull, that they seemed to be made up of sweetnesse and gravity, [Page 7] he being likewise of a very comely stature, gave the fair unknown Ladie sufficient cause of respect; who deeming him worthy of those civilities, spake to him in a tone full of gracefulnesse and Majestie: I owe unto you my life, said she, but I am no way afflicted for being engaged to a man, in whom I perceive so many marks of an extraordinary vertue and birth. Tiridate, who (by means of the lightning of this ad­mirable beauty, and those advantagious expressions which this stranger had used) had already entertai­ned very much respect for her, raised himself from the place where he sate, and accosting her with great submission, said unto her, Madam, you have too high conjectures, and have entertained too advantagious thoughts of me, upon grounds sufficiently deceitfull; although it be true, that my birth is sufficiently noble, yet the more is my shame, who must owe that to the glory of my Ancestors, which I could no way hope for from my own Atchievements: The fair stranger had endeavoured without doubt, to contest with the modesty of Tiridate, if she had not hin­dred her, by acquainting her with the disaccommo­dation which shee suffered, by reason of her wet cloaths, together with the endangering of her health, Madam said he, I am a stranger in this Country, and the rather, for that the misfortunes of my life, have re­duced me to a condition of avoiding all humane societie. Its that which will hinder me from offering you a place of retirement correspondent to your me­rit, which possibly at another time, and in another Country, I might have afforded you; I have only here, a little corner of retreat, about five or six hundred paces distant, and it is in the most savage, and the [Page 8] most private hold, which I could possibly choose, there are neverthelesse some Chambers indifferently com­modious, and Beds, on which you may rest your self, whilst your Cloaths are drying: you will be there not so honorably treated as in the town, but yet with lesse trouble, and you shall see no body, but those who are wholly devoted to your service. Your of­fers, answered the fair stranger, are very noble, and bountifull, but before I shall presume to accept of them, I shall desire to be informed, what that town is, that you were pleased to mention, and what Country we are now cast into: You may see yon­der, replied Tiridate, the walls of the stately Citie of Alexandria, the Metropolis of the Kingdome of Egypt, most famous by reason of its founder, and divers great Kings, who have made it their principall place of residence, which seemeth now to lament the change of her condition, for that having been the glorious seat of so many Ptolomies, Antonie's, and Cleopatras, she now with disdain submits her self to the will of a Roman Governour. Whilst that Tiridate was speaking, the man, who was sa­ved from the crueltie of the waves, knew very well the Sea Shoar, and Wals of Alexandria, but was much amazed at the sight, and looking earnestly upon the strange Lady, who suddainly changed her countenance, and cast forth divers sighs, which the words of Tiridate forced from her heart; yet ne­verthethelesse composed her self the best she could, and desired Tiridate to give her a more large account: It is, said he, Cornelius Gallus, who commands in Alexandria and all Egipt, for the Emperor Au­gustus, who gave to him this Government, after the [Page 9] deplorable death of the most unfortunate Antony, and the great Queen Cleopatra, who lost in that Ci­ty their lives and whole Empire, about nine or ten years since, which disaster, I suppose, you have long since heard, for that I believe there is not any place, where that lamentable decision of the Empire of the Universe, hath not been largely reported; I have heard of it, replied coldly the strange Lady, but by what hath fallen from you, I perceive that I shall be necessitated to abuse your goodnesse, by accepting your Courteous offer of a place for my retreat I am resolved therefore (said she, giving him her hand) to goe along with you, and the danger of faithlesse men, which I have newly escaped, shall not hinder the confidence which I have in you, grounded on the opinion which I have of your vertues: with this she began to goe, and so resting her self, with one hand on Tiridate his arm, and the other on her mans, untill she passed over that little way which was be­tween the retreate of Tiridate, and the Sea shoare, but though the distance was not great, yet her indis­position, and the weight of her wet and heavy gar­ments, made it seem very tedious and troublesome. The house whither Tiridate conducted her, was si­tuated between Rocks on the one side, and Woods on the other, but towards the Sea it had a full and free prospect. This fair Lady was no sooner arrived there, but Tridate gave suddain orders for the pro­viding a Chamber indifferently well furnished, con­sidering the time and place, unto which having con­ducted the Ladies, and so being out of Civility and respect withdrawn, They forthwith began to devest themselves of their wet garments, and then rested [Page 10] themselves on the bed, she that was the Mistresse commanding her servant that attended on her, to lye with her, having severall times before du­ring their tedious voyage, given her the same liberty and freedome: Tiridate hasted to change his cloaths, and gave order for other dry garments to be gi­ven to the strange Gentleman, who came along with them, and had a good portlike carriage, and see­med to be about the age of fifty: All of them having consumed sometime at their rest, the Dinner was served up in the Ladies Chamber, where they dined; and Tiridate having dined in another room with his new guest, desired him to goe and know of the Ladies, at what hour he might wait on them, without in­commoding them. The fair stranger, having sent him word, that she was readie to receive him; he went into her Chamber, where she treated him with abun­dance of Civility, and respect; she had by this time so well recovered her wonted strength, and her fears were so well dispersed, that she appeared to Tiridate in her ordinary condition; he spent some time in giving way to his admiration, and notwithstanding his mind was prepossessed with another object, yet he could not but account this, one of the most splendid, and beau­tifull, that ever he beheld. The fair Ladie had no lower opinion of the worth of Tiridate, and this re­ciprocall esteem, gave each other a desire of further acquaintance; the respect which this fair Ladie had Printed in the mind of Tiridate, hindred him from discovering his curiosity, but she being more hardy in opening her desires, after that she had intreated him to sit on the Beds side, and looked on him with a most pleasant countenance, told him, that she should [Page 11] be very ungratefull, if she should not discover her self unto him, who had so far obliged her; and there­fore, said she, although divers Politick considerations, might give me occasion to conceale the truth of my name and birth, being in a Country which I ought greatly to suspect, yet I shall make no difficulty at all, to disclose to you that secret, since I have so fresh a remembrance of what I owe you, and a very great o­pinion of your incomparable vertues, If I might be but satisfied, in the desire which I have to be informed of your own condition, Pardon, I beseech you, this curiosity, and doe not think it strange, that I am wil­ling to know the name, and life of him, whose looks, together with those Civilities, which I have recei­ved from him, doe sufficiently manifest his greatnesse and merit; if you have no reason to suspect my fi­delity, I earnestly desire you to satisfie this desire of mine, and in exchange, I shall make you such a nar­ration, as will sufficiently evidence the confidence that I have in you. Tiridate staied sometime, before he returned answer to this discourse, but after words, lifting up his eys, and fixing them on the countenance of his fair guest, spake after this manner. That, which you desire of me, cannot be recompenced with any thing, but that which you have so nobly offered, and I should be very unwilling to discover the secrets of my life, to any person of lesse worth than your self: I shall not need to tell you, by way of excuse, that an apparant danger of my life will accompany this narrative, the value that I put upon it is so low, that it cannot hinder me from making this discovery, but in this relation of my life (if I doe it saithfully) I must acquaint you with those things, which I never [Page 12] as yet discovered to any body living, all which, I had resolved to bury in silence, yet I shall overcome all those difficulties, being thereunto encouraged by your promised exchange, and being thereunto like­wise enforced, by reason of the difficulty I have to disobey your commands.

This language of Tiridate, was so little satisfacto­ry to the fair Lady, that it rather occasioned a contra­ry effect, by augmenting the desire shee had of a fur­ther knowledge of him; Neverthelesse she seemed to expresse an unwillingness to put him to the trouble of declaring that, which he desired to keep secret, unto which Tiridate civilly replyed, and told her, that hee was resolved not to be backward in the observance of any command that she should lay on him, and so af­ter a short pause, the better to prepare het attention, began his discourse as followeth.

The History of Tiridate.

THe relation which I shall make, will be nothing but a series of misfortunes, and in many places so inconsiderable, that I should sufficiently tire your patience, if I were not resolved to abridge it as much as possibly I can, enlarging my self onely on subjects most materiall, and passing over very slight­ly, all things of lesser importance and concernment.

My name is Tiridate, and am of the illustrious race of the Arsasides, the son of Orodias, King of the Parthes, the same who gave the Romans▪ so terrible a blow, that it cost them the lives of their Generall [Page 13] Crassus and his whole Army: I am brother to Phraa­tus, who now possesseth that vast Empire, which hath been the continuall Seat of our Ancestors ever since the Reign of the great Arsasius, who first founded that proud Monarchie, from whom we are Descen­ded in a righr Masculine line: upon this discoverie of the noble birth of the Prince, this beautifull guest began to encrease her respect towards him, and there­fore interrupting him in the beginning of his dis­course, told him that shee had imagined upon good grounds, that he was of no mean extraction, and there­fore am most joyfull (said she) that I have not been deceived in the opinion which I had of you: but that you may likewise know, that its no inferiour person that presumes to put so noble a Prince to so great a trouble, I shall acquaint you (before I give you a more exact account of my life and fortune) that I am born a Princesse, and lawfull Queen of one of the most puissant and rich kingdomes of the world. Tiridate, hearing this discourse, rose from his seat, and kissing most respectfully the hemme of her garment, craved her pardon for those errours and mistakes which his ignorance of her condition had occasioned. The fair Queen answered him with complements of the same kind, and so having spent some time on that subject, Tiridate having reassumed his former place by the in­treaty of the Queen, he continued on his Discourse. I was born under an unfortunate Planet, and all those who advised with the Startes at my birth, did perceive that all their influences portended me nothing but mi­serie. The famous Mathematician Trasillus, who passeth for the best in the world in that art, having seen me in Armenia since my misfortunes, after that [Page 14] he had looked on my hand, and observed my coun­tenance, and had been informed of the day and hour of my birth, made this Prognostication concerning mee, that my miseries should never end but with my life, which, said he, shall be of no long continuance, for that I was liable to a death which should be nei­ther violent nor naturall, but both together. I was educated in my infancy in the Court of the King my Father, with the rest of my Brethren which were ma­ny, and I my self being the youngest; Pacorus and Phraatus were about the age of sixteen or eighteen, and I my self had scarce attained unto my ninth year, when as the Prince Pacorus my brother and Labienus, invaded the Territories of Asia, who at that time were reduced under the Roman Government, there having utterly defeated Saxa, and being puffed up with their prosperous successes, plundered and ransac­ked all Cilicia, and a good part of Syria: And it may be you have heard of the great Progresse they made in a very short time, although the end proved fatall, they being the very next year after both defeated and slain by the Roman Army, under the command of Ventidius, one of the Lieutenants of M. Antonius. After the death of the Prince of Pacorus, Phraatus, who was about the same age, was then married, and had taken upon him the Government of the King­dom, being thereunto encouraged by the desire of our aged Father, who loved his ease; about the tenth year, of my age, I was removed unto a Town upon the Frontiers of Parthia, where the King sometimes used to have his Court, and where the Kings Children were oftentimes educated. I continued there about four years at my exercises and studies, during which [Page 15] time, I behaved my self so, that my Tutors and Ma­sters were well satisfied (according to the report they made of it) with the progresse I had made in my stu­dies and exercises. I began then to have thoughts of returning to my Fathers Court, when as it was all besprinkled with the bloud Royall; The cruell and ambitious Phraatus, unworthy of the bloud and me­mory of Arsacius, the better to assure himself the qui­et possession of the Kingdome, massacred most cruelly all his brethren; The good old King our Father, having manifested his just resentments of so monstrous and horrible an action, caused himself to be killed also, as thinking that to be the greatest punishment that he could inflict on him; I had run the same fortune with my brethren, had not the executioner, who was sent to the Town to perform that action, had some sparcks of vertue, and born some respect to the blood Royall; for in stead of executing the commands of Phraatus, he saved me from his cruelty; he having acquainted me with the deplorable loss of my Brethren (for the sad accident of our Fathers death was then unknown to him) and the charge which he had received for my dispatch, rather said he, let Arsanus die a thousand times, than embrue his hands in the blood of his lawfull Prince; Let us therefore be gone young Prince, said he, and by our flight, endeavour to prevent your apparent ruine. I yeelded my self wholly to his Government, and so with my Governour, and five or six servants, who were resolved to run the same fortune with me, mounted on horse-back, and al­though I had then scarce attained to the age of 14, yet I was exposed to a wearisome and perillous voy­age; This was the beginning of my miseries, having [Page 16] began this hard Lesson betimes, in which I have ever since (which is about twelve years) continued: in which I now remain, and in which (the disgraces of my life are such) that I hope for ever to continue. Arsanus conducted me to the Court of the King of Armenia, who, for that he was at some distance with Phraatus, received me into his protection: I lived ve­ry peaceable and quiet there for some time, for be­sides the allowance which I received from the Ar­menian King, Wee brought with us neer a thousand Talents, which the King my Father gave my man, upon the discovery of his intentions to act for my preservation; but the misfortune of that King occa­sioned a sudden change of my condition, who falling into the hands of M. Antony, was with his whole Familie brought prisoners to Cleopatra, who shortly after caused his head to be most inhumanly chopped off; this misfortune, of which I beleeve you are not ignorant, enforced me to seek for refuge and shelter else-where. Arsanus perswaded me to visit the King of Media, who alwayes held good correspondency with the King my Father, where I found a safe re­treat for three or four years, during which time hap­ned the ruine of M. Antony and Cleopatra, upon which followed the perfect establishment of the Ro­man Empire upon Augustus Caesar: besides many other accidents, in which all the Nations of the earth were very much interessed; The cruell Phraatus sent often-times to the King of Media to perswade him to deliver me up to his mercy, which although with all his subtiltie he could not obtain, yet he prevailed so farre with him, as that he commanded me to re­tire out of his Dominions; having received this order [Page 17] at Pranspa, the Capitall City of Media, and there­fore leaving that Country, I went into Bithinia, where I was no soover arrived, but the King being corrupted with my brothers presents and promises, intended to betray me into his cruell possession. This treason being discovered to Arsanus, by one who had been tampered with to be instrumentall for the accomplishment of the design, and abhorred the barbarousnesse of the fact, we hastened out of the Country of Bithinia, faster than we came to it, and after many troublesome and tedious journys, we at the last arrived in Judea, which was under the Domination of King Herod, who had been for­merly supported by M. Anthony, and at that time by the Emperor Augustus. After this lamentable manner, did I spend the time of my youth, running from one Kingdome and Province to another, and from Court to Court, begging protection and shel­ter, for to prolong this miserable and deplorable life of mine, that is scarce worth the pains that I have taken, and the hardship that I have endured for its preservation. I have been very short hitherto in this narrative, by reason of my fear to tire you; but I shall enlarge my self more upon those acci­dents which hapned unto me in Judea, since its they only which at present doe render my life most mi­serable. I had some reason to seek for refuge at the Court of Herod, for that he was an irreconcileable enemy of my cruell brother Phraatus: for a little before my arrivall there, he had not only assisted his enemy Antigonus, but had made severall incursions into that part of his Country bordering on Parthia, together with divers other injuries, which he offered [Page 18] that King, whilst he was employed about other dif­ferences, and was not in a capacity to demand sa­tisfaction from him; so that Herod waited only for an opportunity to doe him mischief, by way of requitall. Upon these considerations, I was Civilly re­ceived by Herod, and indeed my civill reception was (by those who were acquainted with the rigid humor of Herod) attributed rather to a desire of an oppor­tunity to be revenged on Phraatus, than to any na­turall goodnesse or compassion of his own; in fine, I was nobly treated by him, and received not only promises of protection against my brothers cruelty, but also a supply of forces, to enable me to make war against him, and revenge my self on him for his barbarous persecutions. I accepted of these extraor­dinary offers of his very thankfully, and so being by the Kings order very much caressed and made much of by all his Courtiers, I began to live in some quietnesse, delight and security; I say I began, but Alas! this repose of mine was of no long duration, & if I found some rest for my body, sure I am, that my mind was embroyled in the most cruell War, or rather the strictest captivity that can possibly be imagined. Ah how much better had it been for me, to have ex­posed my body to the inhumane cruelty of Phraa­tus, than have undergone those inward torments, which have ever since most cruelly afflicted me? inso­much that I may safely say, that by endeavouring to avoid a little evill, or at least an evill of no long continuance, I have precipitated my self into the greatest of evils, and I might say the most cruell and cruciating of all others whatsoever, if the glory which I take in suffering did not the some measure [Page 19] counterbalance the crueltie. To conclude, Tiridate was predestinated to die by a more fair hand than that of the cruell Phraatus, and when he received that wound, which will bring him to his grave, he accepted of it with so profound a respect, that he thought it very criminall and heinous to murmur at it. Herod was then married to the Princesse Ma­riama, who descended from the illustrious race of the Asmoneans and Maccabes, by means of which, to­gether with that of Antipater, and the Roman sup­port, he had usurped the crown of Judea: you have I suppose heard the manner of his comming to that government, after that by the assistance of the Ro­mans, he had ruined Hircanus and Aristobulus; for although Mariama had a just resentment against the destroyer of her family, yet through the perswa­sions of her Mother Alexandra, and her old Uncle Hircanus, she was induced to marry him; but it was not possible for her to affect him as a husband, between whom there was such a disproportion in na­ture, the inequality of their birth, together with those bloody outrages she had received by the death of her nearest kindred, and the usurpation of the crown, which of right belonged to the young Ari­stobulus her brother, made her to look upon him with a version and disdain; she lived with him never­thelesse with an admirable moderation, and out of an excesse of vertue she offeted violence, and enfor­ced her inclinations for to bear with him, whom God and her friends had given her for a husband▪ untill that by a horrible tract of cruelty, he had wholly defaced every Character of it. This was occasioned by the murther of the young Aristobulus, whose incompa­rable [Page 20] vertues, and naturall endowments hastned his ruin; for Herod being very politick, and jealous of the inclination which the Jewish people had towards this young Prince, caused him to be stifled in a Bath, in the eighteenth year of his age. There was never known a Prince more beautifull or accomplished, and therefore it was no wonder, that Mariama did thunder out her just resentments for so great and irreparable losse; and although Herod had excu­sed himself of that horrid murther, before M. An­thony, yet he was not so innocent, but that every bo­dy had cause sufficient to deem him guilty; and Alexandra and her daughter had grounds enough to suspect him for that barbarous butcherie. It was in this conjuncture of affairs, that I arrived at the Court of Herod, and I my self was sufficiently sa­tisfied with the reasons that the Queen had to detest the cruelty of the King her husband, when most un­fortunately I cast my eys on that divine Princesse. The beauty of Mariama was not such, that a man might behold without great admiration and danger: never was there any thing so perfect, although I must con­fesse, that untill then, I thought that no beauty could have surpassed that of the Princesse Cleopatra. Those who made enquiry and search after the most-exqui­site beauties of the world, for to make their report to M. Anthony, did publickly declare, that she ex­ceeded all whatsoever; and to say truly Madam, I cannot make a better or more lively description of her, than by telling you that she can be equalled by none but your self, and the young Princesse Cleopatra, daughter of the great and unfortunate Cleopatra. The modestie of the Queen caused her to blush at [Page 21] these words, and therefore interrupting Tiridate, she told him, that he had not so much vanity as to beleeve that her beauty was comparable to that of Mari­ama; for said she, that Queen is better known to me than you are aware of, and we have oftentimes seen in our Court as wel her picture as that of the young Prince Aristobulus her brother, and have looked on them as the most admirable Workmanship of na­ture. Its true replied Tiridate, that the Princesse Alexandra their mother, delighting (as other wo­men usually doe) in her childrens rare beauties, cau­sed severall pictures to be drawn of them both, which she sent to divers places in the world. But Madam, if it had been possible for the Painter to have so much skill, as to represent the beauty of the mind, as well as of the body, you had then seen far greater wonders than those you speak of; all that ever was yet said of the most approved vertue, hath been nothing in comparison of that of Mariama; and amongst those many and great occasions which she hath had to shew it, there hath been none that hath been considered without admiration; her Constancy hath manifested it self in her afflictions, and her Patience, in her persecutions, all which shee hath endured without the least semblance of murmuring, and the exceeding height of her spirit hath been made appear, by her suffering a hus­band, whom she had so great reason to hate and ab­hor; in fine, amidst all the attachments of wicked fortune, and all the outrages which she had recei­ved from him, which were sufficient to have alie­nated the affection of any person, she remained stable and firm, without committing any act beneath the [Page 22] greatness of her spirit. And since Mariama was such a one, it was impossible for Tiridate to hold from ca­sting his affection on her, since he had a heart suscep­tible of the impressions of love, and sense enough to discern the Divine qualities, and rare perfections of Mariama. Was it possible for me, to defend my self against all this strength, by means of any vertue of mine, whereas it was that same vertue which in part gave life and being to my passion, and amongst all the thoughts which it inspired into me, there was not any one that might be censured as unlawfull. I loved Meriama, not because I had hopes of making any progresse with her any way tending to her dishonour, or stayning her rare vertues, but because love could not make use of more forcible weapons than hers, for to make it self master of me. And indeed, I loved Ma­riama, because it was impossible for me, either to see her, or know her, and not to love her; yet I must con­fess my spirits did not presently yeeld and give way, without some endeavours of resistance. For at the first dawning of my love, I opposed the difficulties that I should meet with, in bringing about any design what­soever, the danger into which I should precipitate my self, together with the remembrance of the duty I ought to bear towards my protector: but all these considerations were too weak and feeble for my de­fence, and one word, or one look of Mariama, would destroy in a moment all that I had found for my sa­tisfactions, in three moneths. I overcame the difficul­ties, by representing to my self the glory that I should get in the conquest of them; I sleighted the perill and danger, for that I esteemed little of my life, and I excused my self towards Herod, by the violence [Page 23] that Mariama used against me, since my love was not an effect of my will; and further Madam, I must needs confess, I lulled my self as it were asleep, with hopes of introducing my self into the affections, and good opinion of the Queen, by reason of that lawfull cause of aversion, which she had for the King; and see­ing that the love of a woman to her husband is founded either upon an inclination, or merit, or ob­ligation, which is the greatest obstacle in the attain­ing the ends of a lover, and finding the Queen to be freed from all these incumbrances, so that she could not defend her self against my attempts, but upon considerations of her own, or fear to offend that hus­band who had merited the greatest affront that shee could possibly put upon him. Likewise, from that time I began to entertain thoughts of his crueltie, And that passion, which is sufficient to corrupt the the most pure inclinations made me to be ungrate­full to my benefactor, for that it made me to look on him, not as one that had protected me against my brothers cruelty, but as a person who had murthered the Brother, Father, and Uncles of Mariama; Yea, and that which was the greatest of all, I considered him, as one who enjoyed Mariama her helf; My jea­lousie, joyning it self, with the resentments I had of his ill carriage, made me oftentimes sighingly to say, that the favours of that fair Queen, had been more fitly bestowed, and onely lawfully due to that man who should purchase them by his best service, and dearest blood, rather than on him who had ac­quired them by cruelty and outragious violence. These beginnings of my love, were entertained with much pleasure, and contentment, without any repre­sentation [Page 24] of those cruell Ideas of Torments, which I have since undergone: but as soon as love had taken up a full and absolute Possession of my heart, it left me no liberty at all, all my thoughts, words, and a­ctions, tended to no other Centre than that of Mari­ama, and even my sleep it self, (which is ordained for the refreshing of our bodies) did not keep me in grea­ter freedome, than whilst I was waking; For that whilst the eyes of my body were shut, the rare perfe­ctlons of Mariama were largely represented to the eyes of my mind. This perpetuall agitation in my thoughts produced such effects, that were suddenly taken notice off, both by my conversation and coun­tenance (notwithstanding the care which I took in concealing the naturall cause of it) my profound me­lanchnly, and palenesse of my face which was not naturall to me, was sufficiently observed, and the change of my humour and health was much enquired into. Arsanus and my Governour, who were privie to all my other actions, and intentions of neerest con­cernment, were wholly ignorant of this design, and indeed, I endevoured to mask it as much as I was able, rather for the respect which I had to the cause of my passion, than for my passion it self, or for any doubt I had of their affection or fidelity: in the mean time I had the freedome and happinesse to see the Queen every day with much Facilitie; And the Hopes which Herod had to revenge himself on the King of the Parthes, by my means, made him to sweeten his Rigid humour, and bestow upon me a very friendly entertainment; a thousand times, I had my mouth open before that adorable Princesse, not to declare to her openly my Passion, not daring to take so great li­bertie, [Page 25] before that vertue which made all my joynts to tremble; but truly to let her know, that of all men in the world, there was not any one who did more passionately interest himself in her fortune, or did more earnestly desire to expose his life to the grea­test dangers, for the Purchasing of her solagement and content; but I alwayes cut off my self short in this design, and was in her presence surrounded with all those fears that doe accompany the most timo­rous and dastardly Souldiers, at the sight of the ap­proching enemies; Neverthelesse, I did not stick to tell her that with my eyes, which I durst not discover to her with my tongue, but as soon as shee did cast her eyes on mine, and surprised them in the action, my re­solution and assurance suddenly vanished, and so by means of want of force to endure that lightning which dazled them, and by reason being surprised in that crime, they would presently abase themselves to the feet of that fair Princesse, and by that submissive action, crave pardon for so great a presumption. The Qeen had suddenly perceived the truth of my intenti­ons, if she had not been wholly taken up with cruell thoughts and cares, that would not permit her to take an exact view of my actions. I was one day in her company, at the House of Alexandra her mother, and for that the Queen, in regard of the good opini­on which she had of me, began to confide much in mee; Alexandra, who was of a more turbulent spirit, and a humour not so sweet and patient as the Queen her Daughter, gave her self up to the resent­ment which she had then very fresh for the death of Aristobulus, and exclamed most violently against the cruelty of Herod, and deplored the lamentable [Page 26] condition of her self and Daughter, with words full of fire and transportation; And then from the cruel­tie which he had used to her dear Son and neerest kin­dred, shee fell to inveigh bitterly against his jealousie, and the bloody effects that it produced, when he gave expresse order to his Uncle Joseph (before hee under­took his voyage to meet with M. Anthony) to dis­patch his Wife out of the world, in case any ill acci­dent should happen to him during his absence; Alex­andra enumerated many other cruell acts of her Son-in-law; during which time, the Queen never opened her lips, but onely accompanied her Mothers expres­sions, with redoubled sighs, and many christall tears which seemed to adorn her admirable beautie; but alas! at this sight my wounds were very much enlar­ged; And when I looked on my fair Queen in that posture and condition, I had much adoe to keep my self from falling into an extasie, neither was I able to refrain from discovering my thoughts any longer, but forgetting all considerations of my condition, or remembrance of the danger into which I should pre­cipitate my self by irritating Herod against mee, I abandoned my self to the motions of my passion, and casting my wet eyes upon those of the Queen, which had been a long time fixed on the ground, Good Gods cried I, is it possible that you should subject her to so great injuries, whom you have so excellently formed? and am I indebted to that man for my pro­tection, whom I have so just a cause to hate and ab­horre? I repented immediatly that I had spoken so freely, fearing lest I had made too clear a discoverie; and afterwards considering that I was heard onely by the two Princesses, and that they seemed not to take [Page 27] much notice of what I had said, I began to recover my spirits and assurance; and then the Princesse A­lexandra being retired to the other end of the room to talk with some company, and seeing my self alone with the Queen, I strugled hard with my timorous­ness for to continue on my former discourse, and see­ing the christall tears yet dropping from her fair face, I spake in this sort, Would to God Madam, said I, that I were able by shedding of my dearest bloud, to stop that course of tears which you shed: Ah! how wil­lingly would I poure it forth, and with how much de­sire would I sacrifise my life for the quiet and repose of yours. These passionate expressions were by the Queen attributed to proceed from the compassion which I had for her misfortunes, nevertheless they did awaken her from that profound consideration of her miseries, which had for some time wholly taken up her thoughts, insomuch that lifting up her eyes, and looking directly upon me, she spake unto me in a ve­ry mild and thankfull tone; I should be extremely sorry, said she, to purchase my own contentment and tranquilitie, with the danger of your life; and those miseries that I suffer are better due to me, than your discontentments: we are both of us grievously persecu­ted, you by a brother, and I by a husband, but although I cannot disapprove your resentments, yet I cannot lawfully entertain them against my husband; though by his actions he doth make mee most unfortunate, yet I think the Heavens doe make use of him as an instru­ment for the punishment of my faults. O wonderfull vertue! said I, interrupting her, must I by a further knowledge of you, receive a redoubling of my wounds, and see you exposed to so many miseries? [Page 28] my afflictions are supportable, replied the Queen, if you did rightly consider them, and if the God which I worship was known to you, you would likewise know that amongst my sufferings, I find such conso­lations, that you cannot now understand; for if he hath given me Herod, either for a scourge, or a hus­band, I ought to receive him, both for the one and the other: and since he hath commanded me to par­don the injuries of the most cruell enemies, it is his pleasure likewise that I should wholly forget those, which I shall receive from him whom it pleased him to give me for a husband. Its for this Madam, replied I, that I esteem my condition most unfortu­nate; for the heavens have not raised you up such an enemy or persecutor, against whom I may lawfully offer you my sword and life without trespassing on your vertue: and these great effects of it cannot be resisted by him who doth so much reverence it. I cannot likewise disapprove those considerations which you have for the King your Husband, since that its between his arms that I have found shelter and refuge, and without great ingratitude I cannot attempt any thing to his disadvantage; but if the part which I take in your displeasures, and the admi­ration which I have of your vertue, and other dee­per considerations, doe make me to find a subject in your afflictions— I staied at these words, and con­sidering that my passion had transported me insensibly beyond my bounds, and made me to use expressions enough to discover my thoughts, I remained silent, very abruptly, without making any sensible conclusion to what I had said. The Queen, observing my silence, looked earnestly upon me, ei­ther [Page 29] expecting a conclusion of my discourse, or with an intention to aske the cause of my hasty silence; but the Princesse her mother comming towards us, freed me of that inconvenience into which my im­prudence had then cast me; we might neverthelesse have continued on this discourse, had we not been interrupted by the arrivall of divers other Ladies, The chief of them was Soloma Sister to Herod, who for no friendship or affection came to visit those Prin­cesses, she having alwaies declared her self their mor­tall enemy; but she having a subtle and artificiall tongue of her own, made use of it upon all occasions for her own interests, and she knowing the power that Mariama had with Herod (notwithstanding her misfortunes) seemed very officious, and endeavou­red to palliate her malicious thoughts with a black dissimulation; the malice which she bore to the Queen was heightned by means of some accidents, where­with I shall acquaint you; and since you have enjoy­ned me to declare the naked truth of my fortune, I am inforced to tell you Madam, (although that in this discourse I shall trespasse upon my modestie) yet by reason of my great misfortune, and for no o­ther occasion I was loved by Soloma: I had then dis­covered her affection by many tokens, but I made no account of it, whether it was because my affections were wholly taken up with a subject, whose mea­nest part did far excell that which was most lovely in Soloma, or because I was then a little acquainted with her artificiall humor, or whatsoever was the cause of it, sure I am, that I satisfied my self in an­swering the extraordinary favours which I received from her, with those civilities only which I concei­ved [Page 30] were due to the Sister of Herod; but for rhat day she hindred me from having any further discourse with the Queen, but the day following I had liberty enough to entertain her (for that her Court and at­tendance was small, and every body refrained her Companie for fear of offending the King) yet a­mongst all my discourses, fear had so bound up my tongue, that I had not the confidence to discover my thoughts otherwise than by amorous looks, and changing my countenance. During this time, Herod, who had courreously treated me either from gene­rositie and noblenesse, or for the causes before men­tioned, offered me an occasion to advance my credit with him: For Maliolus who commanded the A­rabians, falling upon his Country, had done him much spoil and mischief, which caused Herod in all haste to rally his scattered Army, and being not able to command them in person, in regard of his inten­ded voyage to the Emperour, he gave the whole charge of the Armie to Pherorus his brother: and I being ashamed, that I had spent all my youth in avoyding dangers, desired the King to give me leave to accompany his brother in this expedition, which he not only granted me, but gave me the whole com­mand of the Cavalrie. I marched away, well con­tented with the Kings favours, and comforted my self against the grief which I had to forsake Maria­ma, with hopes of meriting her favour by some Heroicall action. I shall not spend time in telling you all particular passages that hapned during this war, but shall only acquaint you, that the excesse of good fortune did so favour me, that I acquired repu­tation enough in every encounter with the enemie, in [Page 31] fine, I routed and scattered the whole Armie of Arabs, by which means I gained as much credit in the Army as I could desire, & indeed Herod himself had so great an opinion of my behaviour, that being a while after enforced to call home Pherorus, to take upon him the Government of the Kingdom, during his absence on his voyage, it was his pleasure to make me Generall and Commander in chief of the whole Army, and put more confidence in me, notwithstanding my young age, and forraign alliance, than in his most experien­ced old Captains: I commanded alone, after the de­parture of Pherorus, and the same fortune that fa­voured me in the beginning, seconded me so well afterwards, that in a very short time I had cleered all Judea, from the plundring Arabs, after I had slain about twenty thousand of them in severall encoun­ters: as soon as all differences were composed, and affairs setled upon the frontiers, and that we had no more enemies to fight with, after that I had fortified the Garrisons on the frontiers, I hastned towards Hierusalem, not so much delighted, with the prai­ses and thanks which I expected for my good ser­vice, as with the hopes which I had to see Mariama very suddainly, and to see her at such a time, as I might look on her with honour, in regard of the ser­vice I had done for her Country: But good Gods, with what horrid news was I surprised, before I had gone the half of my journy; as that Herod was gone to meet with Augustus at Rhodes, for to labour with him to introduct himself with his good opinion, as he had done before with M. Antony, and that before he went he had caused Hircanus the Queens aged Uncle to be strangled, and that he had im­prisoned [Page 32] the Queen with her Mother in a Castle neer the town, under the cōmand of Sohemus and Josephus, to whom he had given strict orders for their safe keep­ing, without permitting any person to see or speak with them during his absence. This newes did not onely allay the contentment which I had for my re­turn, and the happy success of my voyage, but it fil­led me with astonishment, horrour and compassion; I admired at the crueltie of Herod, who although he held his life and Scepter from the goodnesse of Hircanus, yet had not the patience to expect the natu­ral end of him, who was already above 80. years of age; the pitty I had for the persecuted and afflicted Ma­riama was so great, that I was like to have sunk un­der it. Arsanus and my Governour Politus percei­ving me much troubled, earnestly desired me to ac­quaint them with the true cause thereof: I refused for some time to grant them their desire, but afterwards considering the little reason which I had to mistrust them, after so many testimonies of their affection, I communicated unto them my most secret thoughts, and declared unto them the violent passion which I had for Mariama; this acknowledgement did very much surprize them, although they needed not to have wondred so much at it, since they were no way igno­rant of the charming beautie of the Queen, and after they had urged to me all the reason and argument which they conceived was sufficient to make me change my opinion & resolution, they readily resolved to serve me upon this occasion to the hazzard of their lives. I was not a little refreshed with those new pro­testations of service, conceiving that their good coun­sells would much avail me in the management of my [Page 33] business; and so continuing on my journey, I passed over that little way which I had to goe, in a very deep melancholy. When I arrived at Jerusalem, the Honourable reception which I had by Pherorus, and all the Jewish people, did no way moderate my dis­pleasures. What (said I, when I was alone, or in company onely with those two to whom I had entru­sted my secrets) Mariama who of her self maketh all libertie to shake, is now become a Captive, and the Gods doe permit their greatest Master-piece to bee unjustly exposed to the crueltie of a barbarous wretch. Mariama now condoles the loss of her libertie, with that of her Uncle, and the powerless Tiridate doth onely lament with her, without affording her any o­ther succours; he remaineth quiet with his arms cros­sed, whilst those monsters tear him in pieces, in afflict­ing the person of Mariama, and weak and slender considerations doe hinder him from arming himself against his executioner. Ah Tiger! a thousand times more cruell than Phraatus, my enemy rather than my protector; unworthy monster, a thousand times un­worthy of those advantages which thou enjoyest, doe not trust any longer to that obligation, which untill now hath linked me to thy interests, and belief that thou dost me a farre less favour, in protecting me against my brother, than thou doest me injury in pro­secuting Mariama. I am resolved to take up arms in her defence, as well against thee, as all the world be­besides, and I shall not be taxed for ingratitude in de­fending a vertue unworthily oppressed by a Tyranni­call power. These were the effects of my passion, and by that last act of crueltie of Herod, my spirit was so estranged from all consideration which I had for him, [Page 34] that I did not scruple to doe him any mischief, so that it might tend either for the service or revenge of Maiiama-Arsanus (to whom I discovered my thoughts) earnestly desired me to dissemble them, for that he conceived my utter ruine would attend the discovery of them, and yet Mariama would not re­ceive any benefit by it; but in the mean time I told him, that it was impossible for me to live without see­ing her, and that I was resolved to try all wayes, how dangerous soever, for the satisfying of my longing desire. Arsanus for a long time opposed this inten­tion, but seeing that he could by no means diswade me from it, he attempted all wayes for to serve me in it; hee was well acquainted with Sohemus, and I re­membred that I had done him many good offices with Herod, upon occasions wherein he had use of my fa­vours; and this made Arsanus believe that he could probably obtain that from him, which I so much longed after, and indeed the successe was better than we could imagine. Mariama (whose charms were so great, that it was impossible for any man to defend himself against them) had so farre wrought upon the affections of Sohemus, that his greatest ambition was to please her, and indeed, he would have been ready to serve her, with the hazzard of his life and fortune; he had long since endeavoured to free her from her imprisonment, and set her at libertie, to retire whither shee had pleased, if he had not had a companion in his charge of a different disposition from his, and who would very unwillingly doe any act that might occa­sion the displeasure of Herod. Upon the first motion that Arsanus made to him, for to permit me to see the Queen, Hee affirmed a great willingnesse to [Page 35] oblige me, and stuck on nothing but the means to de­ceive his companion, for that hee had no hopes of drawing him to give mee that satisfaction, neither durst he propose it to him: Arsanus cloaked the de­sire that I had to see the Queen, with a pretence of compassion which I had for her sufferings, and so by his subtiltie made this bold effect of my passion, to passe for a meer act of Generosity; Sohemus desired the remainder of that day for to put things in order for to content mee, and the next day he told him that he was resolved to satisfie my desire notwithstanding the danger of the enterprise: Arsanus intreated him not to discover the design to the Queen, for fear, said he, lest she should oppose it upon some weak conside­rations, and it was upon this that. Sohemus seemed most of all to demurre, but afterwards being over­come with the belief that he had, that my intentions were onely to doe the Queen service, and that I would not have sought after such dangerous opportunities to see her, if I thought my sight would be displeasing to her. In fine, they concluded that towards the eve­ning I should not fail to meet Sohemus at a certain hour neer the Castle, where he promised to be, for to conduct me to the Queen; he made choice of that time, because the Queen was then most at libertie, and for that he might be freed from any interruption from Josephus, who would be then retired to his own house, and besides, I was so well known to all the Court, that it had been very difficult for me to have concealed my self during the day light. I ran a great hazard in that enterprise, as well in regard of the dan­ger that might have happened at the same time, as also in regard of the consequence of it, if Herod [Page 36] should chance to be informed of the business; but all these considerations were slighted by me, and I wai­ted for the desired hour, with so much impatience, that I thought every minute a twelmoneth untill the time came. In Fine, I went out of Jerusalem in the dusk of the Evening, attended on by Arsanus and my Governour, and having not far to goe, I sud­denly arrived at the place appointed, Sohemus failed not to meet me, according to his promise, and for that he had that day the sole command of the Castle, and consequently free libertie of egresse and regresse, he came to meet me accompanied with a Gentleman of the guard, of whose fidelitie hee was well assured, he had made choice of him the rather, for that he was about my age and stature, and therefore perswaded me to change clothes with him, and during our ab­sence this young man was to remain with my com­pany, that so I might pass in along with him as the same man that came sorth with him. All things hap­pened according to our expectation and desire, for hee conducting me to the Gate of the Castle which was flanked with great Towres, and invironed with large Ditches, caused the Draw-bridge to be let down upon giving of the token, and then leading me into the Court without any lights (for that he had before his going forth of the Castle expresly commanded that none should be lighted) I followed him up a back stair (for that he would not adventure to bring me through the main guards) and then through a gal­lerie, where was placed one Centinell, which he sud­denly removed, feigning to put me in his room, and thence he brought me to the dore of the Anticham­ber. I must confess, that at that instant all my spirits [Page 37] left me, and although I did not value the danger of my person, yet I trembled for fear lest this unex­pected visit should have been displeasing to the Queen, insomuch that making an untimely reflexion on the businesse, I was about to have staied Sohemus, and have returned by the way I came in, without daring to see the Queen. The dore of the Anti­chamber was immediatly set open at the naming of Sohemus, for that in regard of the great affection which he had expressed in the service of the Queen, he had free libertie to visit her at all hours. When we first came into her Chamber, she was on her Knees by her Bed side, where she prayed with great devotion to the God which she served, and the Prin­cesse Alexandra her mother was retired into her closet; upon the noise that we made as we came, she looking towards us, asked of Sohemus whether he had any businesse with her; I did not give time to Sohemus to make any replie, but going to her in a very disorderly posture, fell on my knees by her, and then taking one of her fair hands, kissed it with so much devotion, that it took away the use of my tongue: The Queen conceiving this action to be too familiar and passionat for her Keeper, pushed me of at the first with some disdain; but afterwards part­ly suspecting the truth, looked so intently upon me, that with the help of the lighted torches, she pre­sently knew me; her amazement was not ordinary at this sight, which caused her to withdraw her hand from me and retire two or three steps, and then spake to me, as followeth. Ah! Tiridate said she, what doe you think upon? what danger doe you run your self into? what danger replyed I, would to God Ma­dam, [Page 38] that there was a thousand times more, so that I might only find an occasion thereby to demon­strate unto you how much I should undervalue it for your service: I am too much obliged replied the Queen (making me rise) to the compassion that you have for my miseries; but I can by no means shake off that fear which you put me into, and the experi­rience I have had of the suspicious humor of Herod, makes me to wish from my heart, that you had not taken the advantage of so perillous an occasion to see me. I beseech you Madam to fear nothing for me, said I and be pleased to believe that in this condi­tion that your misfortunes have cast you, I doe not value the hatred of Herod, nor desire his friendship. I have heretofore looked on him as a King, to whom I was indebted for my life, but at present I consider him as no other than a man who hath made my life a thousand times more cruell than that death from which he hath preserved me by the assyle and refuge he hath afforded me: untill now those obligations disputed against his outrages, and in the person of Mariamas prosecutor I found that of my prote­ctor, but in fine Madam, these thoughts of acknow­ledgement doe give place to more lawfull resent­ments, and these last acts of crueltie, viz. The mur­der of your Uncle, and this strict captivity, have quite choakt all other considerations, which hitherto have disputed for him within me, & that makes me to pre­sume to desire from you such orders which I shall exe­cute without any condition or reservation; do not fear therefore Madam to command me to undertake any employment whereby I may serve you, and be plea­sed to beleeve that I shall not only winck at all other [Page 39] considerations, but that there can be no Remora or obstacle, that may hinder me from executing any de­sign, when I am fortified with the honour of your commands. Whilst I spake after this sort, the Queen observed me with very great attention, and although she was well acquainted with the malicious humour of the King her husband, and remembred well how of­ten she had been abused in that kind by divers persons, who under pretence of officiousnesse, and protestati­ons of service, had onely an intention to sound her in­clinations, and then to make report thereof to the King; yet it was my happinesse, not to be suspected by her of any such businesse, and she gave me to un­derstand so much by these following words: I have too good an opinion of you, said she, and I can too well distinguish between Princes of the blood of Arsaces, and men of servile and embased spirits, to accuse you of that dissimulation and treachery, which I have by sad experience found amongst many of them who have betrayed me; I know well, that those expressions you have been pleased to use in re­lation to my present condition, doe proceed from no other sourse, than a reall compassion, and a Gene­rous inclination, which is never wanting to men of your birth; you have heretofore given me too many assurances of your great vertue, for to leave any sha­dow of such a suspition; and for the further demon­stration of the confidence which I repose in you I shall with much freedome and willingnesse disclose to you my greatest secrets: Its most true, that I can by no means affect Herod, although the heavens have given him me for a husband, and I should be accounted rather insensible then Constant, if the losse [Page 40] of my Father Alexander, my Uncles Aristobulus, Antigonus and Hircanus, with my dear brother Aristobulus, could be remembred by me without a just resentment against their Murtherer, and the destroyer of the Royall family of the Hesmoneans; and moreover besides these great and notorious in­juries, I have received some more particular, which I can no lesse forget than the former; I am every day in expectation to have my throat cut, and the cruell wretch before his voyage to Rhodes, did give the same command to Sohemus, which heretofore his Uncle Joseph received from him upon another occasion, which was to dispatch me out of the world, in case any sinister accident should befall him during his ab­sence. I have now with much freedom given you the estate of my condition with Herod, yet I must tell you with the like libertie that as cruell as he is, he is notwithstanding my husband, and that the resent­ments that I have against him are not greater than the rules of my duty, and I can by no means desire that vengeance to befall him, which undoubtedly the heavens have reserved for him: by this you may perceive Tiridate my present condition and resolu­tion whereupon I am obliged to you, for that you are pleased to interest your self so much in my mis­fortunes, but I beseech you Sir so to behave your self for the future, that this passion may not prove fatall to you. Ha! would to God said I, that your miseries might determine with the most cruell death that Herod can possibly inflict on me. Oh, with how much cheerfulnesse would I embrace those glorious torments, which might make me worthy of some little remembrance in your memory, and how happy [Page 41] would my destinie be, if I should give my life to that adorable Princesse, to whom all the lives and souls of the whole world ought to be sacrifised. These words, together with the passionat action wherewith they were accompanied, opened the Queens eys, and gave her to understand (by a prompt reflexion on my for­mer behaviour) that those violent transports did not proceed from a naked compassion only, which sus­pition caused her to blush, but after she had looked on me for some time without speaking, in a very confused manner, in conclusion she said, Tiridate, think well on what you have said; these words were pronounced in such a tone, that I presently lost my assurance and power to make any reply, and consi­dering how indiscreetly I had discovered my self, and that I could no longer mask my passion, and upon these considerations being transported with love, sorrow and despair, I cast my self at the feet of the Queen, which I embraced and kissed a thousand times, without any power to open my lips, and so by those actions did strongly confirm that which she before understood from my mouth; and indeed she was most sensibly touched with it, and her first re­sentments were very violent for a person of so sweet a constitution: she balanced for some time upon the resolution she should take up, which time I employ­ed to gain force and recover my assurance. Madam, said I, (lying at her feet, without daring to look on her face) if my mouth have betrayed my heart, and if it hath discovered to you against my intention, that passion which I would have kept secret all my life time, be pleased to inflict upon me those punish­ments which I deserve, and I protest unto you, that [Page 42] I shall most readily and without murmuring submit unto them; I shall not goe about to justifie that passion, which in regard of its purity might elsewhere find some excuse: I shall not tell you that its im­possible for me to see you, without falling into the fault which I have committed▪ or that some years silence have given you some testimony of my respect; I am guiltie, if I have drawn on me your anger, and am worthy of the most cruell punishments in attemp­ting your displeasure. I had continued on my dis­course, if the Queen (being by that time resolved) had not interrupted me, who (thrusting me away with one hand, whilst she held the other before her face, to hide changings of her continuance) said un­to me, Tiridate, you are more culpable than you imagine, and if you had well known me, you had not taken upon you so great a freedom, in giving me that offence, which I even now received from you; I shall not goe about to publish your follie to the world, in regard I am so well satisfied with the hu­mour of Herod, that I am confident your ruin would be thereby occasioned, for even as I pardon those bloody injuries which I daily receive from him, in the same manner doe I now remit the crime which you lately committed: when she had said thus, she rose from her chair, and called for Sohemus (who was entertaining her maids in the adjoyning cham­ber) and commanded him to conduct me forth im­mediatly, and then without suffering me to reply, she retired her self hastily into the closet, where her mother had for some time expected her company: Good God? in what condition did I then find my self in? and in what posture did I then follow Sohemus, [Page 43] who conducted me out of the Castle, by the same way that we came in: I may say truly, that he had not one word from me, and indeed I had scarce the pow­er to embrace him, and return him thanks for the curtesie he had done me: being gone forth, I pre­sently found my servants, and mounted on horse­back, and so hastened into the City, but in a me­lancholly more dark than the night, and with a countenance not much unlike a condemned person: I could not much heed the consolations of Arsa­nus, to whom I communicated my disaster, but past over that whole night, in the greatest sadnesse as was possible for any soul to endure: I could no sooner call to mind the angry looks of my Princesse; but I was surrounded with the same terror that possessed me, upon the signification of her displeasure: neither could I think on the displeasure I had done her, with­out a very great affliction; all the words which she spake came fresh into my memory, but I must like­wise confesse, that I was not a little troubled, when I considered, that the offence which I committed, was put in balance with those horrid outrages which she had received from Herod. Ah! unjust Maria­ma, said I then, that you can no better distinguish between injuries, for certainly did you well con­sider it, you would find a vast disproportion, between the injuries of Herod, and the offence which Tiridate hath committed: Herod hath usurped a crown which belonged to your family, Herod is died red with the blood of your nearest kindred, nay hee doth not stick to give new or­ders, upon all occasions, for your own death and destruction; whereas Tiridate gives you the [Page 44] Possession and disposall of his heart and soul, and all that he hath; truly this crime is not of the same heinousness, as those tbat you have received from that cruell wretch, neither can I conceive that the same patience is requisite to undergoe it; but where­fore, said I then, interrupting my self, wherefore? Should I goe about to justifie my self, since its too true, that by my own temerity I have merited the displeasure of Mariama; I ought to look on her as a Deitie exalted above any humane thoughts or pre­tensions, I ought to tremble before her vertue, and although it be impossible to see those rare beauties without loving them, yet I should have suffered those glorious torments without making any disco­verie of them, and have forborn to draw upon mee such a misfortune by a sudden and unadvised discove­ry of my passions. In these and such like thoughts I passed away the remaining part of that night, and many more dayes following, during which time I saw oftentimes Soloma, Pherorus, and others of the chief Personages of the Court of Judea, who tired me with their thankfull entertainments for the service I had done their Countrey; but neither their compa­nies, nor extraordinary favours could divert those afflictions which my love made me to suffer, nor allay the displeasure which I had for the captivity of Mariama; but by this time newes came to Hie­rusalem of the triumphant return of Herod from Augustus, and how that by a charming Speech and artificiall carriage full of affected generositie, he had so wrought upon that great Emperour, that he not onely received courteous entertainment from him, but recei­ved as great expressions and assurances of friendship, [Page 45] as ever he had formerly had from M. Anthony, so that all those who were interessed in his good suc­cesses, were much rejoyced at it; not long after Herod arrived at the Town with a great train of attendance, and a joyfull countenance, which manifested suffici­ently the satisfaction which hee had received by his voyage: a great and pompous reception he had, and I my self was one of those who went forth to meet him; assoon as he saw me, hee hastened to me, and embracing me, called me the valiant and Heroick defender of Judea, and made me large promises of recompence for the services which I had done the State. But alas! how mis-sensible and careless I was of his curtesies and civilities! and although I knew my self obliged to him, yet the love which I bare Mariama, and the resentment of those injuries which he had offred her, carried me above all those obligations; he was no sooner arrived but he thought on her libertie, and being desirous to see her, went forthwith to the prison, where he spent all the follow­ing night, and from whence the next day he conducted her into the Citie, with all demonstrations of an ar­dent affection. I have since understood from Hirca­nus, that upon the first view he used many passionate expressions to her, for after that he had excused the death of Hircanus, telling her that he was necessitated so to doe for the prevention of a design which hee well understood he intended for his ruine; hee prote­sted that the sole end of her formall imprisonment, was for the safeguard of her person, against whom he was fearfull that some persons disaffected might at­tempt some mischief, or else lest that the seditious multitude might in his absence make use of her and [Page 46] her Mother, (whose spirit he knew was sufficiently turbulent) for the countenancing of a rebellion. The wise Queen heard this discourse with much modera­tion, and although she could not wholly conceal her thoughts, yet shee dissembled them in part, lest the discoverie thereof should cause as direfull e­ffects to Sohemus, as formerly to Joseph. The Court was at this time in its greatest glory, for the King being well satisfied with the good success of his affairs, and having nothing to contest with, but the spirit of Mariama, sought all occasions to divert and please her; but if the Queen (whose griefes had pe­netrated too deep for to receive refreshments from such vain shadows of pleasure) was not much affe­cted with it, Sure I am, that I was altogether as un­capable of any rejoycing, and I had so well with my love engraved on my spirit the remembrance of her displeasure, that all the magnificence and pomp of the Court of Herod was not sufficient to give me the least divertisement. I saw my Princess every day, for that libertie was not then denied me by her, but I had not the courage to speak in her presence, neither durst I to look her in the face, so that by all my actions I did discover unto her how greatly I feared to displease her; but it was neither by her looks or her carriage towards me, that I could perceive any marks of an aversion; Shee had too sweet a disposition, and her inclinations were too good for to permit her to hate a man that was guiltie of no other crime but of loving her, since she had much adoe to hate those who had merited her displeasure by horrid and execrable mur­thers; but since she believed that she could not suffer the testifications of my affection without injuring [Page 47] her vertue, she avoided all occasions of receiving them, as much as was possible for her, and although she alwaies spake very pleasantly to me, yet it was alwaies before company, and indeed she so ordered the matter, that I could never be in her company, when she was by her self; her carriage towards me, although it gave me no compleat satisfaction, yet it left me no cause to complain, and the knowledge I had of her admirable vertues, having in part extin­guished together with my hopes, a part of those de­sires which her beauty had occasioned, I found my passion sufficiently satisfied, and recompenced with the esteem that she had of me. And truly I may safely say, that never man loved so purely, as I loved Ma­riama for the love of her self onely; and in all the course of my passion, I never once considered the per­son of Tiridate. I spent a whole year after this sort, and although my eyes were the onely Embassadours of my love, yet she well perceived by all my actions, that the violence of it was no way diminished, and that it was the respect which I bore her, that occasio­ned my greatest suffering. In fine, my perseverance accompanied with a discretion (which she well per­ceived every day by a thousand marks) touched her with compassion, I say compassion, for that love had never the power to make any impression on her spirit; and all that she did in my favour, proceeded onely from an inclination purely generous; her heart which was made neither of Marble nor Brasse, suffered it self to be softned with Pitty, but yet never capable of any impression swerving from the most severe rules of her duty. She could not look on a languishing Prince many years, and a Prince not onely dying for her, but [Page 48] dying in such a respectfull and obliging sort, and dying without complaining of the cause of his death, with­out giving way to those resentments which he natural­ly should have, but yet she had rather let him dye, yea and die her self too, than entertain the least thought of giving him any comfort that might prejudice her ver­tue. I was so fortunate in the conduct of my passion, and so cautelous in all my actions, that notwithstan­ding the extraordinary jealousie of Herod, I gave him not the least shadow of discontent, and this discreet carriage did produce no small effects on the Queens spirit; I happened to be one day with her, the King, Soloma, and Pherorus, and some other of the chief of the Court, in the Palace Garden, where walking for some time, I endeavoured as much as possibly I could to dis-intangle my self from Soloma, who at that time had a spirit too high for to declare to me openly her passion, and therefore sought to make me under­stand her inclinations by her behaviour, accompanied with many ambitious discourses. It happened that the King (having walked for some time with the Queen alone, was enforced to retire himself for the dispatch of some important businesse) called me to him, and presented to me the Queens fair hand, using these words, I leave you, said he, to Prince Tiridate, and I cannot put that which I love more than my self, into better hands; endeavour, said he to me, if you can, to divert her from her deep melancholy. I made no re­ply to this curteous offer, but by an action full of ac­knowledgement and respect, and considering the con­dition in which I was with the Queen, I durst not hazzard my self so much, although she offered it with a countenance and action full of sweetness; I led [Page 49] her for some time without daring to speak to her, or look on her, she continued likewise a while as silent- untill at length she took that opportunity to discover her thoughts unto me; Tiridate, said she, if the King knew your pretentions, he would not so readily put me into your hands, with so great confidence; know therefore Teridate, that if the first knowledge of your passion occasioned my displeasure, yet the continuance of it hath affected me with compassion, I cannot without pitty consider your present condition, I cannot see a Prince to whom the heavens have given so many excellent qualities, spend his time in so sad a conditi­on; but in Fine, Tiridate what are your pretentions? and if you have deemed me worthy of your esteem, what is it that you expect or hope for from me? Doe you imagin that I will give my self a libertie to satis­fie your passion in the least action, I say the least, for if I imagined that you had any hopes tending to my dishonour, I should look on you as a Monster or a mortall enemy; Doe you conceive that the little sa­tisfaction which I have from Herod, or the remem­brance of the outrages which I have received from him, can make me cast my affection on a subject, not so much deserving my aversion? Is it on such thoughts that you have founded your hopes? if it be so Tiridate, doe not abuse your self any longer, but believe, that although the heavens have made me un­fortunate in submitting me to one so cruell, yet I will not goe about to merit my misfortunes by my actions, nor link my self with Herod by my crimes, although my bad fortunes have joyned me to him in Marriage; I should be unworthy of those favours which the hea­vens have afforded me, which doe comfort me amidst [Page 50] my miseries, and I should be altogether unworthy of that esteem which you have for me. I beseech you for my sake to consider these things seriously, since I doe represent them to you with so much mildness, and with as much affection, as in reason I can shew you; strive therefore with your self, by means of the great­ness of your courage, and propose to your self this ruinous passion as an enemie which you ought to fear, and an enemy which may destroy you, and me with you, in case you get not the victory. The Queen staied at these words, which I heard with admiration and astonishment, and having during her discourse reco­vered some of the assurance which I had lost, I made use of it in returning her this answer. I am altogether unworthy, Madam, of that grace and favour which I have received from you. and since that I have merited your displeasure, and have deserved to have perished in it, without any hopes of so tender a compassion, which at this time you have manifested for me, nei­ther should I have ever attempted by any discourse of mine, to draw upon me more of your anger, if the noble goodness which accompanies your other ver­tues had not encouraged me to justifie my thoughts unto you, I will therefore take upon me the boldness to tell you, that love which cannot be either hatefull or considerable to the beloved, but by its effects, since of it self it is both obliging and advantageous in eve­ry bodies understanding▪ I say if my passion should stirre up in me desires which might ecclipse your ver­tues, you had then good cause to detest it as criminall and heynous; but so long as it inspires no other thoughts into me than those of adoring those rare qualities which the gods have so prodigally bestowed [Page 51] on you, or of interesting my self so farre in your mis­fortunes, that I should be ready to spend my dearest blood for your interests, I doe not conceive that you can in justice condemn it; is it a crime for Tiridate to adore the divine beautie and perfection of Mariamne. And is it a crime for Tiridate to desire an occasion to purchase with his blood, the repose and quiet of Ma­riamne? if I have any other thoughts, Madam, or any other desires, punish them, I pray you, with all the rigour that your first anger could inspire into you, and let the Gods unite their forces with yours, for to make me the most unfortunate of all men living, but if a­midst those considerations which I have of you, there appears nothing but that innocence in its puritie, which you your self desire and commend, I humbly beseech you, Madam to permit me to preserve it whilst I breathe; its such a necessity, that nothing can dis­pence with, and its a favour which I beg of you, by the remembrance of all thats dear to you, and if wee were in a place freed from so great a number of wit­nesses, where I might with freedome cast my self at your feet, I professe I should not stirre from them, un­till I obtained my request. These words, together with the vehemencie and passion wherewith they were ac­companied, did somewhat touch the generous and sweet spirit of the Queen, and cast her into such thoughts as hindred for some time any reply, never­theless after a while she was disposed to return an an­swer, when as we came to the end of the ally, being turned back for to continue on our walk, we saw So­loma and divers others so neer us, that the Queen thought she should not have had an opportunitie to declare her thoughts unto me, but seeing the company [Page 52] to make a stand, to suffer us to pass by, she spake these words, before she stirred from the place; Tiridate, if your thoughts are no other, than such as you profess they are, I have no great cause to be offended with you, but although they were yet more pure and inno­cent, I should wish from my soul, and earnestly en­treat you to suppress and overcome them if it may be possible, since they will undoubtedly prove destructive both to your own and my tranquillity: shee said no more (whether it was because she would debarre me from having any further conference on a subject no way pleasing to her, or because she feared, and not without cause, that the malicious spirit of Soloma might take advantage from our long and serious con­verse, to do us a mischief) but joyned her self with the other companie, from which, at that time, shee would no more separate her self; From that time for­ward I found my condition much changed, and I thought my affairs were reduced to a more advan­tageous posture than formerly, for although the Queen seemed to disapprove my passion, and looked on the continuance of it with displeasure, yet not­withstanding she received my protestations with such a generous goodness, that she could neither banish nor hate a Prince, who loved her with so pure and dis­ingaged affection, that she had no cause to condemn it in him, and for that I never hoped to mend my for­tune, I thought I had cause sufficient to remain satisfied; I began at the same time to recover my lost spirits, and to look with a more chearfull countenance, and sure I am, that all the discontent which any body perceived to lye on mee, proceeded rather from the displeasures of the Queen, than any other [Page 53] dissatisfaction; for the condition of this great Prin­cesse was very lamentable, and although the King passionately loved her, yet the repugnance which she had, against those significations of his love, made her to receive them, as so many effects of the chol­ler of the heavens; and although her vertuous in­clinations, made her to keep her self within the most strict rules of her duty, yet her courage could not apply it self, to make much of the destroyer of her family, and a person that was freshly died with the blood of her nearest alliance; her reproaches some­times would so nearly touch the King that we were oftentimes in danger of seeing most sad effects; but afterwards his love would so sweeten him, that his furious transports would vanish and make him be­come more gentle and loving than usually, so that he would endeavour to obtain that with intreaties and tears, which his choller and menaces could not procure: We were one day in the Kings Chamber, whither he desired the Queen to come, where after some discourse by the window, which I heard not, he offered to kisse her, but the Queen (either because she conceived those embraces were not suitable to her modesty, before so great a company, or because she was moved by her lawfull disdain and aversion) retired two or three steps and turned her self from him most disdainfully, the King was so troubled at this action and carriage, and especially for that it happened before so great a company, that notwith­standing the great command he had of himself, he could not dissemble the resentment he had of it, and therefore looking earnestly on the Queen, with an enraged countenance, thou art said he altogether [Page 54] unworthy of those favours which I offer thee; and thou doest every day receive of me, get thee gone, said he, out of my Chamber, and if thou doest not remember the destiny of thy Ancestors, know that I will make thee to consider him as your King, whom you disdain to own as your husband; the Queen made no other reply to those cruell words, but by a look full of scorn and contempt, which provoked him so much the more, and so saluting all the com­pany, without changing her countenance, went forth of the Kings Chamber, for to retire her self to her own, the Kings anger which oftentimes produced most bloody effects, made all the company to trem­ble although it wrought not the same effect on me, for I had scarce the discretion to contain my self, and it was for the Queens sake, and not my own, that I strugled to overcome my passion: however I could not see her withdraw, without running after her for to lead her, but as her thoughts were lesse troubled than mine, so had she a greater proportion of discre­tion, and therefore, considering how much that offer of service might displease the King, and how by that means, I might precipitate my self into great dangers, she refused my offer, and having no opportunity to explain better her thoughts, shee commanded me with a winck of her eye to desist. I then returned hastily, but with some regret to the King, who to speak truly liked not my carriage at that time, al­though he passed it over with lesse bruit, than he would have done had any other of his subjects of­fered him the like displeasure; he continued his ray­ling discourse against the Queen for some time, and since I perceived that I could not intrust him with­out [Page 55] discovering my inclinations to no purpose, I did not undertake her defence. A few days after he was becalmed and appeased, so great a power had the love he bore to the Queen on his spirit: yet he sud­dainly relapsed into the same distemper, and all their life was spent in that continuall disorder, which may be expected from the incompatibility of vice and vertue: by this time Soloma had given me so many assurances of her affection, that I could no longer seem to be ignorant of her pretensions, and although then she had so much command of her passion, that she could forbear to declare it openly in words, yet she had expressed so much both by her speech and behaviour, that I could no longer seem to doubt thereof; I endeavoured to dissemble this discovery, by all waies possible, although I was throughly con­vinced of the reality of it; Soloma conceived right­ly, that both by her own carriage and mine, I was well acquainted with her passion, and the contempt which I had of it oftentimes occasioned a disdain, which in any body but her, would have extinguished it, It was my fortune to meet her one day at the house of Pherorus, to whom I then gave a visit, in regard of his indisposition, after that we had staied some time by his Bed, Soloma, who was desirous to entertain me in private, obliged me to walk with her into a Gallery, near to which she pretended to shew me some pictures: being not able handsomely to refuse this offer, I conducted her by the hand into the Gallery, where after we had spent sometime in discourse of the pictures, in which were represented many memorable accidents of the Jewish history, where to say truly, she shewed me most admirable [Page 56] things, which cannot be believed by those that dif­fer in Religion from them; amongst others shee shewed me those Captains who amidst a battell, by their prayers, made the Sun to stop in its course, and others that dammed up the torrent of the red Sea, that so their party might passe through; but she in­sisted chiefly on David, the principall of their Kings, as also his Son Solomon who passeth for a wonder of wisdome and policy; she explained to me at large the life of the latter, and from thence pitched on a certain piece, where was represented a very fair Queen, who falling in love with Solomon, upon the report of his vertues, had left her Kingdom and Coun­try, and traversed a great part of the world to visit him; Soloma took from hence an occasion to set upon me, and therefore abridging the story she told me: this Prince, said she, was the wisest that ever lived, and yet he did not contemn the affection of a Princesse that loved him, but for a recompence he gave her his heart, which was all that she could desire from him, after these words, she looked ear­nestly upon me, although with some confusion, and so by her actions obliged me to make some reply: It was both just and reasonable, that this wise King which you have described, should make an acknow­ledgment to that fair Queen, who had abandoned her territories, and had exposed her self to those trou­bles and hazards, that doe attend so troublesome a voyage, only for to visit him, for certainly the pains which she underwent were considerable, and King Solomon had failed in that justice for which you so largely commend him, if he had not made some thankfull acknowledgement, for so great an obli­gation: [Page 57] you have now said enough, replied Soloma, for to condemn your self, for if you were of that opi­nion you would well consider how you stand obli­ged to those Princesses, who have not forsaken King­doms, and traversed many Provinces to have the honour to see you, but have lost their liberties, which are more precious than Empires, and have overcome greater difficulties than those of long and hazzardous journies. This discourse, the end of which I alwaies feared, put me into such a fearfull condition, which I could by no means dissemble, but seeing my self obliged to return an answer: I replied, that I was too unfortunate, for to beleive, that my miserable con­dition could make me other than an object of pit­ty and compassion, and that the affections of Prin­cesses ought to be placed on persons more deserving, I am far from imagining, that so miserable and ba­nished a creature (who is persecuted by his friends, and hath no other shelter and refuge, but in the goodnesse of the King your Brother) can triumph over those pretious liberties, which without doubt are reserved for persons more fortunate, and those who have merited them, not onely by the losse of their own, but a long series of services: Those, replyed, Soloma who come by them so easily, are much more obliged, than those who have acquired them, with much pains taking, that is either by losse of their blood or whole years service, and therefore without extream ingratitude, that which is dearly purcha­sed cannot be preferred, before that which is given freely: And I shall not blush to tell you that you are of this number; Tiridate, you labour to avoid ob­ligations, when they are cast on you, for without [Page 58] doubt you are better esteemed of in the Court of Herod, than you desire to be, and the misfortunes of your life are not so much considered there, as the quallities wherewith you are endued, and you know it very well, although by a feigned and pretended ignorance you would seem to disguise it, and you are too apprehensive and clear sighted, for to be igno­rant of that, which too many words and actions have too clearly declared to you, but you have shut up both your eys and ears against them with disdain, and any other spirit, but that over which you have ac­quired so great an Empire, would have rebounded at your contempts, and slightings, but notwithstan­ding all your harsh carriage, she hath persevered some years, without suffering her affection to congeale, and she will persevere in the same, all her life time, if you shall but give her hopes, that her perseverance, will not be wholly unprofitable: Soloma as she spake these words, held her eys fixed on the ground, on whom I perceived many marks of shame and con­fusion, which she could by no means dissemble, and indeed had she not been troubled with her self. I should have been in the like condition for her, and I was more troubled in hiding her shame, than in studying for an answer to return her, Madam, said I, after a little pause, untill this present time, my thoughts have been so taken up with the considera­tion of my misfortunes, that I have scarce had the liberty to think on any thing besides, and have found so little ground and reason, for those things which you done me the honour to relate, that I could never imagine them, and for that cause, my carelesnesse ought rather to be accounted a fault, which I have [Page 59] committed than a disdain which was never naturall to me; The Gods certainly have not endewed me with so many advantagious qualities, for to raise me to so high a pitch of happinesse, and if it were really true, the disgusts of my life are such, and my miseries so great, that I should take no pleasure at all, in the greatest fortune that may befall me, by this time Soloma was satisfied that her passion was sufficiently known to me, and therefore thought my words to­gether with the action wherewith they were uttered, so disobeying, that if it had been possible for her, she would have ceased from that time, to cast her affe­ction on me, neither was she desirous to continue on a discourse, which in the beginning, she received so little satisfaction; and therefore, going hastily out of the Gallery she said, very well Tiridate, I shall not entertain you any longer, on a subject so un­pleasing and loathsome to you, and since you must be importuned to requite courtesies, I shall cease from so doing for the future: having said thus, at our entrance into the Chamber of Pherorus, I was hindred from returning any further answer, and indeed she was so enraged against me, that during the time we were there together, shee never offered to speak unto me, or so much as cast an eye towards me. From that day forward I began to be sensible of the fury of that spirit, which I ever thought to be sufficiently vicious, I took the first opportunity to discover the whole matter to the Queen, least that malicious creature should endeavour to doe me some ill office with her, upon this discovery the Queen began to entertain worse thoughts of Soloma than before, which I perceived by her discourse concerning her, [Page 60] Tiridate, said she, smilingly, are you so cruell to those that love you; but afterwards discoursing more seriously, she told me that if I would be pleased but to open my eys to reason, which passion had shut up, I might perceive that God had punished my unlawfull passion, with such a one as I wholly dis­liked, and since Soloma said she, can entertain no passion for you, but that which is condemned by your self and every body, in regard of her married condi­tion, how can I then, who have a King for my Hus­band, suffer the like in your self, without falling into the same fault. Ah! Madam, said I, I conceive my case differs much from that of Soloma, for if you should suffer your goodnesse, to bestow any parti­cular favour on me, you will be much mor excu­sable than Soloma, since the person that bears the name of your husband, doth merit rather than the esteem of a cruell enemy: I have told you oftentimes, said the Queen, that you may not ground any hopes upon that consideration, and although, I stood no way obliged to Herod, yet I should never forget that which I owe to my self; And these were the an­swers, which I usually received from her, and it was in such courteous forbearances, that I took my greatest pleasure and content; I esteemed my condition the more fortunate, for that I had no hopes of making a further progresse in the af­fections of so vertuous a Princesse: the occasion I had to make use of the assistance of Sohemus had induced me to discover my thoughts unto him, be­sides, I did with presents and favours, gain the affe­ctions of Philo the Queens principall Eunuch, as al­so Cleopha her chiefest maid of Honour, who were [Page 61] both very ready to serve my interests upon all occasi­ons, however the Queen was ignorant of these pro­ceedings with her servants, and indeed had she known it, she would not have approved thereof; Shee still shunned opportunities to see me alone, and if by chance she could not avoyd my companie, shee kept me in such awe and fear, that I hardly dared to open my lips before her, yet the compassion which she had for my suffering encouraged me sometimes to presume to speak to her, but although I found sweet consola­tions in this libertie, which she gave me, yet if I did but extend it so farre as to kiss her fair hand, shee would be so much displeased, that I was constrained speedily to repent, for what I had desired to doe. During this time, although by my circumspection and care, I did deceive almost every body in the Court, in the opinion they had of me, yet Soloma, who was more interessed than the rest, was more clear-sighted, and imagining that my contempt of her affections proceeded from some preoccupation, she held so vigi­lant an eye on my actions, that at last she began to discover a part of the truth; yet she could not be well satisfied with my pretentions, because suddenly after I was enforced to absent my self from the Court, upon an occasion which I shall presently relate.

CLEOPATRA, The first part, the second Book.

THe most cruell Phraatus being not able to oblige Herod to betray me into his power, although hee had oftentimes endeavoured it, and being besides a mortall enemy to him, he sent an army consisting of 30000. Parthes into the Frontiers of Judea, under the conduct of Barsaphanus, one of his Generals, who as soon as he came into the Coun­try, committed all manner of hostile Acts, by putting all to the sword without regarding either age or sex; This design was not so secretly carried on, but Herod, who was in businesses of that kind, both prudent and vigilant, having his Spies and Intelligencers in all places, had so sudden notice of it, that before the Parthes had marched farre into the Country, hee had rallied his forces, and had a very formidable Army in the field to encounter with them; he had a desire to command in person, had not the distrust which usually attends on such guilty persons, caused him to fear that his absence might encourage other malecon­tents [Page 63] to kindle another flame in the heart of his Coun­try. Upon this ground he resolved to dispatch one of his Lieutenants. I was too much interessed in this warre for to sit still without desiring a command, for notwithstanding the grief I had to absent my self from Mariamne, yet the desire of glory and revenge made me to cast my self at the Kings feet, and desire the command of his Army, and he was so well satis­fied with the service I had formerly done him, that he thought he could not better dispose of his Army, than to order me to have the cammand of it. In Fine, he freely bestowed the office of Generall on me, and so soon as I had set my affairs in good equipage, I dis­posed my self to quit that place, where I left the greatest part of my self behind, the Queen (who could by no means hate me; notwithstanding the im­portunities which my passion occasioned her) was well satisfied with the newes that the King had ho­noured me with this employment, which she expres­sed unto me by telling me that she doubted not, but that I would discharge it with honour. But the night before my departure, I desired a private discourse with her, although all the Arguments I used to that pur­pose were not of force sufficient to perswade her to grant me my request: For after shee had denied me with angry words, which did sufficiently manifest her displeasure, she said in a more mild tone, no Tiridate, such a conversation is no way necessary, I know al­ready all that you would tell me, and you your self are not ignorant of the Answer that I shall return you; therefore, labour to shake off this unjust passion, if it be possible, and be of opinion, that if the affecti­on which you beare me could be recompenced with a [Page 64] high esteeme of you, and a hearty wishing your wel­fare and content, you should suddainly be satisfied: Although these words might bear no large significa­tion, yet the Queen thought she had expressed her self too far, as I perceived by the blushing in her fair face, and truly I sound so much sweetnesse in them, and construed them so advantagiously, that I remai­ned very well satisfied with my condition: I endea­voured as much as I could with civility to perswade her, to permit me to have the honour to wright un­to her, but after a strong refusall, she desired me to desist from importuning her any more; I obeyed her command without murmuring, and being constrai­ned to take my leave of her in the Kings presence, I did the same duty to Soloma, who at that time was there present, by which means I avoided that im­portunate discourse which I should have heard, in case I had taken a more solemn and private fare­well from her: but when as I bended my self after the Jewish fashion, when they bid adieu, she told me in my eare that my countenance was very lovely but yet very dangerous: I had neither time nor oppor­tunitie to reply, but if I had, I was in such a confu­sion, that I should scarce have found words to an­swer her, and that she well perceived by my coun­tenance, which confirmed her in the suspition she had of me: Being gone from Jerusalem, I hastened to the Army, who had for some time expected my comming, and so marched directly to encounter with the enemy, who by that time, had sacked and burned many villages, and some towns, that were not able to make resistance. I shall not tire you with a re­lation of all the particular accidents & passages of the [Page 65] war, but shall briefly tell you, that being advanced near the enemies quarters, I sent immediatly to offer them battel, and to acquaint them that Tiridate had brought them his own head, and therefore if they got the victory, they should suddainly reap the fruit of their invasion, and carry home with them that which would fully satisfy the King their Ma­ster: Barsamus their Generall received with wil­lingnesse this message, and had so far espoused the cruell interests of his King, that he joyfully dispo­sed his affairs to give battell; the day following the Armies came within sight of each other, so that as soon as both sides had employed their best skill and endeavours, for the ranging their battallions, they assaulted each other with much eagernesse and fury; the Parthes were without doubt more valiant and better disciplined than the Jews, yet it pleased the Gods so to favour the justnesse of my cause, that after a bloody conflict, we gained a compleat victo­ry: the battell being ended, one of the Souldiers presented me with the head of Barsapharmus, which sight although it did affect me with horror and com­passion, yet I was willing to send it as a present to the King of the Parthes, in the room of that which he so much desired, that so I might give him to under­stand by that present, how I was able to defend my self against all his cruell and inhumane at­tempts; I released freely the prisoners which were taken, that so by my civilities to them, I might ob­lige them, and send them home with a detestation of their Kings cruelty, and then as soon as I had repai­red those damages which the Parthes had occasio­ned upon the frontiers, and put those places in a [Page 66] better condition to defend themselves for the fu­ture; I returned a triumphing conqueror to Jeru­salem, where I was received with acclamations of all the people. Herod himself expressed a great deal of thankfull affection to me, and my fair Queen did so demean her self at that time, that I well percei­ved that the importunities which she had received from my passion, did not hinder her from interesting her self in my good fortune: Good Gods, what sa­tisfaction was it to me, to hear from her mouth, that she feared the danger into which I had precipi­tated my life? what could I have done or imagined, whereby I might have made an acknowledgement, for so great an effect of her goodnesse? by this means I saw my self in a more glorious and happy condi­tion than I could have expected; for although my divine Princesse could not frame her spirit to favour an unjust passion, yet she failed not to give me as­surances of a high esteem, and innocent affection. They whose fortune have been so great▪ after a long tract of service, as to gain the full possession of what they desired, could not be so well satisfied, as I my self was with my condition: for I could not imagine so much glory and happinesse in the possession of the greatest beauties of the universe, as in having the ho­nour to kisse the Garment of Mariamne. I say her Garment, for I never had the happinesse to kisse her hand, but by surprise, and when my passion promp­ted me to take that libertie▪ she gave such a check to my presumption, that it cost me much suffering for a long time after the various effects of my passion pro­duced the like in her spirit; for sometimes she laughed at the extravagancies, which the violence of my [Page 67] maladie enforced me to commit, and at other times, she was as much troubled for the cruelty of my suf­fering: but she was most angry, when I spake those things, which she said savoured of prophanesse and impiety; for the strictnesse of her Religion was such, that she acknowledged but one Divinity, and there­fore could not endure to hear me give her any di­vine title, and therefore so soon as I touched on that string, she immediatly by her absolute authoritie enjoyned me silence. I gave as reverent an attention to what she said, as to an oracle, and indeed, shee spake nothing but that which caused admiration, and the greatest attention; Tiridate said she to me one day; how much were you to be commended, what an obligation would you put on me, if for my sake and your own, you could overcome that pas­sion, which in all probability will prove fatall and destructive to us both. Indeed I have borne with the beginnings of it with so much indulgence▪ as cannot be excused, and therefore I my self am guilty of your griefs, and the faults which you make me to com­mit: Employ that same strength and courage, which you have made use of in conquering the enemies of Judea, for to vanquish this domestick enemy: you have vertue enough without doubt to overcome it. if you would but be pleased to make use it; for if against its resistance▪ you will but oppose the strength of your reason, you will gain such a happy victory, as will give a great deal of satisfaction to us both: for if hitherto, you have hid your pretensions from Herod, yet you cannot expect the same successe for the time to come: Soloma, who for her own interest Will pry into your actions, may shortly [Page 68] discover enough to ruin you; and if that cruell wretch will not spare his friends and kindred▪ although in­nocent, what can you better expect from him, who are a meer stranger, and will easily be thought guil­ty? The fair Queen uttered these words, with so great an earnestness, and comly grace, as is possible to be imagined; although alas she perceived little disposition in me, to grant her that which she de­sired; for what endeavours could she expect from that spirit, which had no Power or command of it self, and which at the hearing of those intreaties, received such a redoubling of its grief, that it could by no means give obedience to so rigorous an yiel­ding as was desired? I let her understand at the same time, my incapability to obey her, with many sub­missive and passionate expressions, wherewith my love furnished me. I acquainted her that it was im­possible for me to obey her, and forgot nothing that might provoke her naturall goodnesse, I say her good­nesse, for it was upon that onely basis that my whole fortune did then depend: but I had sailed too long in a calm, and I had too long been exempt from those misfortunes, which were by the best skill of Mathe­maticians prophecied to befall me; hitherto I had deluded the King by my subtill carriage, notwith­standing his naturall jealousie and mistrust; but So­loma who looked on my actions, with a more inte­ressed eye than others, began to suspect, and in the end discovered the whole truth, by many marks, so that notwithstanding the redoubling of the Guard on my actions, my endeavours were ineffectuall, and those artifices which I used to delude her, wrought a contrary effect on her, and confirmed her in that [Page 69] unhappy belief which she had of me. As soon as she was satisfied of the truth of her discoverie, it occasio­ned such a hatred, that its difficult for to determine whether her love or hatred was the most violent; she hated the Queen mortally, as well out of envie a­gainst those admirable qualities and perfections, which drew from others esteem and veneration, as also for some disrespect which continually she received from that Princesse, who indeed could never ply her spirit too caress, and make much of those, who no way me­rited her esteem▪ and besides she observed with much indignation, the power that the Queen had over the Kings spirit; her jealousie in fine, being added to these considerations produced such sudden viiolent and dire­full effects, so that she could no longer look on her as her rivall, but resolving to take all advantages to de­stroy her, and with her, him that a few daies before she so dearly loved. This change may seem very strange to you, but yet its true, that assoon as she per­ceived that I had an affection for Meriamne, that same love which had so much before importuned me, converted it self into such a hatred, that it made her capable of the most violent and cruell resolutions. She forth with resolved to involve me in the same mischief that she intended for that most innocent Princesse. Shee knew well that the Kings humour was much of her own frame and temper, and therefore she doubted not but that the least impressions that she could make on him against us, would be enough to ruine us both. It was by this means which she conceived would bee the most certain and least dangerous, that she resolved to destroy us, and therefore she began to practise it with all the artifices that her rage and malice could [Page 70] possibly furnish her with; She began in the first place to insinuate into him, that I made a very long stay in Judea, although I was offered a more sure and safe protection else-where, and that the Emperour Augu­stus, being an enemie to the King of the Parthes, had invited me to Rome, where he offered me a peaceable retreat, and all sorts of succours and assistance against Phraatus; She told him that I had little cause to re­fuse or delay to accept of such courteous and advanta­gious offers, unless I had some extraordinary motives for my continuance in Judea. To be short, she caused him to prie more narrowly into my actions, without discovering her design▪ and desired him to observe well my countenance and behaviour when I came into the Queens presence; she made him to observe my sighes and passionate looks, and many other actions, which a violent love can by no means dissemble from the eyes of persons interessed, and such as would care­fully observe my behaviour; these things in a very short tract of time made such an impressi­on on the spirit of Herod, and as hee was al­together impatient in matters of this kind, so I had suddenly felt the effects of his jealousies, had not some other consideration, to wit the support of the Emperour Augustus, who had written divers Letters to him in my behalf, besides his hatred of Phraatus, and the service I had done for his Country hindered him: he being Politick in his carriage did for some time dissemble his design, al­though he discovered to Soloma in part his suspitions, and the malitious creature as soon as Shee perceived that she had wrought the King to be of her belief, she failed not to strike home, according as she had pre­meditated [Page 71] the business: My Lord, said shee one day, I am constrained to acquaint you with that which the care of the quiet of your family hath made me hi­therto to keep secret, and the consideration of your own satisfaction, being more dear unto me than all other; I shal waive all others that have enforced me hi­therto dissemble my thoughts; you need not to enquire further into the causes of the disdain of Mariamne, her aversion proceeds not from the resentments for the destruction of her family▪ for were she not pre­possessed with another passion, those many demon­strations of your tender affection to her, would long since have taken her off from those thoughts, and have sweetned her disposition; that rock of insensibili­ty of your loving favours hath not the same hardness for others and that Parthian who hath here sheltred himself under the protection of your goodness & boun­ty▪ doth love her with better success than your self; I have discovered their inclinations by many marks, and notwithstanding the care they have taken to dis­guise them their passion of late hath so wholly blinded them, that they have no longer the power to dissem­ble and I fear that the whole Court doe so farre take notice of it, that they are much scandalized at it: It is not without much difficultie that I make you this relation, I should have been willing to have lost my own life so I had not this occasion to tell you what I have said without betraying you; But in Fine, my Lord the zeal I have for your interests together with the hatred I have for the ingratitude of the Queen, hath carried me beyond and above all those reasons which might have obliged me to be silent. Whilest that Soloma spake in this sort, the King ut­tered [Page 72] many a sigh, but swallowed down very eagerly the poison that she had prepared for him, insomuch, that it was a wonder that he had not by this first in­formation resolved to act something in order to our ruine; but as he was oftentimes Master of his Passions; so upon this occasion he resolved to be better satisfied with the truth, before he attempted any thing, the con­sequence of which might give him much trouble and displeasure: for this reason, overcomming his passion as much as was possible, he said to Soloma; Sister, I I am obliged to you for this relation that you have given me, and I doubt not but it proceeds from the affection which you bear me, and indeed, I suspected the same with you, although I had not so much ground, as to perswade me to a belief of it, and be­sides the experience I have had of the vertues of the Queen hath wrought in me a difficulty to believe that the aversion which she hath for me, should make her to exceed the bounds of her duty; I begin neverthe­less to conform my self to your opinion, and I think with you that its strange that the Queens resentments are not effaced and forgotten, and the hardness of her heart softned by those thousand ardent and clear testimonies of my love, if she were not prepossessed; I love her too much, said he sighing, I love that un­gratefull person too much, and although she doth un­worthily abuse my love, yet I cannot cease from lo­ving her. He held his peace at these words, and then walking up and down the Chamber, with an action that manifested sufficiently his transport and resoluti­on; Soloma did well perceive that she had not failed in her design. Ah Tiridate! said he after his silence, dost thou thus requite the protection I have given [Page 73] thee? and art thou not afraid to find that in my law­full resentments which thou hast hitherto avoided by my assistance? If I had merited thy outrages, couldest thou not have made use of another means to doe me a mischief, and doest thou believe that a cruell bro­ther is more redoubtable than a jealous husband, or a transported lover? Hee accompanied these words with new sighes, and having walked a while longer without speaking; Sister, said he, (turning back to Soloma) before we attempt any thing upon this ad­vice that you have given me, its necessary that we be a little better informed of the business, for the Qua­litie of Tiridate joyned with the care that the Empe­rour takes for him, maketh me to bee very cautious, but endeavour to instruct your self better concerning the truth of this business, and I will so manage the affair on my part, that it shall be very hard for them to abuse me much longer. I understood that the King and Soloma had this discourse, from Schemus, who had it from an Officer of the Guard who waited at the same time in the Antichamber; from that day for­ward those two malicious spirits observed narrowly my actions, and I must confess that (notwithstanding my greatest circumspection) I committed those acti­ons that were enough to discover me to persons so much interessed; my looks, sighes, and changing of my countenance did ordinarily betray me, and indeed, as I was ignorant of the Kings suspitions, so I gover­ned my self with less care than I would have done, had I had the least intimation of it; the Queen like­wise was narrowly watched, and as this Queen (if I may say it with modestie) looking on me as a person deserving her particular esteem, and possibly shee [Page 74] thought her self obliged thereunto, by the persevering of the respectfull passion that I had for her; So that shee alwaies behaved her self in my companie in such sort, that might confirm the King in those jealousies that Soloma had infused into him; so jealous was this Prince that hee construed the civill carriage of the Queen towards me, to proceed from no other source, than her love towards me; I observed very often a change of his countenance and disposition, and al­though upon all other occasions hee approved him­self subtile and dissembling yet his enraged jealousie so wrought upon him that he lost part of that com­mand which he used to have of his passions he could so little contain himself, but that I did easily perceive much coldness in his discourse with me, and much slighting in his carriage towards me; the Queen be­gan now to apprehend that▪ which she alwaits feared, and although her own innocencie was enough for her justification, yet for avoiding further mischief shee resolved to break off the accustomed familiaritie which she used with me, which made me to practice a greater dissimulation than I had done-formerly; but it was too late, the tempest being already framed, there was a necessitie that it should break forth into dangerous thunderings; one day, and such a day whose memorie I ought to preserve, for that it was the most remarkable in all my life, the same when as the Jewes use to celebrate the Feast of Tabernacles, being willing (although I was of a different religion) through cu­riositie to assist at the Ceremonies, I waited on the King, to that famous Temple, which from the name of its founder they call the Temple of Solomon, which for its richness and famous structure, may more [Page 75] justly than either that of Diana at Ephesus, or that of Jupiter Olympios, pass for one of the Miracles of the world: I was for some time intent upon the brave Ceremonies which I saw there, but at the last being not able to belye my self I transported all my thoughts to Mariamne, and fastned my eyes on her in such manner, that (although Arsanus who was then by me, did mind me of the danger, and made me to observe how the King looked on me) during the sacrifice I could scarce look from her; I was altoge­ther ignorant of the fault I committed, but I think the Gods did blind my eyes, for to punish me for the offence I had committed against them in assisting at Sacrifices, when I was an enemie to their religion; but whatsoever it was, that day hee gave himself up to jealousie, and though possibly before that time he had not determined what resolution to take up, as soon as he returned from the Temple he went to the Queen, laden with furious intentions, his countenance did sufficiently manifest his discontents, and his eyes sparkled with fierie choler, but hee was no sooner come into the Queens companie, but all those mists vanished, and all his anger was wholly allayed with the charmes of her beautie; although he was a little before as terrible as a Lion, he now became mild and tractable: in stead of those menaces wherewith hee was prepared, he used onely caresses and flatteries, and expressed himself very lovingly to her; all which the Queen received with her accustomed modestie; but at the last endeavouring to take those liberties, which he conceived were lawfully due to him, this couragious Princesse rejected him with disdain. He­rod, who could not be ignorant of the true cause, [Page 76] although he suspected others, did not give over at the first repulse, but continued his addresses to her, untill he perceived that he could by no means prevail with her to grant him those favours which he desired from her; he suddainly recalled that choler, which had but a few minutes before left him, and loo­king on her with a troubled countenance, ungratefull creature said he, doe not think to abuse me any longer with thy specious pretexts but know that I am not ignorant, that it is the love of Tiridate, and not the memory of Hircanus or Aristobulus, that makes thee so inflexible to the intreaties of thy husband. Although the Queen had cause enough to fear the worst from Herod, yet she was mightily surprised at these words, and remained as it were thunder-smitten, her tongue was silent, and her face changed colour, so that from her great astonishment Herod received a confirma­tion of his suspitions; at this sight, his furie encrea­sed so much the more, for he imagined that this mightie surprise was occasioned from the convicti­on of her Conscience, and either from shame or fear to perceive her passion discovered; what said he, are they the Caresses of an infidell, that doe rob me of that which is lawfully due to none but my self; and thou who protestedst thy self so great a zealot, both for the law of God, and the honour of the world, dost thou find more delight in the shamefull em­braces of an infidell, than in the affections of thy hus­band? Ah! faithless woman, altogether unworthy of that love, which hath preserved thee in that ranck which thou shouldest have lost, with the rest of thy friends, is it for this that thou vantest thy self to be of the blood of the Maccabees? or doest thou be­lieve [Page 77] that those illustrious Hesmoneans, with whom thou hast so often reproached me, if they were living that they would approve of this shame­full action, in preferring a banished Parthian, before a King to whom the last of them had given thee for a wise, or rather him that received thee as his spouse, when as he might have treated thee as a subject? he accompanied these words with a torrent of others more cruell and injurious, during which time, the Queen reassumed all the assurance that her inno­cency could give her, and being not able to apply her self to flatteries, or justification of her self; make an end most cruell one, make an end, and be of opi­nion that after the cruelties used against my nea­rest friends, thou mayst well conclude them on my self; in this point thou hast hitherto forborne me, but after that thou hast murthered my friends and kindred imprisoned my self, and given bloody or­ders for my destruction, there remained only that thou shouldst blemish that honour, which untill now thanks be to God defended it self against thy horrible persecution; rend in pieces that reputation, which amidst all my misfortunes hath remained spotless, and goe on, to persecute the memory of the Hesmoneans, with that ignominie and shame which thou pereparest for the last of that royall and illustrious blood, which thou hast already in abun­dance cruelly shed: doe not hope, that I will allege my innocence for my justification, I am obliged to give an account thereof onely to one; who already knows it, and will I doubt not protect me against all calumnies of my enemies, and believe of the un­fortunate Mariamne all that her haters have in­spired [Page 78] into thee: thy cruelties have been more than enough, to make me waive those justifications which I should make to him, whom the Heavens as a Plague have given me for a Husband; but doe not comprehend persons in the same miserie with me, who know nothing of the crime that thou hast lay­ed to my charge, and if thy fury and choler must have a victim to appease it, look no farther than her, who by reason of the misfortunes of her life, doth not desire longer to live: these last words of the Queen transported Herod into the greatest extre­mitie of rage and furie, for thinking the care which she took to justifie me, not valuing her own dan­ger, proceeded from the love she bore me, he thought that to be a sufficient testimonie to convince her, and being not able longer to contain himself, Yes perfi­dious wretch said he, I will believe from thy self, all that my eys and ears, and not what thy enemies have discovered unto me; I will believe the worst concerning thee which thou wouldst have me to believe, and that which thou wilt not vouchsafe to disavow; the care that thou hast taken (to thy own cost) for that ungratefull person that hath thus falsly betrayed me, is sufficient for to condemn you both: I will begin to punish thy disloyaltie, by the losse of that thou accountest most dear: I will not advise with thee about the way to revenge my self, and satisfie my choler, but whilst I shall consider how to dispose of thee, expect what I shall suddenly exe­cute on the person that thou so much doatest on. Having said this, he suddenly went out of the Cham­ber, with a countenance so much troubled, that no body durst look on him: but alas, how false was the [Page 79] opinion he had of my happy fortune, how farre was I from so soveraign a degree of happiness, and my condition might very well have contracted envy, had his conjectures been true. During this time, I remai­ned at my lodging ignorant of all that had passed, and therefore carelesly spent my time in my ordinary di­vertisements, untill my supper was served up; at which time I sate down to eat with some Gentlemen of my acquaintance, that were then with me; we were not long at Table, but I calling for drink, had presently the cup presented to me by one of the Kings Butlers, who was wont to serve me, who looking very scurvi­ly on the matter, I thought his distemper was occasio­ned by some indisposition, and therefore contented my self with asking of him how he did, & then taking the Cup, I was about to drink, but as soon as the Cup was at my lips, Arsanus came running to me, and gave my arm such a jogge, that I overturned both the Cup and drink, some on the Table, and some on my Clothes; This action of Arsanus savoured of incivilitie, but I knowing his humour, imagined that he had not done it without cause; he stayed not so long as to suffer me to demand a reason for what hee had done, for having a design to abuse the companie that were present; My Lord, said he, I beseech you to pardon the fault, which my rashness and precipita­tion hath caused me to commit and be pleased yet to give me further libertie of exchanging two or three words with you in private: as he spake thus he drew me by the Arme after such a sort, that I suddainly perceived that he had some important business to relate unto me; I rose up hastily from the Table, making a bad excuse to those Guests I had with me, [Page 80] and followed Arsanus all alone into my Cabinet, whither he first entred; being there, My Lord, said he, we must flye if we will save our lives, the Gods have sent me timely enough to prevent your taking the poyson that was prepared for you; but if wee consume more time here, wee may not be able to prevent further and greater dangers; be but pleased to read this note which the Queens Principall Eu­nuch gave me, even now, its written with her own hand, and its to her alone that you are obliged for the Preservation of your life; if it shall please the gods that we shall save you: I was so much amazed at the speech and action of Arsanus; that without replying to his discourse, I took the paper from him, where I found written these words with the hand of my divine Queen.

Mariamne to Prince Tiridate.

THE danger that I may run into by giving you this advice, cannot hinder me from dis­charging that duty which I owe to your vertue, and those many testimonies of your af­fection: Save your self therefore Tiridate if you can, and make no longer stay in this place, where as wel Poy­son as the Sword are prepared for your destruction.

I read over this note twice or thrice, kis­sing with great devotion those lovely characters, which that fair hand had drawn, and when I had read it, and sufficiently weighed the contents of it, I knew not whether I was more sensibly touched with the cruelty of Herod, (who intended to mur­ther [Page 81] me, after he had received me into his protection) or with the ex raordinary goodness of the Queen, who with the hazard of her own safety, so much studied my preservation. I knew not which resent­ment had most power over my spirits but sure I am that the death wherewith I was threatned by the one, did not seem so hard for me to undergoe, as that banishment unto which I saw my self con­demned by Mariamne her self; the grief that I thereupon conceived was so great, that I had not words sufficient to expresse it, and therefore re­maining silent a long time, without any motion, which Arsanus could by no means approve of, in that tonjuncture of my affairs; after that he had many times pressed me to a resolution, what would you have me to doe said I or what answer can I return to so cruell a proposition as you make to me? this wretched life of mine which by your diligence I have miserably spent out of one Court into ano­ther, is it think you so dear to me, as to make me quit the Company of Mariamne? and can you ima­gin that this separation from her can be more easie for me to endure than that of my soul from my bo­dy? shall forsake her to perpetuity, whom I can­not leave one moment without danger of death? and for to avoid one onely death, shall I carry about with me (whithersoever my miserable fortune shall bring me) a thousand torments in my breast beyond all comparison▪ more cruell than those that Herod hath provided for me? Ah! let us dye rather said I, walking to and froe with so much eagernesse, that I could not hearken unto the perswasions of Arsa­nus, who desired me to hasten away: let us choose [Page 82] rather to dye suddainly, since a lingring death is most intolerable; let us leave here our bodies cold and pale, since if we depart we shall leave our souls behind us; and since its decreed that we must dye one way or other, let us endeavour to dye in the sight of Ma­riamne, and if we cannot attain to that glory, let us give up our spirits, which are and ever shall be hers, so neer her as is possible. I uttered these words with so much fury and transportation, whilst that Arsanus much troubled to see my distempers, alleged many things, which I little regarded, for to perswade me to think of my safety: in Fine, my Lord said he, I doubt not but it will be with much displeasure, that you will prepare to be gone from this place, but if the care of your safetie, and the preservation of your own life, be not a sufficient argument to dispose you to that resolution, yet I beseech you consider the command you have received from the Queen, which is so plain and peremptorie, that if you have any re­spect at all left for her, you cannot disobey her: the Queens command replied, I suddainly proceeds from nothing but a tender care she hath for the saving of my life, but if she knew that it will be a thousand times more delightfull to me to dye, than to for­sake her Companie for ever, without question shee would not be against my stay: Arsanus was about to reply, and I think he would have prevailed with me, but my Governour comming into the Cabinet told me in few words, that Sohemus was below in the Garden where he desired to speak with me▪ and moreover that by the favour of the night, he was come thither, not daring to come publickly in re­gard of the danger of giving Herod such suspitions [Page 83] that might have deprived him of the means to serve me. I hastened to the place where Sohemus expected my companie, without staying for Torches or other attendance, besides Arsanus and my Govrnour; as soon as I came to him, embracing him, I told him, well, my dear friend, we must either dye or flye, and by the cruelty of Herod, as well as my Destinie, I must either lose my life, or the presence of Mari­amne Yea, said Sohemus, and except you are very carefull and diligent, you may lose both the one and the other; That may well be, said I for I can endure it with greater ease than to force away my body to a place whither my soul will not accompanie it, and so used in effect the same discourse, as I had done be­fore to Arsanus, which when he had heard with as much attention, as the fear wherewith he was posses­sed would give him leave, My Lord, sayd he, if you have any love for the Queen, you ought no longer to consult on the matter, or make such further interpre­tations of her commands which may prove fatall to you both; although you are careless in preserving your own life, you ought to be tender of hers, for believe it, whilst you remain in Judea, the Queen cannot be safe. Its not against you onely that the King is so much enraged, its rather against her than you that this tem­pest is raised, being risen, you have no way to hinder the powring of it down on her, than by your absence to take away the cause of the Kings jealousie: hee repeated to me orderly and in few words, what hee had heard from the Queens principall Eunuch con­cerning the discourse between the King and Queen, and upon the consideration of the Queens quiet and safetie, he suddenly reduced me to those tearms which [Page 84] he most desired; I could not dispose my self to forsake the Queen everlastingly, but I resolved to fly from the choler of Herod for a time, and in the mean while to endeavour a reconcilement with him, by reason of the knowledge which he might have of the Queens innocencie, or else to return again and see her in de­spight of him. It was upon these hopes that I con­sented to my departure, and I should have chosen rather to have dyed a thousand deaths, than to have disposed my self never to see the Queen any more. Whilst that I was thus discoursing with Sohemus▪ and thanking him for all his good offices, and assuring him of my perpetuall friendship, and what else hee could desire of me, in case my fortune should change, he gave me an assurance of the continuation of his assistance; Arsanus and my Governour made ready my arms and horses, and conveyed them secretly into the Garden with three or four servant Parthes that had served me from my infancy, and had followed me through all my travels; they were carefull also to put up that Money and Jewels which wee had; I gave some Jewels of valew to Sohomus, and left with him others to give to Cleophea and the Queens chief Eu­nuch▪ and so with tears in my eyes bid him farewell, and then putting on my arms, suddenly mounted on my horse, attended onely with the companie above mentioned, without taking any one Jew with us, or so much as acquainting any of them with the design I had to be gone. We went out at the back gate, by which Sohemus entred, which led to a private street, but whilst I went out at the back side the front of my house was assaulted by those who were sent by Herod to take me living or dead, they having order to en­compasse [Page 85] my house. I had scarce rod three steps but I perceived the ends of the streets through which I should pass blocked up by an abundance of souldiers. I soon perceived how difficult it would be for me to save my self, and yet I was resolved to sell my life and libertie at as dear a rate as I could▪ and therefore turning my self about to those that followed me, I asked them whether they were resolved to shew themselves valiant men, and to dye with their Prince in case Fate should so order it? they all protested una­nimously that they would die at my feet. I perceiving their couragious resolution, spurred on my horse, with my sword in my hand, towards those who opposed my passage, and was so gallantly followed by my com­pany, that my enemies suddenly perceived that they had not so easie a service to perform in taking or kil­ling me, as they had imagined: I hewed my passage through those who appeared first to stop me, and so ordered the matter, that after wee had killed divers, and wounded and scattered others that were most re­solute, the passage through the street remained free, which lead us into another more large, from whence we hastened with great speed towards that Port of the Citie that was least remote: We had by this time great hopes of saving our selves, untill we arrived at a place neer the Temple, where we saw all corners of the streets so strongly guarded with armed men which made us change our opinions in regard of the difficul­tie to force them; by the light of the Torches which they there had, I perceived that Alaxas the husband of Soloma had the chief command of that partie, who was very busie in animating them either to take or kill me, I rode up to him, and strook such a blow [Page 86] at him, as would have undoubtedly dispatched him out of the world▪ had not one of his followers saved him from the violence of the stroak, but it was not so slight but it gave him so deep a wound, that he immediatly fell down to the ground as dead; the fall of Alexas caused a great cry among the Jewes; Du­ring which we mingling our selves with them▪ left many of them dead under our horses feet; its true we then performed very memorable exploits, and it may be the Jewes never saw so small a company, enviro­ned and attached by so many powerfull enemies, dispute their lives and liberties with greater courage or resolution; but in the end our enemies waxed stronger and stronger by reason of a concourse of fresh forces and our companie was by this time so much lessened and tired, that we saw no probabilitie of safety without a miraculous assistance. My Gover­nour Polites, who untill then had faithfully served me amidst all my misfortunes and disgraces with a wonderfull constancie and affection, was killed just by me, as also one of my stoutest and most faithfull Parthes; So that without question I could not have long survived them, had not Arsanus (who was upon such occasions very prudent and apprehensive) thought on another way to save us out of the great danger we were in; he came up as neer me as hee could possibly, and calling to me follow me my Lord saith he▪ I be­seech you I have found out an assured retreat for us, and then in stead of attempting to gain the Port, which till that time we endeavoured, after we turned quite about another way toward the gate of the Temple now for that we met with small opposition that way, we suddenly came thither, where we were [Page 87] no sooner arrived, but we unlighted from our horses, and ran into the Temple, which at that time was kept open, in the regard of the Celebration of the Feasts of the Tabernacle which dured three whole dayes. This Temple had alwayes been a Sanctuarie for the greatest offenders, but especially during the time of this feast, which is the greatest among the Jewes, it was so assured a refuge that the people would assoon have seen their Country ruined, as rhe Temple forced upon any Delinquent how great soever: so that we were no sooner gone in but our enemies stood still at the Gate, without offering any further to pursue us, al­though there were some more violent than the rest (being interested in the wounds of Alexas, or in the loss of some of their companions) who cried out to the Priests to cast us out, for that we were enemies to the King, and that it was by his speciall order that they pursued us; but the good Priests in stead of hearkning to them, received us with a great deal of gentleness, and protested that they would sooner pe­rish than suffer the privileges of their Temple to be violated. The dignity of the Priests is very considera­ble amongst the Jewes, and the office of their high Priests was wont to be executed by the Kings them­selves, for after the death of Hircanus and Aristo­bulus, the Grandfather and brother of Mariamne had that office, and it was at this time conferred on a person very neerly related to the Crown. By this time we saw our selves in perfect safety in the Temple, and our enemies contented themselves with environ­ing the Temple without once offering to put foot within it for to take us; In this condition wee remai­ned the whole night, but assoon as it was day the King [Page 88] understanding the truth of the matter, after that he had sent oftentimes in vain to the Priests▪ desiring them to turn us out, came himself in person in such a rage and fury, that hee strook terrour into all that met him; The Priests understanding that he was at the Gate, went forth to him but as soon as they came to him, they conjured him not to set foot within the Temple. if he came with any other design than that of performing his service to God. Herod remained very furious and it may be he was nor over zealous in the worship of his God, but being very politick like­wise he feared because be knew himself sufficiently hated by the people, to violate any privilege, lest he should thereby occasion a revolt; Hee was told likewise that the Pharisees (who are the most strict Sect in their religion▪ and most considerable among the people) did begin to murmur and that he ought to be afraid at that time of the Feast▪ in regard the City was now filled not onely with Inhabitants, but with people from all parts of Judea. who were then come to that Solemnitie. These considerations made him stay at the Gate of the Temple, but the trouble of his mind was sufficiently seen, not onely in his countenance, but in many expressions which his des­perate rage made him utter; assoon as he began to speak sence or understand reason he acquainted the Priests that the Sanctuary of the Temple was not to be allowed to us that were Infidels, and of a different religion from them; but on the contrary they ought to cast us out, lest our presence should prophane the sanctity of the place But the Priests returned answer, that the sacred Sanctuary was equally extended to all men, and that if for the present we were not in a good [Page 89] way, yet, by the grace of his divine Majesty, we might come into it, and for ought they knew this present calamity, that was now on us, might be a good means to bring us thither: Herod replied, that I had in the first place neglected the rights of hospitality, which were as ancient, and ought as well to be observed, as those of the Temple, and that there ought not to be any refuge in a well-governed kingdom, for that man who had offered violence to the Kings person, and mortally wounded his brother; but notwith­standing all that he could allege, the Priests con­tinued resolute, so that neither by menaces, or fair promises, he could not perswade them to deliver me up into his possession; nay he was no sooner about to come into the Temple, but they thundered out maledictions against him, and sollicited the people for the maintenance of their Privileges; but the Gods are my witnesse, I did not so much doat on my life, as to be so sollicitous about its preservation, yet I suffered my self to be much guided by the intrea­ties of Arsanus, and my other attendants, and of the Priests themselves, who would not have permit­ted me to have gone forth although I should have had a will so to doe; notwithstanding these resentments which I had against Herod, as the persecutor of my life, and the tranquillity of Mariamne, yet I did likewise consider, how much I was obliged to him, for that protection and shelter, which for many years he had afforded me against my brothers cru­eltie; and these thoughts stirred up in me a desire to see him, to the end I might acquaint him, that I had not been so ungratefull for all his favours, nor had I so much deserved his anger, as hee might possibly [Page 90] imagine, and therefore striving with Arsanus, who would have opposed me in this design, I went with­in eight or nine steps of the Gate of the Temple, where he stood disputing and contesting with the Priests from whence I might very well be seen and heard by him: King of the Jews, cried I, I am nei­ther thy subject nor inferiour, and those Gods who gave me my birth, from one of the most illustrious families of the world, will not suffer me to acknow­ledge any other power than theirs: for this cause, I think I have little reason to goe about to justifie my self unto thee, after thou hast so cruelly attemp­ted to take away my life, as well by the Sword as by poison; and doest continue to prosecute me, a­gainst all divine and humane laws, even in the Tem­ples of thy God; but because, I am desirous to sa­tisfie my own conscience, in regard of the curteous entertainment, which heretofore I have received from thee, I think my self obliged to declare unto thee my innocency: I protest therefore unto you, be­fore your Gods and mine, that I have not given you any occasion of offence, amidst all my employments in your service; you have oftentimes had experi­ence to your own advantage, how I have not bin sparing of my blood, or life, for the interests of thy dominions, and for that which concerns thy own person, I protest once more, I am ignorant of any act, that might give you just cause of offence, if that which seemed beautifull unto you, hath been by me thought worthy of veneration and respect: these con­siderations, upon which you only ground my crime can give you no just cause of anger, and I doe hear­tily wish, that this Temple, that serves me for an as­syle [Page 91] against thy fury, might involve me in its ruins, if amongst all my most guilty thoughts, I have entertained any one that might justly deserve your anger: its not to appease your rage, or for fear to lose my life, that I declare to you this truth; I fear not that overmuch, and if upon this occasion I might dye honorably, you would see me much contemn it: but I perceive (that by reason of your blind pas­sion, together with the fury of my enemies, and your own) you comprehend, within the crimes which you object against me, the most pure and unspotted in­nocency in the world; kill him if you please, whose thoughts have not been pleasing to you, although so innocent that they fear not your perfect knowledge, but extend not thy choler to her, who is wholly ig­norant of them; this I offer as an expedient for the quiet of your family and spirit, that if (at the foot of the altar in the presence of the Priests) thou wilt swear to attempt to doe me mischief, but to me on­ly, I will abandon this sanctuary, that doth at pre­sent protect my life from thy fury, and will with­out any further trouble give up my self into thy power. I had continued on my discourse, if the en­raged Herod could have heard me any longer, with­out interruption; he suffered me very patiently to begin my discourse, or at least his choler not giving him leave to speak himself, he was inforced to hear me; but as soon as he perceived with what passion▪ I endeavoured to defend Mariamne, remembring well, how she her self had taken the same care for me, he suffered himself to be further deceived, and his jealousie was much more augmented, so that being no longer able to dissemble his rage, or contain him­self, [Page 92] Traitor cryed he, barbarous wretch, unworthy of that protection which I have given thee, against those that knew thee better than my self, and would not have endeavoured thy destruction, unlesse they had known thy disloyall inclinations: doest thou think to find that shelter against my fury, here in the Tem­ple which I have given thee against the persecuti­ons of thy own brother? canst thou imagine, that the Heavens to whom thy ingratitude is best known, will arme in thy defence against a King, who hath defended thee, but too much? and who received thee into his dominions and own house with so much goodnesse all which thou hast shamefully abused. Ah! Perfidious wretch, doe not expect the protecti­on of God, for crimes which thou canst not excuse, neither before him or any man in the world; and doe not think to tame my choler with thy artifici­all discourse; thou shalt dye for to expiate the crime of ingratitude, and it shall not be thy counsell that I will take, in punishing the complices of this perfi­diousness; he would have said more, and possibly would have contemned all the Privileges, for to have gotten me into his power, if that Socius had not come to the Gate of the Temple, accompanied with many Jews and Roman Souldiers, this Socius was a Roman Senator, who a while before came to Hierusalem, to treat with Herod, concerning some businesses, on the behalf of Augustus the Emperour; the same person who formerly had assisted him with the Roman Army against Antigonus, and who had contributed more than Herod himself, to the defeat and captivity of that poor Prince, he was a person [Page 93] much esteemed of by Herod, as well for his own respect unto whom he stood much endebted, as also in regard of his embassie about which he was at that time employed by the Emperour: this Socius was well acquainted with me, and having seen somewhat in me worthy his affection, he had been alwaies very curteous to me; and therefore understanding the dan­ger I was then incompassed with, he came in great haste to meet with Herod, with an intention to make use of the Emperor his authority for my preserva­tion, and indeed his negotiation was very succes­full, for Herod, as mad and furious as he was, could not but be appeased at the name of Augu­stus, being very fearfull of his Power, and a very great Idolator of his greatness: Socius perswaded him to suffer me to goe to the Emperour, since he had so often desired my company, and declared how much he interessed himself in my preservation; he told him that his proceedings against me were too violent for a Prince of my quality, and that he might well fear the events, especially since they were founded on such slight suppositions, and since he understood that the wounds of Alexas were not dangerous or mor­tall; and that I had wounded him in my own de­fence, which was justifiable before all men; he re­presented to him many other considerations▪ unto which he added for conclusion, the authority of the Emperour, vowing that he would give him an exact account of his proceedings against me, and it was upon this ground that Herod (who was a slave to the Roman power and greatness, without which as­sistance he could not have maintained himself and his authority) yeelded, and not for any other consi­deration: [Page 94] In the conclusion, he was content that I should with my companie goe out of the Temple in safety, upon condition that I should make no longer stay in the City, but get me gone the same day, and have six dayes more time to depart out of his Territo­ries; he engaged his word to Socius (who received it from him in the Emperour his name) that he would not attempt any thing prejudiciall against me, neither in the Citie, nor on the way within the time limited. This was the effect of our capitulation, and it was upon these tearms that I quitted the Temple; after that I had thanked Socius, and the Priests, for the good offices they had done me, in as good language as the sorrow which I had to forsake Mariamne would permit me. I went out of the Town, under the protection of Socius, and divers other Roman soul­diers, who conducted me out of the Gates of Hieru­salem unto a Village not far distant, whither my com­pany had libertie to come the same day. I had now escaped the furie and tyranny of Herod, but I found my self no way freed from the persecutions of my love, and those dangers which I had then avoyded were not to be compared with those which that cruell and sad departure cast me into; and indeed I was no way resolved to undergoe them, but was more willing to suffer a thousand deaths, than to quit perpetually the company of Mariamne. I was no sooner arrived at the place where wee intended to lodge that night, but having called aside Arsanus, I spake to him in this sort; My dear friend, said I, I did yeeld to your Perswasions, and have quitted the Temple and City of Jerusalem, for to avoyd the fu­ry of Herod, and it may be your considerations are [Page 95] vain enough, when as you perswade me to preserve a life which I can never affect in that condition to which its likeIy to be reduced, for if you doe conceive there can be any argument used by you to perswade me utterly to forsake the presence and company of Mariamne, disabuse your self, for its as impossible for me to subsist without her, as without breath, and therefore all that you can possibly allege to me, for to disswade me from the resolution I have taken up to see her this very night if it be possible, will be of no force: as soon as its dark I am resolved in a disguised habit to return to Hierusalem, where I will visit my confiding friend Sohemus, by whose assistance, as also of Philon the Queens Eunuch, I doubt not of an op­portunitie to see her; the attempt is now not so diffi­cult as at any other time, for besides the conveniency of the dark night, and my disguised clothes, the infi­nite concourse of strangers thither by reason of the Feast▪ will so facilitate the compassing of my design, that I shall run no risque at all: besides, Herod can­not imagine that I should so suddenly precipitate my self into a danger which I have so narrowly and freshly escaped; so that I doubt not but with much facilitie, to see the Queen, if the heavens will permit me so great a happiness: at which time I may receive from her mouth the explication of that which I can­not throughly understand by her Paper; If you shall oppose this Design, it will be lost labour, therefore consume no time in labouring to divert my resoluti­ons, and if my life be dear to you, of which I am well satisfied, remember that you ought not to oppose any thing that may contribute to its preservation. Arsa­nus was much astonished at my resolution, but all his [Page 96] arguments were of no force to disswade me from it; and therefore as soon as the night came, I put on the clothes of one of my attendance, and returned in all hast to the City, accompanied onely with one of my servants, leaving Arsanus behind with a design to conceal my departure, and wait for those orders which he should receive from me. I entred the City with little difficulty, neither was I much troubled to keep my self undiscovered, amongst that great afflu­ence of People from all parts: as soon as I came neer to the house of Arsanus, I sent my servant to him, who fortunatly met him at his door, as he came from the Palace: Sohemus was much amazed to see me, for that he thought it a madness for me to cast my self so wilfully into the same danger, which I had with so much difficulty newly escaped. Ha my Lord said he, is it possible that I should see you here in a place where you were this very day in so great danger of losing your life. I prethee wonder not at it, my most dear Sohemus, faid I, for my passion can produce yet more strange effects, and they that have the boldness to cast their affectionate eyes on Mariamne, doe lit­tle valew dangers that may befall them. I am now come hither Sohemus, to desire that from your friend­ship, which you have alwayes promised me, and I ever expected from you I am come to give a visit to the Queen by your favourable means, if it be possi­ble; and if I may be so fortunate by your assistance, you will accomplish that work of gaining a Prince his heart, which by your good offices you have already farre ingaged. Sohemus hearkened unto my request, having a great desire to oblige me, but he found so much difficultie in the means, that he remained a long [Page 97] time silent, without being able to answer me but af­ter that he for sometime debated the matter with him­self; My Lord, said he, you desire from me such effects of my obedience, that are so dangerous and difficult, that I am ignorant how to attempt them: for since yesterday, the Queens actions are more narrowly espi­ed than formerly, for although she hath hitherto esca­ped the Kings desperate rage, which we much feared, yet she is still in a condition no way secure, although I cannot say that she is so diligently watched, but that (if she would consent to the plot) you might with­out danger see her; but as I am afraid as she will not approve of your design, so I doubt she will not doe that which on her part must be done in order to the satisfaction of your desire: for my part I will not be wanting to doe all that in me lieth, and it shall not be through my default, that you shall return without seeing her. I embraced Sohemus at these words, and considering the truth of what he had said; Wee advi­sed some time upon the course that we ought to steer; all wayes seemed to us both difficult and perillous, but in the end we pitched on one that carried with it least appearance of danger; and Sohemus being unwilling to let me make any longer stay in the street, condu­cted me into the Palace by a back door, and little stair-case which led to the chamber of Philo, with whom I was well acquainted: Philo was at that time in the Queens Chamber, but one of his servants at the comming of Sohemus, presently opened the door. Sohemus hastened to the Queens lodging by the same way. During whose absence I remained in the Gallerie in the dark. I will not tire you with all the discourses that Sohemus and Philo had with the [Page 98] Queen, to perswade her to dispose her self to see me: how much anger she expressed against them and me, and with how great difficultie they obtained the grant of so dear a favour; I shall content my self with telling you, that after a long contestation and argument between them, the Queen was content to see me in Cleophe his chamber, which was neer her own, whither she went attended on onely by Cleophe, leaving Sohemus and Philo to stand Sentinel, lest she might be surprised in this conversation. You may possibly have occasion, Madam, to condemn the Queen for this goodness, and you may suppose that in Rigor she could not have looked with so much in­dulgence on my Passion, after so many high marks of an admirable vertue; but when you shall throughly understand the bottome of her intention, you will then justifie her in all that you have cause to reprove her for in this action. Sohemus came to me, for to conduct me into the chamber of Cleophe, whither I went with as little trembling as the retirement of all my spirits would give me leave, I stayed there but a short time, without the company of the Queen, much adoe had I to rally together so much assurance as to look her in the face, as well for want of courage to support her looks, as also for fear I had much displea­sed her, by my importunate exaction of so great a fa­vour, which I had no way deferved; and indeed I perceived she was not therewith very well pleased, whilest I remained prostrate at her feet, without the power to speak one word. Is it possible, said she, that you value so little my repose and reputation, that you will attempt to hazzard them both so apparently, and after all, you will inforce me to see you in the [Page 99] night-time disguised without any other necessity than that of complying with your unjust passion. Should you exact this action from Mariamne, after that you have reduced her, as it were, to the last gasp, and the greatest extremitie, that a Princesse of her qualitie and condition could possibly meet withall? Can you your self defend my present behaviour, in your favour, a­gainst all the rules of prudence and reason? but no Tiridate, said she, sitting down, and forcing me to rise, doe not rashly condemn this action of mine, but suspend your judgement concerning it, untill you see the end of it; if I had not seen you, as for many rea­sons I ought not, I should not have provided for what may happen, as I now intend to doe by the order which I intend to take for your own and my quiet, if it be possible. At these words she remained silent, and I having during her discourse reassumed a little assu­rance, I began to cast my eyes towards her face, whi­ther untill then I durst not look. I confess Madam, said I, that I am yet more guiltie than your goodness hath made me, for although my intentions have al­wayes been innocent, yet these afflictions which you have suffered for my sake, doe make me the most cul­pable of all men; I am now come therefore Madam, to protest to you, that all the blood in my veines, and a thousand more such lives as mine cannot make sa­tisfaction for the least of your displeasures; and to conjure you by all that is either neer or dear to you, to make use of this life of mine for the gaining the quiet of yours, and to employ the hand and courage of Ti­ridate for to free you from all your miseries; I know I have committed another fault in seeking from your goodness this favour, which I can by no means possible [Page 100] deserve: but it seemeth to me very unjust, that since my passion cannot excuse those displeasures which it hath brought on you, that I should retire my self from the persecutions of Herod, and at the same time give you up wholy to his cruelties; this consideration a­lone▪ Madam, hath been powerfull enough to make me shut up my eyes upon the danger to which you now expose your self, by your goodness, and I was of opinion, that if any one at last ought to free you from your miseries, you ought to look upon Tiri­date as a person who is onely worthy of that glory. I am now no longer bound up, either by the laws of hos­pitality, or former obligations, Herod hath wholy de­faced them both by the Sword and Poyson, and ei­ther by one or the other he had infallibly destroyed me had not your goodness preserved me, 'tis to you onely, my divine Queen, that I am engaged for my life, such a one as it is, and would you have me to carry it away with me, without presenting you with the sacrifice of it? it was yours by the gift, and it was for you that it was preserved, and can I now think it reasonable to banish it a­among the Romans instead of comming to offer it to my Soveraign? Ah! no, continued I, casting my self once more at her feet, doe not reject that which can be no bodies but your own. I had said more in the transport that I was then in, had not the Queen prevented me, who commanded me to rise up; forbear sayd she, Tiridate, to make me those offers which I cannot endure without offending my vertue; I have told you a thousand times, that the crimes of He­rod cannot any way warrant mine; and although I owed nothing to the quality of a husband, yet I [Page 101] owe all to my God and my self. I will be free with­out any guilt from my miseries, as soon as the Hea­vens shall so dispose of me, and untill then, I can wait with patience their determined time; this is that, which in few words. I shall offer against that desire which you have expressed to free me from my displeasures, it being not permitted to me, either by divine or humane laws, to make use of your assistance. For that which concerns your departure, you cannot be ingorant Tiridate, that there is an indispensible necessity for it, and for to prepare you for that it is that I am now come hither: I should never have disposed my self to have seen you, with so much danger of my life and reputation, had it not been with an intention to desire you never to see me more; doe not wonder at this discourse, for you have courage and resolution enough to prepare you for it, and it may be so much affection for me, as may make you to consider all those reasons that doe oblige me to desire this favour from you. I need not to tell you that my life can never be in safety, whilst you remain in Judea, since it hath hitherto been so unfortunate, that it is not worthy the taking notice of; but if my honour be dear to you, you ought to re­gard it although it be with the prejudice of your own tranquility, and you ought to remember that after the jealousies of Herod, the malice of Soloma, and the knowledge which I my self have of the faults which I have committed, that the stay of Ti­ridate here any longer, will be incompatible with the reputation of Mariamne. She stayed at these words, during which time I remained without any motion, hearkning to the direfull sentence which [Page 102] she pronounced against me, but after that I had sted­fastly looked on her for some time, in such a posture as might have qualified the rigor of it, had it not been backed with a firm and strong resolution: what Madam said I, will you condemn the unfortunate Tiridate, to a perpetuall banishment, and doe you think to treat him more gently than Herod, by com­manding him to see you no more? if you are of that opinion change it I beseech you, and doe not believe, that any duty or other respect whatsoever can justly obl ge you to doe that which you doe onely for want of affection. The affection that I ought to have for you replied the Queen, with any shew of trouble, is it not such as it may be you pretend, neither can it reasonably exact that from me, which I have done meerly to please you; content your self with this, that I have not requited your respect with incivilitie, neither doe I want esteem for your person, for I be­lieve as to that particular, I have exceeded the bounds that my present condition should have prescribed to me, and therefore (in regard of our perpetuall separa­tion, I conceive I may lawfully make you this protest) I shall tell you, that if the Heavens and my Parents had left me in a capacity to choose a Husband, and that Tiridate had embraced the true Religion, I should have preferred him before all men, that I as yet ever knew. The Queen spake these words with much difficulty, as innocent as they were, and I re­ceived from them so much consolation, as my then dejected spirits were capable of. Ah! Madam said I, how glorious is my destiny and how happy is my fortune, and how little cause have I to complain af­ter so noble a Declaration: but yet Good Gods as [Page 103] fortunate as I am, yet I must submit to a perpetu­all banishment. O cruell sentence, which is enough to overbalance the glory you give me. O! hard judgement of death, and yet ought, without mur­muring to submit unto, since my Queen hath pro­nounced it: no Madam, its not reasonable that I should disturbe your tranquillitie, its not just that I should put your life in danger, neither is it seemly that I should cast any bleamish on your reputation: but its likewise more unjust that I should abandon you to the mercy of Herod, and that I should strive to shelter my self in a harbor, whilst you continue in a storm. Shall my eyes be perpetually shut against that onely light which my soul is sensible of, and shall Herod and the Jewish people onely enjoy that divine brightness, which I must everlastingly forsake? if you shall be pleased to bound my banish­ment with some limits, or if you shall please to give me some time to prepare my self▪ during which, by the assistance of Sohemus, it may be permitted to me to see you, I will doe all that possible I may to make my spirits stoop to your commands, without the least grudging: but to be gone on a suddain, and so to goe, as never to think of returning, is so hard a Chapter for me to learn, that I shall never overcome it; nay the very thought of it is enough to cast me into de­spair. I added much more to the same purpose, which the Queen hearkned unto with great patience, but not with so much constancy but that (either out of the consideration of her condition, which I had represented unto her, or out of pitty for my misfor­tune) she let-fall many a salt tear from her fair eyes: she was angry (as I suppose) when I took notice of it, [Page 104] and being willing to dissolve this dangerous meeting, she rose up from the chair in which she sate, and com­ming to me with a more resolved countenance, then hitherto I had observed her to have, Tiridate said she, you seem to be much troubled to quit my com­panie, and yet I think your coutage is capable to o­vercome things of the greatest difficultie, and there­fore if I have any power over you, I will employ it wholy in desiring you to support with patience, for my sake, this separation, and this is the last assurance that I demand from your affection, and I beg it so peremptorily that you cannot deny it, without de­stroying all these impressions which you have made on my spirits; be not so over sollicitous of my quiet, nor be so much troubled to leave me in this con­dition, for although I remain in the power of He­rod, yet I am not so void of succors as you may ima­gine, and I have a defender in the Heavens, who will never fail me of his protection, against the cruelty of my Husband: It is with him, I find my onely re­fuge and consolation, and from him might you re­ceive the same assistance, were you inlightned with his divine light. Farewell [...]iridate, I give you my last farewell, if you think sometimes on me, yet I pray forget my failings, and the faults that you have cau­sed me to commit. She seeing me by this time at her feet, in a condition not able to reply, stooped down, and taking my head in her hands, kissed my fore­head, and that was the greatest and most remarke­able favour that ever I received from Mariamne; which she had no sooner bestowed on me, but shee withdrew into her Chamber, where shutting the door after her, I was perpetually deprived of her sight. [Page 105] Tiridate had his heart so overwhelmed with sorrow at this said part of his narrative, that it had bin im­possible for him to continue on his discourse, with­out giving way to a multitude of sighs, which abun­dantly crowed out of his sorrowfull breast: the fair Queen was likewise so sensibly touched with com­passion, that she could not refrain from shedding ma­ny a christall tear. As soon as he had recovered his spirits, I know not Madam said he how to proceed, the rest of my life being neither worthy your atten­tion or my own patience to tell it; you may well imagin with what regret I saw my self inforced to live, and support my displeasures, by the command of Mariamne; for I protest unto you really, that it was not the fear of death, that made me to regard the preservation of my life, and it was not falsly that I disposed my self religiously to observe the commands of my Queen. I went out of the Palace and Town, by Sohemus his assistance, and came after all to the place where I had left my companie, and so went onward in our way to Rome as wee had before designed, and after some time arrived at the Court of Augustus: I believe Madam, you are willing I should lightly passe over that troublesome voyage, and that tiresome sojourn that I made at the Emperour his Court, there hapned nothing through­out the passage of that business capable to divert you, and indeed the grief which the renewing of my miseries hath cast me into, hath made me uncapable any longer to entertain you, you may be pleased one­ly to take notice, that I ever loved afterwards dark­ness and melancholy, and the caresses of the Em­perour, who received me and treated me with abun­dance [Page 106] of affection, together with all the Pomps and glory of Rome, and all those divertisements which a man might take in the Mistres of the World, could never unty for so much as for one moment, the knot of my displeasures; for having continued there a whole year without one minutes rest, the fear which I had to make my companie insupportable to the Emperour, and the whole Court, made me leave them without any other design or intention, than that of stirring a maladie that would never suffer me to be at rest; and then after a tedious rambling over Land and Sea, I was at last cast on this shore, where I have most deplorably spent my time, yet more comforma­bly to my present condition, than that which I have met withall in the Courts of Kings; there remaineth for me onely to tell you, that having well con­sidered the command of Mariamne, about a moneth since, and finding onely that shee had for­bid me her sight, but had not layed any command on me, not to inform my self of her condition, I dispatched away the faithfull Arsanus into Judea, to the end I might hear something from her, he under­took this voyage out of hopes of making some stay there undiscovered, and that possibly he might find the Queen in a condition to recall her command, and consequently my self to her: I expect every day his return, in this solitary house, that I have hired of one of the Inhabitants of Alexandria for so long time as I shall continue here, and I must confess that I have found in this solitude more sweetness and refreshment than (I could ever have hoped for from those conti­nuall troubles wherewith my spirits are agitated) from the happiness I have had in serving and lodging [Page 107] so great a Princesse. Thus ended Tiridate his dis­course, and the Queen, who had hearkened to him with a marvellous attention, could not but discover by her action and words, how much she interessed her self in his fortune. I have been so much troubled, said she, (after some other discourse) as is possible for one to be for the misfortunes of a great and vertuous Prince, whom the heavens have cruelly persecuted, but as I cannot but commend your respectfull affe­ction, so cannot I but admire the vertue of the Queen Mariamne, who amidst so many just occasions to hate her Husband, hath so magnanimously resisted those high marks of your love, and the promptings of her own inclinations, which according to my judge­ment were much towards you: its true that she was thereunto obliged by the rules of her duty, but its as true, that its a very hard matter for to observe them, when as so great occasions offer themselves to make one to dispence with them; it being very difficult for any one to defend her self against the good qualities of such a Prince as Tiridate. Tiridate returned a very submissive answer to this obliging discourse, and had continued on, had not the Queens supper been served up, whom Tiridate out of respect suffered to sup alone, for that she lay on her bed; and further, conceiving that she might desire to repose her self that night, he took his leave of her, and bid her good night, but before he was quite gon out of the Chamber, the Queen spake to him in this sort, It is not fit, said she, that you should be any longer ignorant of the name and fortune of her, who is engaged to you for her life, and for the good entertainment which you give her; Etiockle, said she, (pointing to the man that was [Page 108] saved with her) shall acquaint you with the begin­ning, and after that you have been informed by him concerning those accidents which preceded mine, all which he can best relate of any body living, you shall understand from my own mouth the particular passa­ges of my life. Tiridate thanked the Queen very ci­villy for the favour which she had offered him, and retired out of her Chamber into his own, where he spent that whole night in his restless condition. In the morning as soon as he awaked, he saw Eteockle come towards him, who bad him good morrow; the Prince caused him to come neer him, and remembring that it was from that person that he was to understand the beginning of those adventures which hee longed to hear, made him to sit by his bed side; You see, said he, I am very curious, and will not easily dispence with the charge that the Queen hath given you, you cannot have a more convenient time, or place, for to satisfie my longing desire, for its now so early, that I believe we cannot see the Queen this three houres without incommoding her. I believe, my Lord, said Etcockle, that this whole mornings rest will be little enough after yesterdayes labour, and I cannot better bestow my time, than by giving to you and her this mark of my obedience, which you desire, thereupon making a pause for some time, he began his discourse as fol­loweth.

The Historie of Julius Caesar, and of the Queen Cleopatra.

BEfore I shall enter upon the life of this great Queen, whom for the present I have the honour to serve, I must of necessitie spend some time upon another Queen more famous than any that preceded her, as well for her greatness▪ as her beauty and manner of living: you may well imagine that its of the Queen Cleopatra, that I am about to speak of, whose name was not onely known in this Coun­trey where she reigned, but over the whole world; her name was, and will be famous in all ages to come: every body knoweth what befell her by means of M. Anthony, and therefore I shall not have need to stay long upon that subject; but because her ene­mies have endeavoured to stain her reputation in the business which hapned to her with Julius Caesar, I hold my self particularly obliged in conscience (be­ing a person who was throughly acquainted with that affair, and knew as much of it as any body) to justi­fie her against all those calumnies; and therefore will in a few words without prolixitie, give you an exact account of the management of that business. The Queen Cleopatra, was the Daughter of King Ptolo­mie, surnamed Auletus, who without doubt you know very well, and she with her Brother King Pto­lomie, came of that noble race of Kings, who ever since the great Ptolomeus (who was the friend and Successor of Alexander) have reigned in Egypt, without discontinuance. This Princess was born [Page 110] with all the good qualities and endowments which the Gods and Nature could possibly bestow on a mor­tall person: her outward beauty was so excellent, that it surpassed all womens that lived in her time, and her inward qualifications were seconded with the same advantages, and the greatness of her courage farre exceeded her Sex; I should say more of her, had not her fame and renown been spread throughout the whole world, and had not her heavenly gifts proved too fatall to her for me to discourse of them without displeasure: but the Prince Ptolomie her brother, was naturally enclined to vice, and not onely bad of him­self, but suffered himself to be so farre corrupted by his Court flatterers and sycophants, that in a short time by their pernicious Counsells, he had quite lost all those good impressions which his high birth had given him, and in the end ran himseif into those acti­ons which utterly ruined him. He came to the Crown very young, by reason of his Fathers death, the liber­tie which he might have in an absolute Power engul­phed him in all manner of vice, insomuch that the Egyptian people sadly observing the beginnings of his Reign, and being much troubled to see themselves subject to a Prince whom they thought unworthy to Govern them, they looked upon Cleopatra, who was different from her Brother, as well in vertue and ma­jestie, as in all other qualifications, which might make a Princesse worthy of Soveraign authority, and were grieved at nothing more than the obstacles which her sex gave to their desires; So that in fine, they shewed upon all occasions, how much more they desired her Reign than her Brother Ptolomies, or rather of Poth­mius, Theodorus, and Ganimedes, with the rest of the [Page 111] knot of flatterers, whom he had raked out of the dirt, for to advance them to the highest degrees of honour and rule, these unworthy favorits, being sensible of the credit of Cleopatra with the Egyptians, soon made her to be suspected by her brother, and insinuated into him, that he ought to destroy her: the wicked Prince made no delay to put their Counsell in exe­cution, but the Princesse having bin informed of his bad intentions, retired from the Court and fled for shelter amongst those Egyptians, which she thought were most affectionate and faithfull to her; neither was she deceived in the confidence she had in them, for a good part of the Kingdome armed themselves in her defence, and many Cities declared for her, and though her partie was not the greatest, yet it was composed of the honestest and best reputed men of the Country; so that by reason of the justnesse of her cause, she defended her self very gallantly a long time, against all the Kings strength and power, but in the end, after many advantages, which the number of his troops had gotten him, he besieged the Princesse in the City of Pelouse, where she was retired for to save her self: 'twas about this siege that he was em­ployed, when as the unfortunate Pompey (that ter­rible example of fortunes inconstancy) who after that he had triumphed over three parts of the world, and by a great number of victories had equalled his reputation with that of Alexander the great, sa­ving himself from the battail of Pharsale, came and cast himself into his protection, against the pursuit of his enemy and Conqueror: certainly Ptolomie ought to have given all sort of honour and assistance to the vertue and worth of this great Captain, and without [Page 112] question any one but himself, would have received him with the greatest civility and respect, who a few dayes before, had bin the greatest of men, but this wicked Prince considering his present low condition, and not looking after his vertue, and (hearkning to the pernicious counsels of Pothimus and the rest, who perswaded him that by murthering Pompey he might gain upon the affections of his enemy) against all divine and humane law, massacred this unfortunate great Prince, neer Pelouse in the sight of his wife Cornelia, who hardly escaped the same destinie; the opinion I have of your through knowledge of this deplorable story, doth make me forbear to enlarge on that subject; a few dayes after, Ptolomie hearing that Caesar intended to come into Egypt, and know­ing that he would disaprove the cruell war that he had made against bis Sister, raised the siege from Pelouse, and went to Alexandria, where he imagi­ned he was to land. Cleopatra, no sooner saw her self free from the siege, but by the advice of her friends, and particularly of Apollodorus my Father (by whom she was wont to be much guided) shee resolved to goe and cast her self at Caesars feet, and desire his protection, before he arrived at Alexan­dria; this design was suddainly set on foot, so that within a very short time, she transported her self with some light vessels, to the Isle of Farum, where she understood that Caesar intended to spend some time; I was one of those that waited on her thither, and because of the faithfull service which my Father had done her, was one that had the greatest accesse to her, and much credit with her. Caesar hearing of her arrivall, came very civilly to visit her; now for that [Page 113] I was present at their first interview, I will give you a particular account of it; Cleopatra to gain the bet­ter successe in her businesse, had adorned her natu­rall beauties with her richest and most splended at­tire, which she was wont to make use of when she intended to set off her self with the greatest advan­tage: but yet though she had habited her self con­formable to her condition, and that she had rather studied mourning then Pomp, in an action where she was to appear as a supplicant or sutor; yet some­thing would have accompanied her mourning, that would have been more glorious and pompous than gold and pretious stones, her eys sparkled with fire a thousand times brighter than Diamonds, and the Majestie of her port and countenance would have better declared her qualitie, than a huge train of at­tending servants: her sight astonished Caesar, and all those that came with him; sure I am, that the coun­tenance of that great man (the greatest not onely in that age, but in all ages before and after him) im­pressed such a respect on our spirits, that we looked on him as a God; that vast reputation which he had acquired, in gaining an hundred battails against the most redoubted and valorous people of the universe, yea and the Romans themselves, whom he had sub­jugated to his obedience, with forces far inferiour in number to theirs, made us look on him with admi­rable veneration; and to speak truly, he had a face, that did not bely the dignity and greatness of his actions; for although we saw not those lineaments which with his youthfull dayes were vanished, yet we could see plainly all the marks of true greatness, shine through him; his tone was so imperious, al­though [Page 114] tempered with sweetness, that it would bee hard to take him for other than the absolute Ma­ster of the world; and indeed both Caesar and Cleo­patra continued a while together without speaking to each other discovering by their looks and silence their mutuall admiration; but in the end, Cleopatra, considering that she was before him who was to establish her repose and fortune, or rather before the master of her destiny, overcomming her naturall courage, and taking on her a degree of humility be­yond her custome, cast her self at Caesar his feet, and resisting the instant intreaties and endeavours, which he used to raise her up, thou seest great Emperour, said she, thou seest at thy feet, the daughter of Pto­lomie, who desires that from thee against a cruell brother, which she might expect from him against forraign enemies, oppressed innocence and weakness doe implore thy assistance, and thy generous good­ness cannot more justly employ it self, than in pro­tecting a Princess, cruelly persecuted in her fortune, tranquility, and life, amidst those territories which my Father hath possessed, and of which I have a lawfull claim to a part I am wholy destitute of a retreat, without it be by thy favour, and if that be denied me, I may suddainly give satisfaction to the cruelty of a brother, who will not be moved to com­passion, either by relations of blood, or consideration of my sex and young years; let me not I beseech you, uneffectually embrace these victorious knees, before which all humane greatness ought to abase it self, but make it appear to all the world that thou art great and that thou art Caesar, by thy pitty and goodness, as thou hast already done by those trium­phant [Page 115] Arms, which have made thee Master, not onely of Rome, but of the whole world besides. The fair Princess had undoubtedly continued on her discourse, if Caesar who could not hearken to her, and see her at his feet (although he had been accustomed to see many a great King in the same posture) had not employed with his intreaties, the force of his Arms to raise her up, which when he had done & saw her in a posture more befitting her beauty. Fear not Cleopatra, said he, the Roman force shall protect thee against the crueltie of thy Brother, if he will not otherwise hearken to our desires; and we will not quit Egypt before we have secured thy life and fortune. Hee uttered these few words with a Roman gravitie, and majestie sutable to his condition, but a while after, entring into discourse with the Princess, he met with so many charms, that he was suddenly becalmed, and lost his gravitie, and would no longer discourse with her, but in a very hum­ble and submissive manner: after that he had secured her from her fears, with his fair & noble promises never to forsake her, he told her that he would conduct her to Alexandria, and present her to her Brother, and then put her in possession of that part of the Kingdome, which of right did belong to her: Cleopatra could not resolve to accompany him thither, without some difficulty, for that she was well acquainted with her brothers malicious nature, but at the last she was constrained to comply with the will of Caesar, who would absolutely have her so to doe and had dis­patched away one of his Principall officers to Ptolo­mie, for to acquaint him that he could not see him as a friend, and ally of the people of Rome, if from him he would not receive Cleopatra, and be reconciled to [Page 116] her. Ptolomie received that order with so much in­ward indignation, that he was about to act some sud­den mifchief, had he not been afraid of the Roman power, and therefore he thought it best to dissemble his ranckor, untill he had a fitter opportunitie to de­clare it; he prepared himself to submit (although much against his stomack) to the law that was impo­sed on him; and in the mean time, to gratifie Caesar, he sent by that wicked Theodorus the head of the great Pompie; but he was frustrate of his expectation, and deceived in his opinion: for that Generous Con­querour in stead of accepting the present, refused to see it, and commanded the bringer of it to get him gone, after that he had sufficiently inveighed against the infidelitie of his Master: he continued on his De­sign nevertheless of going to Alexandria, where be­ing arrived, he was nobly received by Ptolomie, with many feigned demonstrations of friendship: Cleopa­tra was likewise caressed by him upon the same ac­count, and Ptolomie protested to Caesar, that he was ready to let her partake of the Government, and was willing to be reconciled to her; So Cleopatra forgat all cause of complaint; and many dayes were ther spent in feastings, and other Court divertisements; but the spirit of Caesar as great and invincible as it was, could not defend it self against the charms of Cleopa­tra. This Conquerour of the world, suffered himself to be conquered by the beauty of a woman, and he met with that in her sight and conversation which he had not found in that infinite number of battels which he had fought; But it will not seem a wonder to those who knew that great Queen, for any man would have much to doe to preserve his libertie, when [Page 117] she suffered her charms to employ their forces. Before that he discovered openly his passion to the Princess, his looks and actions did sufficiently bewray it, and as soon as he thought she was in a disposition to hearken to him, he acquainted her with the torments that he underwent for her. Cleopatra was one of the most ambitious women in the world, and therefore could very well brook the submission of the greatest of men. She had so good an opinion of her Perfections, that she thought they were capable to make the most in­sensible creature in love with them, and therefore ob­serving the actions of Caesar, she rightly judged what ayled him, before he opened his mind fully to her. The first time that he mentioned any thing of that nature, was in the Gallerie of the Palace, where wal­king some time courteously with her, and discoursing of the order that he would take for the settlement of her affairs. The Princess returned an acknowledge­ment for his favours, in very civill and thankfull tearms, and from that he took his first occasion to discover his thoughts, and therefore when he had pre­pared her, by his looks, for the discourse he intended. I never thought, said he, to receive such a recompence for the service I have done you, and if you had well requited me, you would not have undermined my own tranquilitie, whilst I am busied in the establish­ment of yours; Doe not marvell at this language, said he, in a tone more serious; for in endeavouring to procure your freedome, I have cast my own at your feet, and I am the first that must stoop to that Empire, which I designed to give you in Egypt: I had used the means to defend my self against you, as I have done against those that fortune hath heretofore made my [Page 118] enemies, had I not foreseen that they would have proved fruitlesse, and had I not found too much glory in my defeat, for to dispute with you for the victorie. I doe therefore give my self up wholly to you▪ most fair Cleopatra, with as much satisfaction, as I should doe to the most glorious Conquerour in the world, and to such a Conquerour, whose goodnesse I may implore without shame or dishonour: make use therefore of your victorie as your goodness shall per­swade you, and remember that you are both noble and generous, and therefore ought not to abuse it: These were the first words of Caesar, and the Princess who liked well enough this Declaration, not being able to expect more glorious effects of her vertue than in the conquest of so brave a spirit, after she had a while considered with her self, replied in this sort; I have not so good an opinion, my Lord, of that little beauty which the Gods have given me, or any other qualities and perfections that are esteemed by men, for to believe that they have given me any command over him, to whom the whole world doth homage, neither can I imagie that the Conquerour of the world should be thus easily ensnared, the Gods having for­med him with a nature so little different from their own▪ that all mortall beauties can only vainly pre­tend to such a conquest; neither indeed would it be equitable, that after you have deprived so great a part of the world of their libertie, that you should lose your own, for a Princess, who owes you hers, and is particularly engaged to you for her safety; neverthe­less, my Lord, I receive this discourse of yours with that respect which I owe to great Caesar, and my own benefactor, and therefore if his spirits can find any re­freshment [Page 119] in this kind of conversation amidst its great employments, I shall not be sorry that I have administred him this occasion, provided he take notice that I can suffer any thing from him as my master and protector. Cleopatra ended her discourse, looking on Caesars countenance in so pleasing a sort, that her smiles were enough to perswade him that she had spoken against her thoughts, and indeed she looked on him with an action so sweet and majestick, that it seemed to be composed of nothing else but the graces themselves; her eyes at that time sparkled out so much light, that they encreased the fire that was already kindled in the breast of great Caesar, and gave such a redoublement of his Passions that he could scarce hold from suffering it violently to break out upon the place, yet with much adoe he refrained himself, and looking on the Princess in such a fashion as did not ill represent his passion; I should be much offended with you, said he, that you spake against your knowledge, when you so much undervalued that Power which hath overcome me, it may occasion yet greater effects, and those advantages which my courage hath given me with the help of Fortune against many men, are no way able to protect me at this time, I will willingly give my life for the confirmation of this truth, if you doe not contemn it, and with it will cast at your feet all the vowes and protestations that you can possibly receive, not onely from your Master and Protector, as you are pleased to call him, but from him, who is re­solved to consecrate the rest of his daies, to the most divine Cleopatra, with a full and absolute submission and obedience. He had proceeded in his discourse, had he not espied King Ptolomie comming towards him, [Page 120] who for that time hindred the pursute of his discourse, but he went on with it the next day, so that both by his language and actions, he gave to Cleopatra so ma­ny assurances of his Passion, that she could no longer doubt of the reality of it; With this knowledge she behaved her self very prudently, and reservedly; for though shee was carefull not to give that man occasion to complain, from whom shee expected her support, and upon whom her quiet, and for­tune absolutely depended, yet shee so wisely car­ried the business, that he could never gain any ad­vantage against her, nor find cause to blame her, ei­ther of rigour or frowardness; she much pleased her self with the glory in overcomming him, whom the greatest Powers in the world could never resist; for besides the noise of his actions, Caesars person was capable to make it self beloved, for though he had not all those advantages which doe commonly attend on youth, yet he seemed to be in the vigor of his age, and had a mind so high and majestick, that was suffi­cient to impress respect on all those that did behold him. Cleopatra, who had eyes to look on him as well as others, and knew her self to be particularly obli­ged to him, for his good offices and affection, was much taken with him, and had begun to engage her self, when as the affaires of Egypt received that me­morable revolution, of which I doubt not but you have heard, and for this cause will abridge the relati­on of it as much as possibly I can; Whilst that Caesar gave up himself wholly to his love, and endeavoured to gain the affections of Cleopatra, by all the assu­rances that he could give her, the wicked Ptolomie and his perfidious counsellours were busied about [Page 121] another Design; they found in Caesar, as they thought, very little acknowledgement for the service they had done him in killing the great Pompie, and indeed that generous spirit who hated such baseness and treachery had shewed much disrespect to all those who had been engaged in that black perfidiousness. And besides, Ptolomie perceived with disdain the love that Caesar entertained for his Sister, and feared (not without cause) the assistance that he might give her in the di­vision of the Government of the Kingdome, these considerations being joyned with the perpetuall coun­cels and insinuations of Pothimus, Achillas, Theo­dore, and the rest of that perfidious crew, made him in conclusion to resolve to serve Caesar with the same sauce, as he had done Pompie, and in effect to mur­ther both him and his Sister Cleopatra. Caesar had lodged in Alexandria onely some of his neerest friends and souldiers, having for the ease of the Citi­zens left almost his whole force in the Isle Farion whose situation is so neer Alexandria, that one may see it out of the windowes of the Palace. Ptolomie thought that hee might take the advantage of this rancounter for to put in execution his design, and therefore gave out private orders for the sudden ral­lying of his Army, with an intention to draw them into Alexandria, and in the mean time tampered with all those that were in the Town, whom he knew to be at his devotion: His design was ill formed, as ill prosecuted, and worse executed; and its very likely that the Gods who abhorred such a wickedness, blin­ded them throughout their whole management of it. Caesar was in the chamber of Cleopatra, when as newes was brought him, that all the Town was in [Page 122] Arms, and that Pothimius one of the murderers of Pompie, was marching towards the Palace, in the head of a great company, with an intention to kill him, at a feast which he intended to be at that day: Caesar was not negligent upon this news, but with all hast and dilligence rallied together all those of his party and friends which were near him, and then went forth of the Palace to meet with the conspira­tors with such an assurance, as might well become his greatness, but before he went out of the Princess her Chamber, Madam said he, Its not I that doe covet your brothers ruin, but the Heavens which will not suffer so wicked a man to live, doe now pro­vide for you the Crown of Egypt, I am now going to fight both for you and my self, and I promise with my victory, to gain both our revenge. Cleopatra had not then time to reply, for that he made so much haste to be gone, but yet she accompanied him with her eyes so far as she could, and beeing well satisfied that he was about to engage in their common interests, she made many vows in his favour, for the successe of his armes; the traitors perceiving their plots dis­covered, resolved to fight it out couragiously, so that for some time the successe was very dubious, al­though at the last Caesar, either by reason of the just­ness of his cause, or his own admirable valour, re­mained victorious, Pothimius was killed on the place, with abundance of his souldiers, and Achil­las, with those that could follow him, fled out of the town after Ptolomy, who upon the first notice of the ill successe of his plots, retired in all haste to his army: Caesar might have stood on his guard in A­lexandria, if he had so pleased, for that Cleopatra's [Page 123] faction was not the fewest in number, or least in strength, but he chose rather to retire to his troops, that so he might give battell to Ptolomie, and hea­ring that the contrary party in Alexandria, endea­voured to stop up his passage, by sending away the vessels, he fell upon them with that little handfull of men that followed him, and did such execution on them, that if any one but Caesar had done it, it would have been looked on as an extraordinary mi­racle: yet he was then in greater danger then ever he had bin amidst the greatest Battels, for being no longer able to defend himself against the number of enemies, who encreased every moment, he was fain to leap hastily into a boat, to gain the Isle where his army lay, which his enemies perceiving, they assaulted him on all sides so furiously, that he being no longer able to defend himself against their rage, was enforced to quit his boat, and by swimming to the Isle, which was not farre distant, to save him­self, which with much danger and dexterity he performed; but being gotten at last in safety to his Army he presently disposed them to fight, and cau­sed them to goe aboard his vessels, and to row direct­ly towards the Army of Ptolomie, who conducted by his unfortunate destiny, made up with full sails to­wards him: the conflict was a while both dubious and bloody. I shall forbear to acquaint you with any more particulars, because I believe that I have told you already many things, that you very well know; it will be enough to tell you, that Caesar remained alwaies Caesar, and the Egyptians received a very re­markeable overthrow, and their King falling into the water was soon drowned by reason of the weight of his armour, his body was not found untill the day [Page 124] after, at which time he was taken up, covered with a guilded Helmet, half buried in the sands: after this notable victory, Caesar advanced towards the town, where at the Gate he met with Cleopatra, and many Citizens, who begged pardon for the rest, who by the Kings Authority had bin induced to take up armes against him, she obtained from him all that she de­sired, after which he entered into the Citie and Pa­lace, in a triumphing and pompous manner: So sud­dain execution was never known or heard of, nei­ther were there ever so great troubles and commo­tions so soon allayed and quieted, for the wicked Counsellours of Ptolomie were either slain or run a­way, and the rest of the Egyptians quietly submit­ted to Caesar without any murmuring. He told Cleo­patra that for her sake, he deplored her brothers death, but he withall represented to her, the little occasion that she had to be afflicted for his death, after she had shed a few tears, which her excellent nature could not deny him, she suddainly received those consola­tions which were applied to her; she observed his funerall rites with much solemnitie, and the day af­ter Caesar having assembled the estates of Egypt, gave to her the Crown and Kingdome, with their Generall approbation and consent: all those Egyp­tians who liked better her Government, than that of Ptolomie, received her with much joy and sattis­faction, and gave publick thanks to Caesar for so no­ble a gift; But those troubles which afflicted the mind of Caesar were not appeased with those of Egypt, for though he gave the people an outward peace, yet he kept for himself an inward War, hee every day complained to Cleopatra of it, and the [Page 125] fair Queen, who thought her self infinitely engaged to him for this last obligation, behaved her self in the most courteous manner towards him as was pos­sible for her without injuring her honour. As he sate with her one day on her Bed, where after a long discourse which would be to tedious to relate, hee took her hands and fixing his lips on them, I dye fair Queen, said he, in a very passionate tone, I dye, un­lesse, by your pitty, I am taken out of the sepulcher, and I protest by these fair eyes that I adore with so much reverence, its impossible for me to live any longer, except you prolong my life by your goodness. I should be much afflicted, replyed the Queen, to see you in any danger, after so many obligations that I have received from great Caesar, and the particular esteem that I have for his person, will make me con­tribute my assistance to comfort and content him; you might said he, both sattisfy me, and make me the happiest man that ever lived, if you would be pleased to give up your self wholy to me, like as I have done to you: this is the price that you may give in satisfaction for the gift I have given you; not of a crown for that I esteem very little, but of a heart and spirit, which shall be eternally yours, and so yours, that I have reserved no power over them for my self. This noble present, replyed the Queen cannot be pay­ed but with the price you aske, and a thousand such lives as Cleopatra's are not to be valued, in respect of the heart of great Caesar. I would willingly there­fore give my self wholy to you, as you desire, my Lord, (casting down her eyes with some kind of shame) if I could see the way open and honourable: I am a Princesse, daughter of a long race of Kings, [Page 126] I am a Queen by your goodness, and that which is beyond all, is, that I have triumphed over the soul of great Caesar by his own confession; these advantages, my Lord, which doe place me in a rank so considera­ble amongst women doe oblige me to preserve my reputation unspotted, and I should without doubt, make my self altogether unworthy of my birth, pre­sent honour, and of the affections of great Caesar, if I should give up my self to him any other way than by that which his vertue may approve of. She stayed at these words, thinking that she had said enough to discover her intention, and Caesar, (though he was not unacquainted with the disposition of Cleopatra, yet for some State maximes and relations to the Re­publick, shunned a more clear Declaration) was as it were put to a non-plus, hee was not as yet resolved to marry her, for that hee thought Rome would dislike the alliance, and for that hee thought it might prejudice his Design, of ma­king himself master of it, which a while after hee effected, and yet saw himself obliged to say something; he continued a while silent, not knowing which way to return an answer after so many open protestations of affection, at the last he began to speak, looking up from the ground, where he had for some time kept his eyes fixed, you merit, said he, a condition more glorious than that which might make lawfull those favours which I desire from you, and Caesar cannot possibly find a Spouse in the whole world, more worthy of that qualitie than the Queen Cleopatra; and I doe further protest to you, that if I had been free in mine election. I should long ere this have let you known how passionatly I doe desire so [Page 127] great a happiness: but for the present, I am so linked to the interests of the Common-wealth, that I cannot well resolve on a marriage, without their consent; yet I shall endeavour to let you know, that I am wholly yours by passing over these considerations, and within a few dayes I doubt not but I shall sufficiently mani­fest to you the realitie of my affection. Caesar with­drew himself after he had so said, without staying for a reply; but from that time forward the Queen lived more retired from his company than she had former­ly done▪ and would no longer suffer him to use that small freedome, which untill that time she had not denied him. Caesar was somewhat troubled to see this alteration, but when he began to complain of it, My Lord, said she, you are too noble and just for to desire that from me, which I cannot grant without my utter ruine, and therefore since I cannot pretend to so high a qualitie as might authorize it, I pray be pleased rather to take from me again that Crown which you have given me, yea, and my life too, than urge me to those Actions, which neither your greatness, nor the obligations that I have received from you can warrant Caesar his mouth was by this means stopt, but after that he had in vain often-times reiterated the same thing, he resolved with himself on that which a few dayes after he put in execution: for having de­sired of the Queen a private audience, he went to her chamber attended on onely by Lucius Mattellus, and Caius Lambinus, who were two of his most con­fiding friends, where he found the Queen ready to receive him in the same equipage which he desired, ac­companied with no body but Charmionna and Jra [...] (two of her principall maids) my Father and my self; Caesar looking about very earnestly, seeing no [Page 128] body present but us (who he knew were meerly lin­ked to the Queens interests) was very glad that he was like to have no other witnesses of his intended actions: After his usuall civilities to the Queen, Ma­dam, said he, I have been for some time bound up by many reasons from paying the debt which I owe to your vertue, and my own love, but at the last, I have resolved to exceed the bounds which those inhumane maximes might prescribe me, and to give up my self wholly to you, in an honourable and lawfull way, as I have already done by a violent and reall passion, but because the Marriage which I intend to contract with you, may not be declared openly, without ruining the design which I have of giving you the Crown of the Universe, I doe desire that none may know it, but those who are now present with you, and those two neer friends which I have brought along with me, for to be witnesses of the action, it shall be in their pre­sence, and the Gods, that I am resolved to knit the conjugall knot presently, if you so think good, and this action, which for some time may be kept secret untill I am returned to Rome, and have established there my intended Authority, may then be published to the whole world, and solemnized with all the Pomp and Magnificence that we can desire. Caesar used many other arguments to perswade the Queen to conform to his desires, and overcome all those diffi­culties which might hinder her complyance with this proposition. Shee debated with her self for some time upon the resolution that she should take up, but at the last hearkening to the advice of her Maides, my Father and my self (if I may so say) but more then all to the belief which she had, that such a person as [Page 129] Caesar could never break his promise given to a Prin­cess, in the presence of six witnesses, who would al­wayes be ready to convince him of unfaithfulness before the Gods and men in case he should violate his faith. In fine, either upon good reason or through weakness, she was perswaded to comply with his de­sires; So that Caesar taking her by the hand, after that he had invoked the Gods to be witnesses of his acti­ons, protested openly that he received her as his Wife, and that he would never acknowledge any other; all which protestations he sealed with a Kisse, which he publickly gave her in our presence, and so to hold you no longer in suspence, the company withdrew when they thought their presence was no longer necessary, and Caesar remaining alone with the Queen, made himself possessor of that admirable beautie, which was envied and adored by all the Princes of Asia. Good Gods cried Tiridate, with a profound sigh, who are the Soveraign Judges of our Destinies, what hath the wretched Tiridate committed, that you should make him lead so unfortunate and miserable a life, whilst that you accumulate so great successes and happinesses on other men? He said no more but these few words which he uttered very passionatly with his eyes lifted up to the heavens, and soon after Eteockle continued on his discourse.

CLEOPATRA, The first part, the third Book.

AFter that fatall day, which I know not whether I may call happy or unfortunate▪ the great Caesar, and beautifull Cleopatra, lived toge­ther very deliciously and comfor­tably; for although this marriage was kept secret, and no body knew of it but the company before mentioned, and that in the day-time they seemed as strange, kept the same distance, and observed the same Ceremonie as for­merly, yet every night they enjoyed each others com­pany with abundance of freedome; and indeed there was never a business better carried on, or that gave greater pleasure to those that were acquainted with it; for Cleopatra seemed not to live but in Caesar, and Caesar seemed to worship no other Deity than Cleopatra; and indeed all the symptomes of an ardent affection were apparently visible amongst them, all the Court of Egypt seemed to participate in their con­tentments, although they knew nothing of them, in­somuch that there was scarce ever seen in Rome it self greater Pomp than was at that time in Alexandria: [Page 131] every body knows that Cleepatra was one of the most magnificent Queens that ever lived, not onely in her stately entertainments, splendid feastings, and rare pre­sents which she afterwards gave to M. Antony, but throughout the whole course of her life, she kept up her Royall greatness in the highest degree that was ever heard of. And now seeing the Power that shee had over the affections of this master of the world, She forgot nothing that might set off those great ad­vantages and Caesar himself being abundantly satis­fied with his fortune, and judging her worthy of that affection which he had for her, encreased his admira­tion of her rare perfections, and consequently his love to her; But not long after fortune interrupted the stream of their pleasures, and Caesar (for whom all great actions were reserved, and the Empire of the world designed) was not born to spend his time in a womans lap, but was necessitated to leave Egypt, and to march with his Army into Syria, where he had heard that Pharnaces King of Pontus, and son of Mi­thridates (who was heir to the hatred which his Father bore to the Roman name and greatness al­though not to his vertues) was come with his Army, after that he had ransacked a great part of Arme­nia. I shall not need to relate to you the farewell of those two lovers for I speak of their lives, but en pas­sant to another story to which this is only an Introdu­ction; if I have spoken somewhat too largely on the loves of Caesar and Cleopatra, it hath been out of a Design to justifie the memorie of that great Queen, whose reputation hath been much stained by many men, by reason of their ignorance of this Marriage; but I shall not stay long on that which hapned to [Page 132] her afterwards, with the deplorable M. Antony; for every one that knows any thing was well acquain­ted with their unfortunate loves and lamentable ends. Caesar left Alexandria, notwithstanding the tears and intreaties of Cleopatra, who was unwilling to lose his company, he comforted her with promises of a publick Declaration of his Marriage, and calling her to Rome, which he assured her that he would per­form assoon as he had established himself in the of­fice of Perpetuall Dictator, which hee hoped would not be long after his arrivall there. It was about this time that she began to perceive her self with child and therefore she acquainted Caesar therewith before his departure, that she might engage him the better to be mindfull of his promises, with the remembrance of the Pawn he had left behind him. Caesar depar­ted for Syria, and Cleopatra remained in Egypt where she governed her people with so much Mildness, Pru­dence, and Policie, that she gained the affections, e­steem, and admiration of every body: She was much troubled for the absence of Caesar, although the newes of his great victories and success did not a little con­solate her, for he was no sooner gone, but she heard how he had beaten Pharnaces in a set Battell▪ and had in a few hours time put an end to that warre, which many thought would have kept him employed some years; she understood afterwards how he had over­come Cato, Scip [...]o, and the King Juba in Sicilia, with admirable fortune and had slain fifty thousand of their men without the loss of fiftie of his own, and that after all his success he was gone to Rome, and was received there three times in triumph this newes gave a little divertisement to the languishing spirits [Page 133] of Cleopatra, especially when she pleased her self with the belief, that such a man as Caesar was, could ne­ver be capable of unfaithfulness; but by this time she was no longer able to conceal her great belly, and therefore declared openly to her subjects, her mar­riage, which untill that time was kept secret; the people instead of dislike, which shee feared, ex­pressed a great deale of joy upon hearing the news, and were big with expectation of the birth of a famous King, such a one as might bee expected from so great personages as Caesar and Cleopatra; the Queen was delivered in Alexandria, not long after Caesar came to Rome, of a son worthy of the Father and Mother, and all those hopes and expectations that every bodie conceived of him: there was never seen any thing more beautifull, the Astrologers who enquired into the time of his birth, found him to be attended with all the advan­tages that might be desired in the like occasion, and this Child was in a short time the admiration and delight of all that beheld him but because he could not shew those effects of his vertue in his infancy, which he did after that he came to full years, I shall for the present leave that discourse; he was called Caesarion by the generall consent of all, and though there was little difference between his and his Fa­thers name, yet every body thought there might be lesse between the quality and greatness of his acti­ons: the Queen was very carefull to see him well educated and therefore sent to get all sorts of fa­mous Masters in all Arts and Sciences (from all parts of the world) in which he ought to be instructed, as soon as he was capable; and although I was al­together [Page 134] unworthy of so great an honour, and that without doubt she might have have found amongst the Egyptians a more fit and able man for his Go­vernour, yet it was her pleasure to make choice of me (at the instance of my Father, who by reason of his age desired to be excused) for so great an imploy­ment: during this time the Queens thoughts were so much perplex'd for that she saw no good effect of the fair promises of great Cesar, that the joy to see her fair Son was not sufficient to cure her of her pensivenesse and deep melancholy; she heard a while after, how that he had wholy defeated the sons of Pompey, and had put an end to that War, and after all had estab­lished his soveraignty at Rome, and thereby given a Master to that proud City, the Mistris of so many Kings and Countries: It was at this time, that she most hoped that he would have been mindfull of his promise, and indeed Caesar by his many letters to her, did confirme her in that hope, and cloathed his delays with many specious pretexts and disgui­ses: the Queen remained satisfied with this carriage, untill she saw a whole year passed over without any preparation to a performance, at which time she lost all patience, and began to complain of his infidelity: yet before she would openly proclame her passion, she resolved to dispatch away to Rome, Apollodorus my Father, to Caesar, for to awaken him, and truly she inclined to send him before any body else, not only because he was most faithfull to her interest, but because 'twas in his presence that Caesar had espoused her, so that he could with greater freedome reproach him for the violation of his promise: my Fathers voyage was altogether ineffectuall, Caesar [Page 135] caressed him, curteously received and entertained him, gave him rich presents and fair language, but yet pressed the same reasons to him as he had usually done, and made use of in his letters to the Queen, which were, that his Empire ought to be more fixed, and setled, before he could accomplish his promise: but as yet in the condition as he then was, in the in­fancy of a Monarchie which was as it were trem­bling, he durst not attempt to doe any thing that might displease the Senate or People, who at that time were sufficiently vexed by reason of the new yoak that he had imposed on them: Cleopatra flat­tered her self with many hopes for a long time groun­ded on these specious excuses, but when she had in vain expected the performance of his promises, she gave her self the liberty openly to reproach him for breach of his engagement, which possibly might have concluded in some tragicall revenge had shee not soon after heard, that the Heavens had revenged her quarrell, by the murther of Caesar in full Se­nate, who was there massacred by four and twenty of his most confident friends and acquaintance; she neverthelesse heard this news with abundance of sor­row, which might have occasioned desperate effects, had not the last ingratitude of Caesar mitigated her passion: for she heard that he had not long before his death adopted the Octavius his Nephew, for his son, who at present bears the name of great Augu­stus Caesar, and possesseth his place and authority, and that he had made him his heir, without so much as mentioning his son Caesarion, or Cleopatra; th s last knowledge which the Queen received of the contempt of her ungratefull spouse, did not onely [Page 136] dry up her tears, but so far enraged her against him, that she seemed much to rejoyce in his death, whose losse she a little before so much deplored; yet the re­sentment which she had against the Father, was not extended to the son, but she endeavoured to educate him in the same way, as she would have done in case his Father had been living, and continued faithfull to her; and remembring that she had him by one of the most great and famous men that ever lived in the world, notwithstanding his perfidiousness to her. she was much delighted to see engraved on his counte­nance, the matks of so great a birth; she designed for him the crown of Egypt, and notwithstanding the many instances of the Egyptians, who perswaded her to marry, for that they saw the race of the Ptolomies to be extinct she satisfied them so well with her answers and good Government, that they were contented that she should remain a Widow; but alas how happy had the Queen been if she had remained firm in that re­solution? she had then avoided those famous misfor­tunes which have occasioned so much discourse the whole world over she had then prevented the pitty & tears of those her most cruell enemies, who lamen­ted her last miseries, together with the sad catastro­phe of her life: you know very well my Lord, how that within a very few years after the death of Ju­lius Caesar, M. Antony, that unfortunate Antony, I may well call him so (having divided the Empire of the world with the young Caesar, afterwards cal­led Augustus, and having with him revenged the death of their most noble Predecessor, by the over­throw of his murtherers, and by that lamentable Triumvirate which produced such hideous effects at [Page 137] Rome) going into Cicilie for to make War against the Parthes, summoned the Queen Cleopatra for to appear before him, now because she could by no means defend her self against so great a power, by the advice of her friends, she went to meet him in her famous Galley, the Poup whereof was of pure Gold, the sayls of Purple, and the oars of Silver, ac­companied with that proud equipage which gave occasion of discourse to all the world for some time after; you have heard sufficiently of the man­ner of their meeting, and how that Antony was no soonet surprised with the magnificence of the Queen, but within a short time after, he became a slave to her beauty. Antony was much inferior to Caesar, and therefore the Queen seemed much to condescend when she gave her self to him: But if any body might pretend to succeed Caesar, there was no man more deserving than he, for that his glory at that time, was not ecclipsed by Augustus; for this cause Cleopatra yeelded her self up to him, and to speak truly, the love which Antony bore her was ex­ceeding great, so that for her sake, he slighted the friendship of young Caesar and his Sister Octavia, who a while before he had married at Rome, and in Fine leaving both publick and private interest, mar­ried her in Alexandria. I am not ignorant how that the Romans, who are constant enemies of the me­mory of this Queen, have not onely disowned this match, as well as the former, and have not ceased to wound her in her reputation, after that by their cruelty she left the world: but I can bear witness of what I have seen, notwithstanding their inhumane carriage: for the marriage of M. Antony with the [Page 138] Queen Cleopatra was publikely Celebrated, although it was accompanied with many bad augures, which their misfortunes afterwards largely confirmed; all which I believe are so well known to you, that I need not to mention them; especially since I have so large a discourse yet to make. In the first year of their Marriage, the Queen was delivered of two Chil­dren Twins, the Son was named Alexander, and the Daughter Cleopatra, there was never seen any thing more beautifull than these children, and I be­lieve their beauties occasioned the ruine of their Fami­lie, by drawing on Antony the choler and fury of the Gods for offending them, by giving these children the names of Apollo and Diana at severall publick meetings, at which times he caused them to wear the same habits in which those Gods were usually Pain­ted▪ and the same honours to be given them, which were properly due to those Deities. I have not seen them since their eighth or ninth year, but I can assure you that at that time they both drew the eyes and admiration of all that knew them, and every one thought that the beauty of the young Cleopatra, would not onely equall that of the Queen her Mo­ther, but if it were possible, excell not onely hers, but every beauty living besides. Here Tiridate interrupted Eteockle, and told him, that those that had conceived so great hopes of the young Cleopatra, had not failed in their judgements, for, said he, I have seen her since at Rome, during my abode there with the Emperour, and I was of opinion as well as all the Roman people besides, that she was the most fair piece of Natures workmanship that could possibly be beheld; she con­tinues now in the Empresses Court, and is by her so [Page 139] much respected, as if she were her own daughter, her beautie hath occasioned so great effects, that a great part of the world talketh of it, and I could speak something of it my self, if I were willing to in­terrupt your narration. Ptolomie her younger brother was likewise at Rome in the same esteem, but as for her eldest brother Alexander, he hath been for some time missing, so that at present no man there can tell where he is, or what is become of him. I am so neer­ly touched my Lord, with this discourse of yours, re­plied Eteockle, and am so much interessed in the for­tunes of that Familie, that I cannot hear any one speak of them without a very great agitation of my spirits. I pray God to give them better fortune than their Progenitors, and me the happiness to see the re­licks of that noble Familie to flourish in prosperitie; but I shall proceed to tell you, that this Ptolomie which you saw at Rome, was born abour a year after, not much different from his brother, and had the same marks of an illustrious birth impressed upon his coun­tenance; there was never any thing seen so pompous and stately as the Court of Alexandria, at that time many Kings and Princes resorted thither for to doe homage; and divers others sent their children thither, that so they might have the honour to be educated with those young Princes and indeed there was no care or diligence wanting in their education, for al­though Caesarion was not begotten by M. Antony, yet the memory which he had of his Father made him to look on him with respect; he failed not to publish the Marriage of Julius Caesar with the Queen Cleopatra, over all those Countries which were subject to his Government, and also declared him to [Page 140] be the true and lawfull Heir of his Father, all which he did either for the love he bore to the Queen, or for the honour which he was willing to give to deceased Caesar; He gave to this young Prince the title of King of Kings and to his Mother that of Queen of Kings, and that she might not enjoy a bare title onely, he gave her the Kingdomes of Egypt, Cypres, Syria, and lower Syria; to young Alexander, he gave Armenia and Media, as also the Countries of Parthes, as soon as he had conquered it; he gave to young Cleopatra, Lybia and Cilicia, and to young Ptolomie, Syria and Phoenicia; having made this large Gift, he sent his De­cree to Rome for to be confirmed, although it hapned that the then Consuls, Socius and Domitius, the same which you made mention of in your discourse, did soon suppress it: I doubt not but you are well ac­quainted with the warres which he carried on with great success against severall Nations and Princes, whilst they lived together, as also with the manner of his leading captive to Alexandria, the King Arta­basus with his Children▪ and how he caused his head to be shortly after chopped off by the commande­ment of Cleopatra, which story I have heard you re­cite; you have also heard of his severall voyages to Rome, where he alwayes opposed the Senate when as they advised him to cashiere Cleopatra, and how that not long after he enraged Augustus against him, by casting off his Sister Octavia, who, before he had married. To conclude, open War was declared be­tween these two Masters of the Universe, there was never greater forces that opposed each other, and eve­ry body was much interessed in the event of that war which would undoubtedly give one onely Master to [Page 141] the whole Empire; you have heard I believe not one­ly the beginning but the prosecution of this famous Warre, and how that in severall rancounters fortune seemed to favour both the one and the other party, untill the battell of Actium, where after a hot and doubtfull dispute, Augustus remained Conquerour. The miserable Antony was betrayed as well by for­tune as his love, for though the Queen had manife­sted an extraordinary courage upon all occasions, yet the terrour of this sore conflict where she assisted in person, made her to fly, being accompanied with sixty sayle of Ships; Amorous Antony stayed not long behind her, but chose rather to lose both the battell and Empire than her dear company. You know what followed how that this defeat so much encouraged their enemies, and d sheartened their friends▪ that they were forsaken by all, and in a very short time after besieged by Augustus in Alexandria; you have also heard of the lamentable effects which a mistake one­ly occasioned amongst them as that when Cleopatra caused a report to be spread abroad of her death, that so she might cure M. Antony of an unjust suspicion which he had of her, that despairing Prince put an end to his own dayes you have in like manner heard how that Augustus Caesar, when he had reduced A­lexandria to his obedience, came to visit and comfort the Queen, by putting her in hopes of civill usage, although that couragious Princess scorned his fa­vours, and chose rather to follow the same fate with her dear Antony, by suffering her self to be stung to death by an Aspike, than to expose her self to the dan­ger and shame of a Roman triumph; after which, assoon as Augustus Caesar had quieted Egypt, and [Page 142] left Cornelius Gallus Governour at Alexandria, he returned to Rome, carrying with him the young Prin­ces Alexander and Ptolomie, and the young Princess Cleopatra, the children of Antony and Cleopatra. Thus you have in few words the sad destiny of this unfortunate Prince and Queen, but what became of the young Prince Caesarion, I am confident you have not heard, but have believed with many others at Rome, that Augustus caused him to be killed: It is true said Tiridate, that I alwayes thought as you have said, having oftentimes heard that Caesar when he took Alexandria, advised with his friends what was meet to be done with Caesarion, and was told by a certain Philosopher, one Arrius (a fellow in great credit with him) that many Caesars was not good nor safe, alluding to a certain verse in Homer; where­upon Augustus fearing lest hee might one day dispute with him about his Fathers succession and Empire, thought it convenient to dispatch him out of the world which as they report was done accordingly. So the report hath been, replied to Eteockle, and we have perchance been very happy that it hath been so much credited, for otherwise he might have been pur­sued and persecuted even in those places where he hath found shelter, but I shall acquaint you with the truth of the businesse, notwithstanding any danger that may happen, for I know very well, that I can doe my Prince no mischief in discovering his condition to a Prince as vertuous as himself, and I must tell you, that I have spent so much time in the Story of his Mother, the better to make way for his own.

The History of Caesarion and the Queen Candace.

AFter the memorable defeat at Actium, and the shamefull desertion of part of the remaining troops, the unfortunate Antony and Cleopatra re­treated to Alexandria, (every hour expecting their Conquerour) with those forces which they had left them, where they resolved to defend themselves to the last man; their courage had not forsaken them with their fortune, but they might have prolonged their destinies, and once more disputed for the Em­pire of the world, if they had not been prevented by that cruell errour which was the occasion of each others ruine: the Queen perceiving nothing but de­struction attending on her, began to consider the de­plorable estate of her Familie, which from the high­est pitch of fortune she saw was like to be involved in the greatest miseries: But Good Gods, what expres­sions did shee utter upon those sorrowfull considera­tions, and what marks did she discover of her law­full grief? Shee feared, and not without good cause, that the fury of the Conquerour would extend it self to the ruine of his enemies, and doubted not but hee would extirpate all those seeds which might disturb the tranquillitie of his domination, and being possessed with this fear, shee oftentimes solicited M. Antony to send their children away to some place of safety, either to the King of Ethiopia, who was a mighty and powerfull Prince, as well as their friend and ally, or else to King Herod who was [Page 144] a great friend and favourer of Antony, or to any o­ther friend of theirs, whom the alteration of their fortune had not caused them to lose; but Antony who doated so much on his children, could not en­dure to hear of their removall, or trust them with any strange Prince: He told the Queen, that possibly the Gods might give them assistance, and miracu­lously reduce their affairs to a better condition, as they had then ruined them contrary to the opinion and expectation of every body, and in case such a change should happen, how sorrowfull should they be, to have exposed their children to such a flight, the event of which was so exeeeding doubtfull; and although the Heavens have resolved our own de­struction said he, yet we may expect a better destiny for our children, from our enemies clemency, than from the loyaltie of barbarous Princes, who un­doubtedly with the change of our fortunes will change their affections. Cleopatra perceiving him firm in this resolution, and that shee could by no means take from him the disposition of his children, began to think how to preserve him, in whom he had no power, and imagining upon good grounds, that al­though Augustus Caesar should extend his mercy so far, as to give life to the children of M. Antony, yet he might not doe the like for the son of Julius Caesar, who claiming by a lawfull marriage, would have a right to contend with him for the succession to that Empire, which the other claimed and possessed onely by adoption; she thought it was not so safe to trust to his clemency, as to provide for her son his safety other wayes, and she having full power over him, Antony suffered her to dispose of him as she should [Page 145] think best: Caesarion at this time was about fifteen years old, but the most accomplished Prince in the world of his age; for besides his incomparable beau­tie, one might perceive such spritefulness in his eyes, and such an ayr in his countenance, as was proper only to the son of Julius Caesar and Cleopatra; his stature was extraordinary for his age, and his strength wonderfull, his activeness and address in all sort of excercises drew the admiration of all that beheld him; his lively disposition was accompanied with much charming sweetness, and his inclinations were so carried on to great things, that during the whole course of his tender youth, I never perceived a thought to come from him, that was not more than ordi­nary; he had a very great emulation for his Fathers glory, which occasioned the same effects on him as it had on the young Alexander but in the relation of his life which was made to him as a modell for him to follow, he did as much value his clemency, liberality, and his moderation, as his valour and good conduct, and upon the whole he gave me very much comfort by discovering his great love of vertue: many times during his tender age, he would have armed him­self, and have rushed into the dangers of the War▪ had he not been restrained by an absolute authority. Such a one was the young Caesarion, and a thousand times above my expression, when the Queen his Mo­ther, preferring his safety before the pleasure she took in seeing him, resolved to lose the sight of him for ever; being confirmed in this resolution, she sent unto me to conduct him into her Chamber; she could not look on him with this design never to see him again, without shedding many a tear, which action being [Page 146] seconded by the young Prince and my self, wee all remained silent for some time, without any power of speaking; but at the last striving against her grief, and wiping her eyes, she endeavoured to compose her countenance as well as she could. My son said she to the young Prince, as young as you are, you have understanding sufficient to reflect on your pre­sent and past condition: you are Son to a Father that was the greatest of men, and to a Mother that might say without boasting that she hath held some rank amongst women, and that may leave such a fame behind her as is not ordinary for persons of her sex. I see nothing in you that doth belie your birth, but doe hope so well of you, that I believe you will not shame the spirit of great Caesar (who is now placed amongst the Gods) that he hath begotten you whilst he lived in the world. Although fortune doth frown on you in the budding of your age, and though shee may deprive you not only of your Parents, but other advantages, learn betimes to slight her, and by your vertue force her one day to smile propitiously on you. You will wear a Sword as well as your Father, which one time or other may gain you those crowns which you have lost; and if it be the pleasure of the Gods (as in all probability it is) that we perish in this War, and that our days shall terminate in the losse of our Empire, yet you will be left behind, for to re­cover one day, by the glory of your actions, that which we shall lose by the last of ours, for to pre­serve amongst men the memory of Caesar and Cleo­patra, and it may be for to revenge upon our cruell destroyer, the destinie of Anthony and Cleopatra. These considerations my son, doe make me provide [Page 147] for your safetie, whilst I neglect my own, and the love which I bear you makes me to offer violence to my most tender inclinations. Well young Caesar, you must be gone, you must go beyond the power of the Romans, for to seek a better destiny than you can expect at the feet of our implacable Conqueror; neither is it fit or honorable that the lawfull Son of great Cae­sar, should beg his life from his adoptive Son, which if it should be obtained, cannot be accepted without shame neither can it at all be expected from him, who inherits onely the name and power, but not the clemency or other vertues of Caesar. It will be much easier for me to endure your absence, than to see you supplicating at the feet of our enemy, or led in tri­umph to that City which your Father first brought under his domination: the Queen stayed some time after these words, for to wipe off those tears which her greatest constancy and resolution could not hin­der her from shedding, and then looking from the Prince on me, Eteockle said she, its now the time that I must recommend to your care that which I esteem most precious and dear in this world; I have hitherto committed him to your care for his educa­tion, but its for the preservation of his life that I now resign him to you: make it appear in this last and greatest experiment that I shall make of your fidelity, that you are the worthy son of Apolodorus, who whilst he lived, acquired the reputation of the most loyall and faithfull servant that ever was known or heard of; take into your custodie and tui­tion the Prince my Son and your Pupill, conduct him from Alexandria, and this unfortunate Egypt, with all the diligence and haste you can possibly use into [Page 148] Ethiopia, the King of that Country is not onely Po­tent, but our friend and allye, and the onely man, a­mongst all our neighbours, who hath no cause to be affraid of the Roman Power, and who in case hee should be molested by them, is in a capacity to de­fend himself against all their strength; desire of him from me a protection and sanctuary for this poor Prince, whom I shall commit to his trust; you may tell him, that he is not onely obliged thereunto by reason of our alliance, and by the laws of generosity, which doe engage him to protect all oppressed per­sons. but by the common interest of Kings and Prin­ces, to oppose themselves against the violence and usurpation of the Romans, who like publike haters of mankind, would exercise their tyranny over all Kings and Princes whatsoever. I make no question but he will receive you very kindly, and will not stick to afford my Son that protection which I doe desire from him: you shall be gon this very night, for I desire that your voyage may be kept very se­cret, lest it should come to the ears of our ene­mies, who no douht will if it lye in their power, in­tercept you on your way; for company you shall have Rodon, Neander, and some other Officers, but few in number, lest a great train should discover you, and by that means endanger the preservation of my Son. I shall furnish you with money and Jewells sufficient to defray your expences, when you are gone. If we shall conclude a Peace with Octavius, or if the Gods shall please to alter the scene of our affairs, I shall soon recall you from this banishment, which I cannot support but with abundance of grief. The Queen had no sooner ended this discourse, but the young [Page 149] Prince cast himself at her feet, and told her, that he had rather dye a thousand deaths, than forsake her, and that he had courage enough to stay with her, and accompany her and M. Antony in their greatest misfortunes: the Queen gathering from these expres­sions, and his action, more marks of his courage, re­doubled her affection for him, and then looking from him whom she could not then behold without much displeasure, O great Caesar, said she, if thou art now among the Gods, protect this thy son whom thou hast left me, and who I well perceive is no way un­worthy of thee; and then turning towards her son, she at the first endeavoured to take off his resolution with mildness, but seeing she could not that way pre­vail with him, she at the last was forced to make use of her absolute authoritie over him, and to command his obedience, charging me, that I should use force, in case he refused to comply with her desires. The young Caesarion was in fine over-ruled, and indeed he so much respected his Mother, that he durst not disobey her. I shall not enlarge my self any longer on the regret that the Queen had to leave her Son, or the Prince his Mother, but tell you that the remaining part of that day onely was allotted for the prepara­tions for our journey: the Queen caused Iras and Chariniona (two faithfull servants who awhile after dyed with her) to bring out a Box full of Gold, and other Gemmes of great valew, which she gave to me, and assoon as it was dark, she took her last farewell with an Ocean of tears, holding the Prince by the hand, and giving him her last kiss; Goe, said she, young Prince, whither thy destinie doth call thee, and let the Gods take thee into their protection, but be [Page 150] mindfull of the greatness of thy Ancestors, and let not the lowest ebbe of fortune make thee to commit any action unworthy thy birth; having so said, she caused us presently to mount on horse-back, in her presence, for to quit the sad and lamentable Alexan­dria. This beginning of the adventures of Caesarion was not much unlike yours, my Lord, and he was forced to fly out of the Country about the same age that you left the Country of the Parthes. Hee went out of Alexandria, accompanied onely with twelve Horse, and he that had been but a while before Pro­clamed King of Kings, was seen to abandon his na­tive Country, for to seek shelter amongst strangers, in this slender equipage. This sudden & strange revolution of fortune may serve for an example to all those who confide over-much in her favours, and suffer them­selves to be blinded with deceitfull prosperities. The pomp and pride of Antony was so great, that I think it drew on him the choler of the Gods, for they who had seen a while before so many Kings prostrate at their feet, taking from some their Crowns, and from others their heads, as the unfortunate Antigo­nus King of the Jewes, and the unhappy Artabasus King of Armenia, saw themselves reduced to their last Town, where they every hour expected their desti­nie, and where within a few dayes after they were constrained to be their own executioners, which Cleo­patra for an increase of her miseries could not obtain but by Artifice and subtiltie. We went out of Alex­andria at the same time that Octavius Caesar was en­camped on the other side of the Town, within sight of the walls, and had we stayed but a very little lon­ger, we had not so easily escaped thence. The young [Page 151] Prince was necessitated to endure the hardship of that tedious journey on horse-back, but he had pretty well learned that lesson by reason of his morning exercises in the manage, and the great delight which he took in hunting, all which was of great advantage to us in our design; for certainly our toyl that night other­wise had been enough to discourage any man of a more nice or tender constitution. Towards the morn­ing we made some stay at a Village two or three leagues from Alexandria, where wee reposed the Prince, and fed our horses, about three hours after we mounted on horseback, for to continue on our journey, but we had not gone farre, before I percei­ved that the Princes horse with divers others of our company, went very lame, but not dreaming of any treacherie, I at the first imputed the lameness to the extraordinary hast we made on them the night before; we thought to have made use of those that were sound, but being unwilling to lose or lessen the num­ber of our attendants, we went on slowly that whole day, untill we came to a certain Village not farre distant from the other where we rested the morning, and by that time we got thither, our horses were scarce able to stand on their leggs, so that we were enforced to stay there that whole night. We sent im­mediatly for Smiths, and having caused them to view our horses, they suddenly returned us answer, that they had been pricked in shooing, and as soon as the Nailes that had wounded them were drawn forth, they were much eased, yet not so well, but that they would re­quire the rest of that night to fit them for the next dayes journy. I began then to suspect that we were so served on purpose, that our voyage might be retar­ded, [Page 152] but I knew not whom to mistrust, our small company was made of such persons from whom we might have expected nothing but fidelitie. Rodon and Neander were the chief next to my self, Rodon had been given to the Prince for a sub governour even since his infancy, and had no less share than my self in his education; he had a son who was about the age of the Prince, and had been alwayes bred up with him, and was then accompanying him in the voyage. Neander was a man of approved faithfulness, and all the rest were ancient officers of the Queens house, and particularly chosen for this service, and yet a­mongst this small number we found those who were tainted with the blackest treason and fowlest wicked­ness as was possible for any man to be guilty of. After that I had spent the greatest part of the night much distracted in my thoughts, I rose up from my bed on which I lay, without putting off my clothes, and opened the casement of the Window, for to see whether it was day, this window looked out into a little Garden, where I heard some people talking to­gether, and at the first I heard the voice of Rodon, which was very familiar to mee▪ and soon after I un­derstood that Acetes, a person in whom he much confided, was the other, to whom he spoke; they imagining that the time and place gave them free­dome enough▪ without danger of discovery, talked freely of their designes, but the heavens who then watched for my Prince his preservation, sent me thi­ther to over-hear them, that so I might take that mi­raculous occasion for to protect him. Rodon and A­cetes were newly come into the Garden as I opened the window, so that I believe I heard all their com­munication. [Page 153] Thy diligence, said Rodon, is exceeding great, but is it possible that thou couldst doe so much in so short a time, for thou wentst from Alexandria but at the same time when we came thence. I pray be satisfied, replyed Acetes, all things are acted according to your hearts desire, for I have seen Caesar himself, who well remembred your name, and the solicitations which he had made to you, for that which you now offred him; he kept me a whole hour, whilst he advised with his counsell, and afterwards called me in, and commanded me to repair to you speedily, and acquaint you, that he will not onely give you the Jewels which the Queen delivered to Eteockle, but that you may likewise expect great mat­ters from him, and you shall not fail to hear from him this very day, at the same place which you men­tioned in your Letter. I heard the command given to one of his Captains to be in a readiness, and I be­lieve they will overtake us, before we shall get to the Forrest of Agria, by which we are to pass; they will have time enough to doe it, replied the faithless Ro­don, for wee have rode so little way yesterday, by means of the care I took my self to prick the hor­ses, whilst Eteockle and the rest slept, that the Romans if they make any haste, may soon bee with us: but talke no more of this busi­nesse, it is so carefully managed, that wee may not doubt of a good issue: having so said, they went forth of the Garden, whether it was out of fear to be over­heard or surprised by the comming of the day, which began then to appear. I remained a while at the window, in such a confusion as is impossible for me to expresse. Good Gods how was I then perplexed [Page 154] in my thoughts; the discovery of this treason filled me with grief, anger and astonishment, I could scarce give credit to my own ears, and indeed, I was so sur­prised, that I was not capable of reason or judge­ment: in the first place I detested the treason of Ro­don, and then on my knees thanked the Gods for the miraculous discovery of his design, and to crave the continuance of their assistance of my intention to Act for the safety of the young Prince; yet I must confesse I knew not well on a sudden what to doe, and of all sides I saw so many difficulties, that I had little hopes of good success. It was quite light before I resolved on any thing besides the death of Rodon, and so revenge the Prince, although I knew not otherwise how to save him: yet having no time to trifle away, I retired into my Chamber, and gave present orders for sadling our horses. I awakened the Prince, and hastned to make him ready; whilst that he was putting on his cloaths I lead aside Neander (who I perceived by the discourse was none of the treacherous crew) and acquainted him with our con­dition, which put him into the same confusion with my self; whilst we were talking, Rodon appeared in our sight, and I could scarse hold from falling on him to strangle him, yet I contained my self as well as I could, and having learned Neander his lesson, I caused the Prince to mount on horse-back, without acquainting him with our discovery, lest the know­ledge thereof should haue troubled him so much, that we might have failed of an occasion to act for his preservation. We went out of the Town the same way which we intended, lest wee should have given jealousie to Rodon that his perfidiousness was disco­vered, [Page 155] and we were not gone a quarter of a mile, when as the Gods inspired me with a thought, which I resolved to put in execution without delay. I might have had some repugnancy aginst the danger that I should thereby bring on an innocent person, but the safety of my Prince was of greater moment than all other considerations, and therefore I soon overcame all obstacles that could oppose themselves to my in­tention; for this purpose I beckned to Neander, that he should ride before with the Prince and other com­pany, whilst I came softly after with Rodon, whom I kept busie in discourse, and being a little behind our company, I made as if somewhat had been broken about my saddle, and presently unlighted for to mend it, telling Rodon, that we should soon overtake the company by gallopping after them, and besides, I ha­ving some authoritie over him, and in that condition in which his guiltie conscience accused him, he had not the power to contradict me, and it may be he was well pleased with the delay, thinking that it might have conduced to the hastening of his design. Assoon as our compay were gone out of sight I mounted on horseback, and rode up suddenly towards Rodon with such a countenance as might well discover my in­tentions; Traytor, said I, thou must dy, and if it be so that thy Prince do perish by means of thy infidelitie, yet thou shalt not live to have the satisfaction to see it, or get any advantage by it. I had no sooner ended these words, but my sword was drawn, when as the faithless Rodon more smitten in conscience, than with the fear of my sword, receiving my menace with a pale countenance, had scarce the power to put him­self into a posture of resistance; he at the last drew [Page 156] out his sword though tremblingly, but defended him­self so poorly, that with a great deal of ease I ran mine quite through his body, which made him sud­denly fall down upon the sands and vomit up his spirit with his blood. After this execution I hast­ned up after the Prince, as fast as I was able, but when I came to the top of a hill, I looked back and espied a squadron of the Roman Cavalrie, which I imagined to be the same that Rodon had expected; this sight made me to spur on untill I overtook my company. I acquainted Neander in his ear that Ro­don was dead, but withall that the enemies were at hand, and therefore advised him to take with him the Prince, and two of our men, and make all the hast they could into the Forrest of Agria, and get into the most thick part of it, and there expect to hear from me towards the Evening; I doe not doubt but I shall so amuse our enemies, that they shall have no mind to follow after you, if the heavens will be pleased to favour my intentions; if you doe not see me towards the evening, goe on with your journey in the night, and let the Gods take you into their pro­tection. I spake to him onely these few words, with­out giving him so much time as to make any reply. I caused the Prince to hasten away with him, and the two other servants, one of which being very faithfull, carried the Jewels and Treasure which the Queen delivered unto me; Caesarion was well enough content to be ruled by me, and made no difficulty to follow Neander, as I had advised him. I saw them hasten from me with extraordinary swiftness, yet not with­out shedding some tears, for the incertainty I had to see him again, and in the mean time, turning to those [Page 157] that were left with me, my friends, said I, we are be­trayed, our enemies are very neer us, Rodon is stayed behind to discover them if he can, see there is the Traytor, said I, pointing to Acetes, there is the faith­less wretch that hath sold us; having so said, I offered to draw my sword for to use him as I had done Ro­don, but was prevented by two of my company, who presently dispatched him out of the world, just as he was endeavouring to save himself by flight: I had kept the son of Rodon all this while with us, although he would willingly have followed the Prince; He was about the same age and stature with the Prince, as I have told you; this young man was much terrified at the sight of Acetes his death; I came to him, and ta­king him by the arm, shewed him the Romans who were very neer us; We are all dead men, said I, if wee doe not delude the Romans by telling them that you are the Prince Caesarion, this subtilty may save your life, for if they take you for the son of Caesar, they will be satisfied in carrying you Prisoner to their Em­perour, therefore as you tender our lives and your own, favour this feigned pretension; This young youth who was much terrified with the thoughts of death, easily disposed himself to follow the fatall counsell which I had given him, but I had scarse done speak­ing, when as the Romans came so neer us, that they divided their companie, that so they might by en­compassing us prevent our flight: I was by this time sensible of the danger I was in, and indeed I had foreseen it, but the Gods are my witness, that I could have hazarded my life without any regret for the safe­ty of my Prince, and therefore I had no other thought, than how I might protect him; at a sign [Page 158] which I gave, we all dismounted, and on our knees environed the son of Rodon, who onely remained in his saddle, the Romans who were comming furiously towards us, seeing us in this suppliant posture, were commanded to forbear discharging at us, by their principall Officer, but assoon as I could be heard a­mongst them, I cried out, Whosoever you are, if wee have deserved your anger revenge your selves on us, but save I pray you the son of great Caesar, sacrifice us to your choler if we have offended you, but spare us we beseech you the life of our Prince. This submis­sive speech and posture, made the Romans forbear to strike us, but it proved fatall to the young son of Ro­don, for the Captain of the Romans riding up to him, said, we will spare your lives, but we must take it from the son of Caesar, and its him onely that we seek; assoon as he had so said, he thrust our young Gentle­man with his sword through his body, just as he was opening his mouth, it may be to tell him that he was not the young Caesar. I cannot think on the de­stinie of the young man without some remorce for my carriage towards him, but, my Lord, 'twas impossible for me to save our Prince by any other means, and if any were fit to suffer upon that occasion, I thought it could not more justly befall any, than the son of that traytor, who had occasioned all the mischief; and be­sides I thought really that the Romans would have satisfied themselves with carrying of him to their Em­perour, and not have treated him in that barbarous and cruell way. By this time I cast my self on his dy­ing body, and seemed to be as much afflicted, as if it had been the Prince himself; the chief Commander of the Romans, was as it hapned a man of qualitie, [Page 159] and was much troubled at my grief, and told me that he had not executed his commands without regret; many of the troop desired to have the head of the young man cut of, for to present it to the Emperour, but this commander opposed that advice, and told them that it was sufficient that they could assure the Emperour of his death, without using such inhuma­nity to the son of Julius Caesar: neverthelesse upon their sollicitation he asked me for the Jewels that Cleopatra had given me, but I returned him answer that one of our company named Rodon (who I thought had betrayed us, and had absented himself that day) had them in his possession, whereupon the Souldiers began to threaten and search us, but finding not much about us, their Captain remembred that Rodon was the man that had betrayed us, and that the Emperour had designed those jewels of a recompence for his treachery, and therefore easily believed, that he had gotten them into his possession; whereupon he commanded them to trouble us no further, but to restore us our hor­ses, and permit us to goe whether we pleased. The Souldiers were obedient, although it went much a­gainst their stomacks, and left us by the unfortunate son of Rodon, about whose body we kept a great stir, and counterfeited a desperate grief. When our ene­mies were gone out of our sight, we buried the body of the innocent youth, not without much reall sad­ness, and then made haste to find out him that was in truth our Prince. By this you may perceive all that passed, and gave ground for the false report of Caesarions death, and therefore those who affirms that Octavius put him to death are mistaken, for I [Page 160] can assure you that he never saw him. About two hours after our enemies had left us, we arrived at the forrest of Agria, where we were no sooner come but we met with a man whom Neander had placed to give intelligence to the Prince of our comming, and indeed had they not thought on this subtilty, we might have sought long enough ere we could have found the Prince in that great and thick Forrest. Good Gods how much was I rejoyced when I saw again my dear Prince, what words did I speak, and how many tears did I shed, when I came to imbrace him, whose safety a few hours before I so justly sus­pected: what satisfaction think you I received after his affectionate embracings, when Neander acquain­ted me how much he was troubled for my absence, and how that as soon as he understood the true ground of it from Neander (whom he pressed so hard that he durst not conceal it from him) he would have returned back after us to hinder us from endange­ring our lives for the safetie of his; this noble at­tempt, which Neander by force prevented, confir­med me in the great opinion which I had of his mag­nanimous spirit, so that after I had expressed my resentments of his goodnesse, whilst he continued thanking us with tears in his eyes, for the good office we had done him, very much deploring the disaster of Rodons son, I caused him to mount on horse back, and quit the Forrest for to continue on our voyage. I hope you will excuse me my Lord, if I forget some particular passages of small importance, whilst I hasten to that which yet remains behind, and is of greatest consequence. Within few days after we were gone behind the Egyptian Territories, and then pas­sing [Page 161] over the deserts of Nubia, we came in safety into Ethiopia, never staying untill we arrived at Meroe, the capitall City of that Country, and the place where that mighty King did usually reside. Our young Prince endured the hardship of a long tedious and fatigious journy, with an admirable courage and resolution, and was one of the first that would sollicite me to be going when we made any stay to repose our selves in those Towns we passed by. We called him by a strange name, lest the news of his escape should have bin carried to his enemies, who might for ought we knew have found more tray­tors in Ethiopia than in Egypt: we call him by the name of Cleomidon, with an intention to have him passe for no other amongst the Ethiopians, excep­ting some others who of necessitie were to be ac­quainted with the truth. Why should I detain you any longer with unnecessary and impertinent dis­courses, we arrived at last at Meroe, whether we had sent Neander a few daies before to acquaint the King of our comming, and to excuse the pressing ne­cessity of our flight and entring into his territories without his speciall licence. The King of Ethiopia, who in my opinion was one of the best and most just in the world, hated the Tyranny of the Ro­mans, had in great veneration the name of Queen Cleopatra, expressed much joy to understand the confidence that so great a Queen had of his worth, and therupon disposed himself to entertain the Prince her Son, with the same care and tenderness as if he had been his own; hee had received him in great state and magnificence, had not Neander dis­swaded him from it, for the causes before expressed, [Page 162] whereupon he resolved to receive us in his Cabinet, where we had speciall audience in the company of those personages onely in whom the King thought he might best confide: the magnificence of his Palace, and his glorious attendance, might possibly have astonished any other but those who came from the Court of Cleopatra, where was more pomp and sumptuousness to be seen, than in any other place of the world, and yet I may tell you, that we saw so much, that at the first we were much surprised, for I believe that you know well that Gold is very plen­tifull in that Country, so that men of low ranck doe oftentimes imploy it to servile uses, but I shall spend no more time on this subject, but onely tell you, that as the Majesty of this great King drew our respect to him, so the mind and behaviour of our young Prince, wrought such an effect on his spirit, that hee considered him as no less than the son of Julius Caesar and Cleopatra; he accosted him with such an ayr as did not bely his birth, and saluted him with such stately modesty, that he filled the King rather with admiration and respect, than pitty or compassion for him. I gave him some short in­structions how to demean himself, which he very gracefully made use of for after that he had saluted the King according to his place, Great Prince said he, my Parents, whom fortune hath forsaken, have gi­ven me unto you, and they were of opinion, that you would not deny me your protection, Its that which I with them doe now ask from you, being resolved to ask the like favour from none besides; he sayd no more, but what he spake was with a Royall acti­on, at which time I presented to the King, the letter [Page 163] of the Queen Cleopatra, whose seal he well knew, and breaking it open, he read in it these words.

The Queen Cleopatra to the Great Hydas­pus King of Ethiopia.

THe assurance which I have of your vertues, doe make me hope that your affections to us will not be changed with our Fortunes; and that you having been our Friend and ally during our pros­peritie, our adversity will not cause you to forget ei­ther the one or the other: upon this confidence I give you my Son, and the Son of great Caesar, whom our Roman enemies have chased from his native Coun­try, and reduced him to such a condition, that he is enforced to crave a protection, which I doe not desire he should have from any one but your self. If it be the pleasure of the Gods to free us from the yoak and oppression of the Romans, I shall dearly preserve the memory of this obligation; but if for the expiation of our offences, they have decreed our destruction, I shall dye at least with this comfort and consolation, that I have not entrusted any body with that which is most dear to me in this world, but him who above all other Princes is most worthy of the confidence and friendship of Cleopatra.

The King Hydaspus having read the Letter, and heard the discourse of the Prince, looked on him with tears on his cheeks, which the consideration of Cleo­patra her misfortune drew from his eyes, and em­bracing [Page 164] him with much tenderness, I doe see you and receive you with joy, said he, O Son of great Caesar and Cleopatra, and the Memory of your Father and Mother is so dear to me, that you may not onely ex­pect from me those offices which you might have had from them, but be assured that I will protect you to my last man against all enemies whatsoever. In this sort was my Prince received by the King of Ethiopia, who at the same time appointed him an Apart­ment in his own Palace, and ordered him his atten­dance, by which we perceived that he intended to en­tertain him as his own Son: the Kings com­mands were so punctually obeyed, that in a very short time we saw our selves in as good a condition at Meroe, as we were awhile before at Alexandria; The Prince had a great number of Officers, and a gal­lant equipage, and for all things so well accommoda­ted as if he were the Son of a great Prince in his own house; his true name was onely known to the King, and those of his secret counsell, but amongst all other company he passed by the name of Cleomidon, a Prince that was onely of kin to Cleopatra, and an ally to the King of Ethiopia. At this place Tiridate interrupted Eteockle, Although I have been ignorant, said he, of the destinie of Caesarion, yet sure I am, that I have heard of Cleomidon, and although I have lived farre from him, yet not onely his name, but his famous actions have been reported to me; Its true replied Eteockle, that my Prince hath under that name done many famous exploits, and I doubt not but the reputation of them hath been carried as farre as to you, but I shall acquaint you with the whole matter in due time. You know that the people of E­thiopia [Page 165] are generally black, but their Kings having been obliged to marry into their neighbouring Princes families, have for the most part lost that black tin­cture which continues on all others of the same Coun­try; the late King was born of a fair woman, and was himself but very little swarthy, and the Queen his Spouse who had been a very beautifull Princesse, and dyed about a year before wee came into the Country, had born him one onely Daughter, who was not onely fair, but for her beauty was the wonder not onely of that Country, but of the greatest part of the world; It was the fair Princesse Candace, the same which you have saved from drowning, and is now at this present lodged in your house.

It is for to come to the narrative of her life with that of my Prince, that I have in my opinion necessarily troubled you with this Prologomena or Introduction, and its on this subject that I am now to enlarge my self, that so you may know distinctly and at large all that which hath hapned to these great personages. The Princess Condace was about ten or eleven years old when we arived first in Ethiopia, and we had not lived there above a year ere that my Prince gave up himself as one conquered with her beauty, and lost for her a precious liberty, which had been hard for him to defend against the admirable perfections of that Princesse; this passion wherewith his mind was wholly taken up, was in one respect very necessary, for that it banished a great grief which a while before he conceived upon hearing the newes of the deplo­rable end of Cleopatra, and the lamentable fall of their House and Family▪ my Prince was so sensible of it, that all our consolations had been scarce enough [Page 166] to have kept him out of his grave, had not the powers of Candace operated more efficaciously on him than our perswasions, I may truly say that it was a matter of great difficulty for a Prince that was born of Ju­lius Caesar and Cleopatra, and a Prince that was then entring into an Age that made him capable of the sweet impressions of love, to resist so powerfull a force; and although Caesarion in the beginning endea­voured to preserve his freedome, yet those attempts were of no other use than to discover to him his weakness and so to make him to yield up himself with a greater submission to the power of a Master which treated him by so much the more rigidly by how much he endeavoured to resist his strength For my own part, I could nor disapprove the beginning of this Passion: but on the contrary, as soon as I was ac­quainted with it, I rather encouraged the Prince to proceed, than by contrary Arguments to disswade him from it: I must confess I had the honour to be re­spected by him for he looked on me not onely as one who had been his Governour from his infancie, but as one who had saved his life, with the great hazard of my own: he opened his whole heart to me as soon as he was smitten by that powerfull God, and upon the whole desired my counsell and assistance; and in­deed he found me willing and ready to give him all that he could desire from me. Father, said he, at the first prickings of his love, Me thinks I am as it were sweetly sick, and yet my torments are sufficiently cru­ell I seem to feel within me that same fire which I have so often heard my Mother and you discourse of and I am afraid that it will make as great an im­pression on me, as it did on the unfortunate M. An­tony. [Page 167] O Gods, said he, how beautifull, and how lovely is the Princess Candace? and how difficult is it for one to see her, and not be in love with her? Hee accompanied these words with many sighes, which I neither would nor could condemn; and in this sort he continued day after day, untill he was as it were all in a Fire, and wholly given up to his Passion. I will not trouble you with the relation of all the discourse I had with him severall times on that subject, the length of it would be too tedious, neither will I spend time in relating all the passages that hapned during the infancie of the Prince and Princess, for that I in­tend to hasten to that which passed during their riper age, and yet some things I cannot conceal, for that I conceive them worthy your hearing. The fair Prin­cess of Ethiopia was born with all the advantages of Heaven and Nature; the beauty of her body, which I believe you have well observed, is not to be compa­red to that of her mind. In her very infancie she had such an extraordinary liveliness, accompanied with such a wonderfull solidity, and a judgement so farre above her sex, and a greatness of courage worthy to be taken notice of by the most noble and generous persons. Shee hath given so many testimonies of what I have said, that before I have ended my Discourse, you will be of the same opinion; but before I come to the recitall of them, I must spend some time on those accidents which preceded them. The divine qualities of this Princess occasioned my Prince not onely to love her, but respect her, so that he continued his sighs a long time before he durst discover his Passi­on; and although the greatness of his Birth, and the merit of his Person, might justly have emboldened [Page 168] him to attempt any thing; and although the tender age of the Princess, who was about four or five years younger than himself, might have in part dispersed his fears, yet he looked on her with so respectfull an eye, that he durst not make use of any of these advantages; he saw her every day with greater freedom than any other Prince in the Court of Ethiopia, and the King who entertained him farre different from strangers, gave him a more free and familiar access to the Prin­cess his Daughter: Shee alwayes desired his company when she was at play, and although my Prince had a soliditie farre exceeding his age, yet the complacencie for the Princess made her sports to seem very impor­tant and serious; he would oftentimes wait upon her when she was walking abroad, but carried himself so respectfull towards her, that from all her goodness and freedom, he got no advantage, nor durst discover his thoughts otherwise than by profound sighes, sted­fast looks, and passionate actions. The Princess was not so innocent, but that she began to discern and distinguish acts of civilitie from those that are foun­ded on other motives, and as she had an apprehension most admirable considering her age, so she soon per­ceived in the Prince, that which his mouth durst not declare unto her. Caesarion for his rare parts was by this time become the admiration, and delight of all the Ethiopian Court, and was so well perfected in those Sciences and exercises which he began to learn in Egypt, that every one looked on him as an extraor­dinary person, and yet I must tell you he met with a Youth at Meroe about his age, that was not inferi­our to him excepting in his birth. If I were not now relating the History of my Prince, this young Gentle­man [Page 199] would deserve a particular Narrative by its self, for to speak plainly, I cannot bereave him of that ho­nour which his enemies themselves doe say that he deserveth. Amongst a great number of servants wherewith the Princesses Court was filled, there were many that were wholly dedicated to her service, who never stirred from her, but only when womens atten­dance was onely necessary; they were alwayes in a readiness to receive her commands, and their greatest studie was to divert her; they were for the most part noble by birth, and the King made choice of them a­mongst the most accomplished in his Countrey, a­mong whom the young Britomarus appeared with wonderfull advantages, for although he was the son of a stranger, who for some years past had lived in E­thiopia, so that his Gentilitie was difficult to prove, yet the rare qualities wherewith he was endowed, made the King to waive all other considerations. I may truly say, that I never saw a more compleat Gentleman, either for outward or inward perfecti­ons; his stature was comly, his countenance sweet and amiable, and yet grave, his eyes were full of live­liness and vivacity, but in his air Port, mind and a­ction, there appeared something, too high and noble for so obscure a birth; his spirit was as lofty as the rest, for although he would comply with, and submit to those who might lawfully challenge superiority o­ver him, yet he would never yeeld to any who by rea­son of their birth, or other advancement would pretend to command him, and in truth he lived with his companions, as if hee had been their master; and although there were divers amongst them that were of the noblest of the Ethiopian Families, [Page 170] yet he regarded none more than another, excepting those who excelled in vertue. It was onely before the Princess that he observed his distance, and when any thing was to be done for her, he would seldome per­mit any to doe it but himself. This young Gentleman was much about the age of Caesarion, but yet hated him for that which in others he so much commended, I believe a naturall Antipathy of Spirits contributed much to this aversion; but he had besides many other motives to incite him to hate the Prince, which carried him on to those Acts which are worthy the recitall, and which will oblige me to make a more particular relation of them, than the quality of the person doth require. My Prince went one day into the Garden by the Palace, for to meet with the Princess, who at that time was gone thither, where walking through an al­ly he met with Britomarus, who held a Posey in his hand, which he had made, with an intent to give it to the Princess; assoon as my Prince saw it, he had a mind to give her that Present himself, & therfore stay­ing him, Britomarus, said hey give me that Nosegay, that I may present it to the Princess; My Lord, replyed Britomare, I have made it expresly for that purpose, & if you please to permit me I wil carry it to her my self; you may make another for that purpose, if you think good, replied the Prince, but you shall suffer me to de­liver that to her▪ assuring you that I wil acquaint her that it comes from you. Britomare durst not refuse that which the Prince desired from him, knowing well how much he was in the Kings favour, but yet he yeelded to him with such an action as did sufficiently manifest his repugnancy. Caesarion in stead of being angry at his carriage, was much taken with his courage, and for [Page 171] to satisfy him had returned him his Posey if he had not presently hastned away out of the Garden: he would fain have sent for him back, so great was his regret for offering him that displeasure, had I not hindred him from it, and acquainted him that Bri­tomare was not so considerable a person that he should be any way troubled at his anger: this was not the onely occasion which my Prince gave him of com­plaint, for as Britomare was the boldest of the com­panie, so did he make use of every occasion to serve the Princess, and oftentimes Caesarion would come into the Princesses Chamber and hinder him of that honour, so that he was wont to resign up his office to the Prince, but it was never with­out a deep resentment, which might have been observed by his countenance: yet for all this the Prince was never offended with him, although his love made him a little jealous, to perceive his constant employment by the Princess: for al­though he was of a very sweet disposition, and very unwilling to doe any one a prejudice, yet the infe­riour quality of Britomare made him not to regard his displeasure, not once suspecting whence procee­ded his readiness to obey the Princess, but thought that his only aim had been to make himself great: during this time, my Prince pined away every day, without daring once with his mouth to declare his passion▪ although his countenance and behaviour did sufficiently discover it: At last after a long con­testation with himself, he adventured, it was in the Temple of the Sun, where the Princess was kneeling at her devotion, and the Prince standing behind her a long time without interrupting her, but afterwards [Page 172] she looked about, and espying him in that posture, after that she had mildly rebuked him for his want of devotion, she perswaded him to kneel on his knees and worship the Gods: the Prince immediatly o­beyed her, and kneeling down behind her, I bend my knees said he according to your commandement, but the Gods must excuse me if I tell you that you are the chiefest deity that I shall adore so long as I live; having so said he looked down, the Princess blushed, perceiving well the drift of his discourse, and knowing well that his constant carriage towards her had alwaies confirmed the truth of what he had said: yet she would seem not to understand his meaning, but the blood in her face sufficiently manifested her thoughts, and the confusion that she was in hindred her from replying: the Prince gaining courage from her silence was willing to proceed in his discourse: if you reject my adorations and services, you will not imitate the example of those Gods to whom you have commanded me to direct my prayers, and I may safely affirme to you in their presence, that those resentments which I have for you doe not give way to the reverence which we owe to them. Give me leave Madam to make this declaration in their own Temple: I must confess my boldness is too great, and my pretensions too high, for to expect a pardon from a lesser goodness than yours, therefore have I covered them a whole year in silence, and never at­tempted to discover them unto you, but when it was impossible for me to conceale them: if you find any thing in them that may deserve your censure I shall not endeavour to excuse it, and I will allege nothing for my justification, but the violence you [Page 173] offer me which a far greater strength than I am able to make cannot resist he had without question said more, had not the Princess interrupted him▪ she could not justly be offended at any thing he had said, be­ing a Prince who not onely for the greatness of his birth, but for the perfections of his person might challenge precedency from all other Princes of the world; and besides she heard nothing from him but what she long before had observed by his carriage, how ever she was then much surprised, and not de­siring to hear him further on that subject, I am sorry said she, that you have interrupted my devotions for no other end than to entertain me with a discourse so unpleasing to me, and you will much satisfy me, if you will hence-forward seek some other discourse: If I have displeased you replyed the Prince, I will patiently submit to any punishment that you shall please to inflict on me; and if it hath bin my misfor­tune to merit your anger, for discovering to you my thoughts, which are full of veneration and respect, I shall not think any thing unjust or too rigorous for to expiate the crime that I have committed: Its not proper for me replyed the Princess, to inflict punish­ments on a Prince of your quality, I can onely com­plain to you of the discourtesy you doe me, in troub­ling me with such discourse as I neither understand nor approve of: she uttered these words with so cold an action as immediatly silenced the Prince, and therefore receiving into his heart the displeasure which the anger of the Princess had given him, he retired with so sad and mournfull a countenance, as put him almost out of knowledge. His grief might have increased had I not (upon the hearing of the relation [Page 174] of his adventure) given him some comfort, by telling him, that he could not well expect a more favourable answer from a Princess, who never heard the like dis­course; the Prince was hereupon much encouraged, and resolved not to recoyl upon the first denyall of his Princess; in the mean time he carried himself with the same respect to her as he had formerly, yet shee seemed more strange than usually, by neglecting to de­sire his company to walk, or at other pastime, but still used him with the same civilitie as before shee had done, although she debarred him of apportunities of continuing on his former unpleasant discourse; but if his mouth was silent, his eies and actions did manifest sufficiently his thoughts; and though the Princess had been less apprehensive than she was, yet she must needs have known that it was his respect onely that tyed up his tongue, and that his passion in stead of growing cold by reason of her cold entertainment, augmented and waxed more hot every day than other; in this condition was his business, when as there hap­ned a memorable accident worthy the relating.

At a solemn Feast that was celebtated at Meroe for the birth of the Princess there were many courses run on horseback without the Town, the King was there present in person, together with the whole Court, most of the youth of the Nobility were busied in this exercise, and indeed they appeared with as much Magnificence and Gallantry as was possible; they ran all in Arms, and brake their Launces against a mark that was set up for that purpose, and did mady other rare feats for to shew their activity, and address; Caesarion was by this time about seventeen years of age, and was strong enough for any exercise, [Page 175] so that he appeared there in very rich armour, which the King had given him, his Helmet was shadowed with black and white Feathers, and his Horse was milk white, which he made to goe with a wonderfull grace; now as it was the first time that I had seen him armed, so I looked on him with great satisfactien, he seemed to me so gracefull, that I could not look suffi­ciently on him. The King, Princess, and all the as­sembly had their eyes fixed on him, and I think there was scarce any one whose affections he drew not to­wards him. Before the Exercise, most of the young Gallants went to their Mistresses, and desired favours openly from them, for that at that time they were not easily to be denyed them, so that there was scarce any one who had not gotten either Knots, Scarfs, Bracelets, or such like favours, onely Britomare stood still neer the scaffold where the King, Princess, and divers Lords and Ladies were placed, without once offering to stirre for to gain favours with the rest. Now as every body did respect this Gentleman, so did they interest themselves in his neglect. The King obser­ving him, called him unto him, and asked him why he desired not favours from some Lady as well as his companions? This bold youth looking on the King, answered; My Lord, said he, I have lived hitherto a­mongst all the Ladies of your Court without the losse of my liberty for any one of them, for although I doe much honour all of them, according to my du­ty, yet there's not one of them to whom I have par­ticularly engaged my affection; I have been onely de­voted to the service of the Princess, to whom your Majestie hath given me, and although I ought to look on her as a subject and domestick servant, yet she [Page 176] must excuse me, if I doe profess that I will accept of no favours from any body but her self; I never had any other design than to doe her service, and therefore my desire is only to be commanded by her. Whilst Britomare spake after this sort, the boldness of his action having affected the whole company with ad­miration, they gave a great shout or acclamation, which so farre emboldned him, that he went directly to the Princess, and casting himself upon his knees, if your Highness. said he, shall be pleased to honour rhe meanest of your servants, with such an effect of your goodness, there will be no body in this great assem­bly that can contend with me for the Prize of this day, or the victory in any Combat whatsoever, when as I shall undertake it for your service. The words and action of Britomare were diversly taken by the assistants, some blamed his audacity, others excusing the rashness of his youth, imputed it to the greatness of his courage, which had alwayes manifested it self in his other actions. The King himself was of this number, and in stead of rebuking his temerity, com­mended his carriage, and commanded the Princess to give him somewhat. Candace was preparing to obey him, when as my Prince, who observing the action of Britomare, with another eye than the rest of the company, and being touched with a pricking jealou­sie at this proud demand, could not endure to see him possess that happiness which was designed for him, and imagining that the favours of his Princess were onely due to himself, could not endure that a person so much inferiour, should goe away with these advan­tages which he dared not to ask; with these thoughts he hastned to the Princess, and kneeling on one of [Page 177] his knees, I durst not be so bold, Madam, said he, for to aspire unto the favour that Britomare hath desired, I thought my self as unworthy of it as he is without question; but yet if you shall please to favour any body so much, I think I may more justly lay claim to it than himself, and shall as well defend it in any kind of encounter. The Prince had no sooner spoken, but his request was granted, and the King not permitting the Princess to reply, Give to the Prince Cleomedon, said he, the favour which he desireth, Britomare shall not dispute his pretensions with him, but to content him, command one of your Maids to give him a fa­vour. If this language seemed terrible to Britomare, sure I am it was very pleasing to my Prince, who ri­sing up, received from the fair hands of the Princess Candace, a very rich Bracelet, and as soon as he had kissed it, for to shew his respect, he mounted on horse­back, transported with joy and satisfaction, and then hastened toward the front of those who were to be­gin the courses. Britomare was called on to receive a present from Artemis, one of the Princess her Maids of honour, but he not so much as looking towards it, got on his horse, and spurred away in great hast out of the company. The Exercises began, but I shall not trouble you with a description of them; It shall suffice that I tell you that my Prince behaved himself with so much gallantry and nobleness, insomuch that all the company were not onely exceedingly delighted to see him, but the King and the Court were confir­med in the great hopes that they had of him. To­wards the end of their sports, my Prince retired a lit­tle to take the ayr a little way distant from the com­pany, where he espied Britomare standing in a discon­solate [Page 178] posture behind a tree, observing the carriage of his companions. Although the Prince was not well pleased for that which hee had done, yet the punish­ment which hee had received, togethet with the great esteem which he had of his vertues, moved him to pitty. In fine, the abundant goodness of his nature could not endure to see him so disconsolate and af­flicted with a displeasure which he had occasioned, without disposing himself to comfort him: being in this mind, he rode towards him on a soft gallop, and being come neer him, he perceived the tears hanging on his eyes, which truly moved my Prince to com­passion towards him. What Britomare (said he un­to him) you lament and grieve, and it may be you have little cause so to doe, I wonder to see this in you, in whom we have observed so many marks of a great courage. Yes, my Lord, replied Britomare, I weep, and I might shed tears of blood, when I consider the injustice of my fortune, that hath exposed me to those miseries which my spirit cannot bend under. And have you no other ground for your affliction, replied the Prince, than that which is known to us? No, replied Britomare, for they are enough to bring me to my grave since the heavens that have given me a high spirit, have not given me a birth suitable, that so I might make use of it. I was born, my Lord, with a heart as good as yours, and thoughts altogether as high, it may be; it is onely fortune that hath differen­ced us, when as vertue possibly could not have done it. Its by reason of those advantages, that you are in a condition to affront mee every day, whilst I am enfor­ced to bear it patiently; you have heaped shame, dis­grace and discontent on me several times, and al­though [Page 179] respect hath made me endure it without murmuring, yet my courage could never stoop un­der it without grief and reluctancy. If I had recei­ved these injuries from any body, with whom I might have measured a sword, by which I hope one day to get some credit, this sadness, which you see in my face, would suddainly vanish and disperse it self; but for that it is my unhappiness to be affronted by a Prince from whom I cannot hope for that satisfaction, I am resolved to turn my weapons against my self, and so correct that ambition which would fain be aspiring above my birth. Whilst Britomare spake, the Prince heard him with admiration; for although he perceived somewhat of temerity and unbounded am­bition in his action, yet he perceived withall so great a courage which he could not disapprove; upon this consideration, he answered him in this sort: I well thought Britomare that the difference that is between us would have prevented all disputes of this kind, and that you ought not to have been troubled at those advantages I have had of you, for this cause I have been so careless of offending men of great courage, which for the time to come I shall be better able to prevent. I am sorry that I have offended you, and the better to express my displeasure, I will not seek for excuses from my quality or condition, that so I may refuse you that satisfaction which will so much comfort you; I will grant your courage that which your birth could not expect from me, and possibly I may let you know, that its not fortune onely, that hath put a difference between us. Ah! my Lord replyed the young Britomare (who upon the hearing of this discourse was transported with joy) you shew [Page 180] your self to be indeed a Prince, and Britomare is much engaged unto you for the honour you are pleased to doe him: I accept your free offer with more satis­faction than I should have for the gift of a Crown: I will make no other use of the favour you shall doe me, than to let you see that I am not altogether un­worthy of it. I should not have been so presumptious as to desire it of you, but since you have made me so Noble an offer, so hereby I may comfort my self for all the injuries you have done me, I can by no means let slip the opportunity of accepting it. Let us be go­ing then, replyed boldly the Prince, who began to be somewhat in choler, and since you desire that so much, which you say will be so great consolation to you, let us quit the sight of that multitude of persons who possibly may hinder us in our design; our weapons are equall, so that I can have no advantage against you in that kind. With that he spurred on his horse from the company, Britomare being exceedingly re­joyced, followed close after him, so that in a short time they lost the sight of the company; yet they were not minded to stop, untill they were gone a mile or two off, for fear of an interruption, at length they came into a plain valley, where none could look on them, and Caesarion judging that place convenient, made a stop, and turning about towards Britomare, Let us goe no further said he, but as soon as wee have given our horses breath, let us here end our quar­rell. Britomare was so rejoyced, that he gave the Prince no answer, but giving his horse breath, hee looked on the Prince with such an eye, as might dis­cover his willingness to engage. Their age and stature were equall, and it was the first time that either of [Page 181] them had put on arms, they had each of them a lance in their right hand, and a shield in their left, their horses were very good, and expresly chosen for the solemn exercise of that day: they had scarce the patience to breath, but defying each other with a great shout, they lanced at one another with so great impetuosity, as could not well be expected from the most accomplished Warriers, much less from them who were newly entered into that exercise; they brake both their lances inshivers against their shields, and the two young Champions were so little dismayed there­at, that without any disturbance they drew forth their swords, which never untill that time were un­sheathed upon such an occasion, and shaking them in the ayr in a very menacing sort, they made at each other as furiously as before at the first passe; they both drew blood, and at the second they received each of them a great wound, Britomare was run through the left Arm, and Caesarion through the flesh of his thigh, there was never two Champions that saw their bloud spilt with more violent resentments than these, for they equally desiring a revenge and victory, [...]un at each other, with so little precaution, that if the Gods had not protected their lives which they sligh­ted, they had undoubtedly dispatched each other in this very beginning to exercise their weapons: they had received each of them another small wound, when as comming to graple, my Prince caught hold of him, which the other perceiving did the same, after which, they both set spurs to their horses with a design to drag each other on the ground, which ac­cordingly hapned, where they rowled over each o­ther with wonderfull fury; but with this fall and [Page 182] strugling, they lost so much blood and spirits, that when they agreed to rise, they had not the strength scarce to hold their swords, nevertheless they made at each other as well as they could, and without doubt had ended the combat, with both their lives, which untill that time had been managed with e­quall advantage, if we had not fortunately found them, time enough to prevent such a mischief. Their sudain departure made us to suspect somewhat, al­though the mad rashness of Britomare was far from our thoughts, but I having alwaies my eyes upon the Prince, and care for him, could not be satisfied with the ground of his departure, but took a horse, and in the company of divers Gentlemen rode after him; we arrived there as I told you in the nick of time, for to separate the two young Combatants, and we found them in such a condition, as our comming was of absolute necessity. As soon as my Prince saw us, he sighed for grief to be interrupted, and fearing lest some displeasure might be given to Britomare, he put himself before him in a posture to defend him. Assoon as he perceived me in the head of the Compa­pany, My Father said he, if you love my life, take care that Britomare be not injured; Its I, that have as­saulted him, and inforced him to defend himself, I am resolved to dye rather than suffer him to receieve any harm: I will defend my life as well as I am able my self, said the furious young man, without being obliged to you for it, after I have attempred what I could against yours. These Noble and ge­nerous speeches made us to admire them, and in the mean time, taking care for the preservation of Bri­tomare according to the Princes desire; we dismounted [Page 183] from our horses in haste, and run to the two Com­batants, just as they fell down through weakness on the grass. I caught up my Prince in my Arms, wet­ting his cheeks with my tears: but when I put him on horse-back, and mounted my self behind for to support him, he desired that they would doe the same for Britomare, and being not contented with that care of him, he made me unlight, and commanded Neander to supply my place, to the end that I might goe to the King and beg pardon for the pre­sumption of Britomare, and acquaint him that un­less he would grant it, he would never look him a­gain in the face. I had with much importunity and intreaty procured his pardon from the King (who was resolved to punish him severely) yet upon this condition, that he should depart the Country, assoon as he should be recovered of his wounds, and never presume to return again. By this time my Prince was conducted into the Town, and put into his Bed, where his wounds were soon searched by the Chi­rurgians, who found that they were no way dan­gerous, and that the losse of much blood had oc­casioned his greatest indisposition; when they had applied their remedies, and bound up his wounds, they ordered him rest and silence untill the day fol­lowing; in the mean time the report of his generosi­ty was spread over all the Town and Country, and the report which Britomare himself made to his friends of the noble and free carriage of the Prince filled all the Court with admiration. I was very much re­joyced to hear him every where commended, and I was soon freed of the fear and discontent which his wounds had occasioned in me, when I considered [Page 184] the nobleness of his carriage and the manifestation of his great courage in this his first encounter. I could not perceive any thing throughout the whole action, that might not well become the son of Julius Caesar and Cleopatra, and although I seemed to blame the Prince, for fear lest he should oftentimes engage upon the like occasion, yet it was after such a sort, as he might well perceive, that I could not well disaprove of what he had done. The King came to visit him assoon as he might with conveniency, where after that he had let him know by many loving and familiar expressions, how much he was interessed in his welfare, he sufficiently commended his generous carriage, although respecting the consequence of it, he seemed somewhat to blame him, and intreated him that he would never more, upon so slight an oc­casion, hazard his person against a man of so low a ranck as Britomare. The King was no sooner gone from him, but the Princess his daughter by express order from her Father came to visit him. The Prince no sooner saw her, but his joy was so excessive, that his wounds were in danger of opening, and by the change of his countenance a man might easily per­ceive the movings of his spirits. The fair Princess being sate by his Bed side received his thanks, with as much modesty, as Majesty, and assoon as she spake, she assured him in very obliging tearms, of her reall sorrow for his indisposition; and upon this discourse Caesarion took occasion to entertain her concerning his passion, and perceiving that all the company kept at a distance out of respect; Its but just Madam said he, that I should purchase your favours with that little blood, which they have cost me, but yet if with [Page 185] that little which I have already lost, I should give all that yet remaineth in my veins, I should not pay a sufficient prize for the least of them. I am very sor­ry replyed Candace, that by the Kings command I gave you such a present, as might haved proved fa­tall to you, and at least hath cost you so much blood, too pretious for to be shed on so slight an occasion: You despise and undervalue replyed the Prince, that which the most ambitious Princes doe preferre before Empires, but if I were to dispute the value of them, against any one but your self, there's not any one that I should not make affirm, that all other good or content is contemptible, in respect of the favours of the Princess Candace. I must confess that I should more prize that which I have obteined, if I had got­ten it from her own disposition, and not by the Kings command, or upon any other consideration than that of obedience. I know that my request savou­reth too much of boldness, but in this weak condi­tion, its a hard matter for me to forbear, and if it hath occasioned your anger, I am here ready to make you satisfaction, and to give that blood and spirits that are left in me, for the reparation of the offence which I have committed. I doe not desire said the Princess such satisfaction as you offer, for any offence that you can give me, and we doe not put so low an esteem on your life, but that we could rather suffer much from you than put that in hazard, but you will much oblige me, if you shall please to find another subject to discourse on, and not to enforce me (by using such language that I scarce un­derstand) to visit you very seldome; she spake these words with so serious an action, that the Prince [Page 186] had good cause to fear that he indeed had displeased her and being of this opinion, If I am so unfortunate, said he, to displease you, either by my discourse or acti­ons, I protest unto you (whom I am resolved to ac­knowledge for my Soveraign Deity as long as I live) I will inflict on my self such a punishment as shall give you satisfaction. The Gods had raised up Britomare for to punish my presumptuous ambition in looking so high as your self, and since his hand alone hath not been able to doe it throughly, I will help the justice of his quarrell with the assistance of my own; and since its a rashness so deserving your anger, to open my lips before you, for to declare a passion which you so justly misllike, I will shut them with a perpetuall si­lence. The Prince spake these words with so passio­nate an action, that the Princess was exceedingly moved thereby to pitty him, and being not willing that he should with his continued replies afflict him­self more; I have already told you, that I doe not desire from you such cruell reparations; and I now tell you again, that you should think on nothing more than the recovery of your health, in this place where there is no body that loves you so ill, as to de­sire that any mischief should befall you. She said no more, for that there came in divers persons of quality into the Chamber, amongst which was Tiribaze the Kings favouritc, or indeed the second King of Ethio­pia; I have not yet told you any thing concerning him, but in my remaining discourse I shall make much mention of him, for that he is one of the chiefest parties concerned in this History; Hee is a man of the greatest Familie in Ethiopia, of a great spirit, and greater ambition, very comely of person, [Page 187] and well experienced in all things, and indeed one who very well deserved the great trust and high em­ployment which he then had; as he was in good cre­dit and esteem with the King, so had he a greater re­pute amongst the souldierie, whose hearts he so well gained during his employment amongst them, that he had the absolute command and disposition of them. In fine, he was the greatest man in all Ethiopia; for although there were some that were neerer allied to the Crown, yet their authority was much lesse than his. There being at that time no ground of difference between him and the Prince, they lived very friendly together (Tiribaze knowing that the King was mach pleased therewith) at that time he gave the Prince a civill visit, and stayed there so long as the Princess, and when she withdrew, he accompanied her to her lodging. My Prince had the happiness to see her di­divers times, whilst his wounds kept him in his bed; but from all the discourse he then had with her, he could not make any good judgement of his fortune, neither could he discover what impression he had made on her spirit. He had no sooner quit his bed with an intention to walk abroad the next day, but newes was brought him, that Britomare (whose cure was wrought as well as his) was at the doore, and desired admission to see him, we opposed rhis inter­view, fearing lest Britomare who was become des­perate, should have attempted something against his life, but he knowing his heart better than we▪ and ha­ving no cause to distrust him, he commanded us to let him come it. Britomare came into the Chamber with his face somewhat pale, and his arm tyed up in a Scarf, but with a countenance and behaviour so [Page 188] noble, that notwithstanding our prejudiciall thoughts concerning him, he drew both our respect and affecti­on towards him. Caesarion rose up to meet him, and Britomare very civilly aboarded him, although with a countenance somewhat sorrowfull. My Lord, said he, to the Prince, I was very unwilling to leave the Court before I had given you my thanks for those fa­vours you have done me; you have suffered me to draw a sword (as bad a souldier as I am) against a great Prince, you have protected me against the fury of your friends, and you have made use of your cre­dit with the King for my safety: these obligations, my Lord, how great soever, cannot make me your friend; the shame which you have put on me, and the grief I have to leave a place for your sake, where I have so strong an attachment, doe oppose against it, and my own nature doth require it; but I must tell you, that it was not to make this declaration, that I am now come to take my leave of you, but to assure you, that how great an enemie soever I am of yours, I shall seek all occasions for to acknowledge your ge­nerosity and nobleness. I am now going to seek my fortune, and it may be some repute in a Country that may be more gratefull than this, and I am not with­out hope but that by this sword, which I have had the honour to draw against you, I may get such ad­vantages as may perchance enable me to see you a­gain with as much credit as I ever yet saw you; my heart tells me that my birth is not inferiour to yours, and if it doth deceive me, I will punish its de­ceit, by making it to seek for that amidst the greatest dangers which my birth hath denied me. I have been contemned by the King of Ethiopia, the Princess his [Page 189] Daughter, and your self, and yet I shall be so bold as to tell you, that neither of you ever knew me, and I hope one day to appear before them in a condition to discover my self more than hitherto I have done. Having so said, he curteously saluted the Prince, and retired out of the Chamber without staying to hear any reply, although the Prince called after him, and followed him, that so he might speak with him; from thence he went immediatly to his horse, and rode a­way from Meroe, and since that time we have not seen him. Tiridate staied Eteockle, and told him that he was much deceived if he could not tell him some newes of this Britomare, and so much that I wonder you have not heard of him, but that deserves a discourse by its self, and therefore I will not inter­rupt yours. Eteockle was beginning to continue on his discourse, when one came and told him that the Queen was awaked, and had called for him; where­upon he took his leave of Tiridate for a few mo­ments, and in the mean time the Prince called for his cloathes and leapt out of his bed, where the narration of Eteockle had kept him longer then he had been accustomed.

The end of the third Book.

CLEOPATRA, The first part, the fourth Book.

IF the fair Queen of Ethiopia lay long on her bed that day, it was not so much for the trouble which she had undergone the day be­fore, as by reason of those cruell inquietudes, which would not suffer her to sleep before it was al­most day-light; she had spent the greatest part of the night in thinking on her misfortunes, and notwith­standing her courage, which she alwaies upon all oc­casions shewed, She could not refrain from a just la­mentation: the consideration of the losse of a King­dome, or at the least the shaking of it, was not the greatest cause of her displeasure, but the continuall doubting and fear of the safety of him who was most dear to her, did most afflict her. These just and sad thoughts drew not onely sighes from her breast, but complaints from her mouth, & tears from her fair eies, which did sufficiently wet the pillow on which she laid her head. Good Gods, said she, what crime have I cō­mitted, that I should deserve so much of your anger? and what is it that a Maid as I am have done, that I [Page 191] should draw on me your continuall indignation? Is it so great a crime for Candace to love the Son of great Caesar, that the loss of one of the richest Crowns in the world, so much suffering for one of my Sex and condition, and so many dangers that I have passed over for the preservation of my life and honour, have not been sufficient to make satisfaction for it? Is not this enough, but that I must be perpetually tormen­ted, and in fear for him whom I love more than my self? Alas! said she, a while after, it may be that I shall never more see my dear Caesarion, and except the heavens have mightily favoured him, he must needs sink under those dangers which my bad fortune hath drawn on him; and if it be so, let not Candace survive him a moment, let her be no more saved from the dangers of the Sea, or delivered out of the hands of her enemies let her not be protected from death, which would be a thousand times more pleasing to her than such a cruell and tormenting life. The fair Queen had enlarged her self further on his miseries and misfortunes, had not her Maid who lay with her, and had a great power over her, given her many sweet consolations. Candace hearkened to her, as well be­cause she loved her, as also because she flattered her concerning her misfortunes, and gave her great hopes of the recoverie of her Empire, and the safety of her Prince Caesarion. In these and such discourses and la­mentations she spent the greatest part of the night, untill the approach of the day-light, when sleep shut her fair eyes for the space of four or five houres: af­ter which she waking and finding no indisposition that might cause her to keep her bed, she comman­ded Clitia, which was the name of her Maid that lay [Page 192] with her, to rise, who presently after helped her to put on her cloathes; being risen from her bed, she walked two or three turns about the Chamber, at last she opened a window out of which she might both behold the Sea and the famous City of Alexandria, the sight of this place which had been heretofore the place of residence of her dear Caesarion, and his law­full inheritance, did again revive her displeasures, and looking with divers sighes on those proud and stately Walls which Alexander had built, Most desolate A­lexandria, said she, since thou hast lost thy greatest ornaments, since thy Antony's and Cleopatras and Ptolomies are driven out from thee, and since thou art fallen from thy pomp and triumph, to be subject to a Tyrannicall power; It was in thy bosome that my young Caesar first saw the light, and its to thee that I am engaged for his education during his infancie. To conclude, 'twas from thee that I heretofore received him, and its now my unhappiness to look on thy Walls without him, and I may be justly reproached by thee for detaining him so long from thee, but let this native soil of my beloved, pardon me, if I can­not restore that which it may be I have lost for my self; its cruell fate that keeps him from me, and yet I will resign to thee so much of him as I am able, in giving thee a heart where he lives as intirely as in the Countrey where at present he remaineth. Ha, said she, wiping off those tears which dropped from her eyes; can I look no way without seeing new objects of sorrow and lamentation? can nothing be re­presented to my imagination but that which must revive my displeasures? me thinks I have shed so many tears as would have drawn dry a huge Spring, and yet [Page 193] they flow as frequently from me, as at the first day of my grief: Ah! if it were so that the Companie of my dear Caesar would one day dry them up, I should think on them with delight, and I should from my heart prize and esteem the most dan­gerous and sad occasions which I have, to mani­fest the great affection which I have for him: but alas replyed she to her self with a more discon­solate action than before, such hopes are in vain and incertain, our enemies are barbarous and cruell, and those waves which I now behold on the Sea, are very inconstant: she had spent the great part of the day in these sorrowfull considerations, had not Clitia perswaded her to let her dress her, for to receive Ti­ridate who waited to give her a visit as soon as she was in a condition to receive him. Candace as it were comming to her self out of a profound sleep, at the solliciting of Clitia, looked on her with a lan­guishing eye, I had given my self up said she, to very sad thoughts upon the sight of Alexandria, and I am confident that thou canst not look towards that place where my Caesarion was born without much pitty: look said she, pulling her to the window, look on that deplorable City, where Cleopatra did bear him and breed him for to give him to me: Ah said she, with how much chearfulness, did I receive so rich a present from so noble a person, how choicely did I keep it, and with what regret doe I now suf­fer his absence, or it may be his loss; the Queen had never given over, she found so much new matter whereupon to exercise her griefs, if Eteockle, whom Clitia had sent for, had not come into her Cham­ber: assoon as she saw him she commanded him to [Page 194] goe to the Window to shew her, as well as he could at so great a distance, the Palace where he was borne and bred, and those places which he usually frequen­ted during his minority; The Queen having spent some time in this employment, at last she made her ready, and as soon as Tiridate had notice of it, he came to bid her good morrow; she met him and re­ceived him with an air full of sweetness and Majesty, and Tiridate, who then was acquainted with her name and condition, aboarded her with a respect an­swerable to her qualitie and dignitie: You see here, said the Queen, a very sluggish person, but it may be excused, when you consider how many nights and daies I have passed over without any rest, that I have taken so much of yours: I would to God Madam, replicd Tiridate, that I could give you a better resting place, than this poor corner of retreat: you should know without doubt, that the most dif­ficult and perillous occasions to serve you, would be very sweet and pleasant to those who can be so hap­py to meet with them: I must confess replied the Princess, I could not expect less nobleness from a Prince of the race of the Arsacides, for its inseparable from the blood which runneth in your veins, and you cannot hide it without a great dissembling; Its true replied Tiridate that the Arsacian family had ac­quired some reputation, by means of their vertues, before the inhumane Phraatus had defamed it by his cruelties; but now its the most opprobrious of all Royall families, and I think one cannot now pre­tend to be of that line, without participating of the shame that is fixed to it; The actions of Phraatus, replied the Queen, cannot be extended to you, and [Page 195] that brand which lyeth on him for his cruelty, can­not be thought a diminution of the luster of your vertues: the fair Queen had said more, if the mo­desty of Tiridate could have permitted her, for he interrupting her for to make her change the subject of her discourse, asked her how she passed away the night; if my spirits said the Queen could have rested so well as my body hath done by your goodness, I should answer you that I had spent the night very well, but since my inward afflictions could receive no ease from your assistance, you must excuse me if I tell you, that I was worse disposed than you, the whole night: God forbid, replied Tiridate, that you should undergoe such cruell torments as I doe, who am alwaies dying, and I am confident that if you knew how violent they were, you would not so much slight them. I perceive said the Queen that Eteockle hath not yet acquainted you with the sad accidents of my life, or at least that you have heard onely the beginning of them. Its true answered Tiridate that Eteockle hath onely began his discourse, and ended with that remarkable encounter between the Prince Caesarion and the young Britomare: then you have as yet heard nothing, said the Queen, but when you shall understand the whole story you will be of opi­nion, that I have greater cause of grief than your self; I am banished and chased from my native Country as well as you, and dispossessed of a Kingdom that may be very flourishing, and far distant from a per­son which I love, whom I likewise left environed with greater dangers than those which menace the life of Mariamne, and a midst such dangers as with­out an extraordinary assistance of the Heavens, it [Page 196] will be impossible for him to escape them: these af­flictions are great and considerable, especially con­sidering the person on whom they are accumulated, viz. So great a Queen as your self; you are absent as well as I from that person whom you have dee­med worthy of your affection; but the cause of my separation is much different from yours, for I believe that the Prince whom you love is as impatient for this absence as your self, and it may be helaments the loss of your Companie more than you doe his, and besides its fortune onely that occasioneth your miseries, and not the will of the person whom you love: but good Gods! my destinie is much different from yours, its the will and pleasure onely of Ma­riamne that is the cause of my miseries, Its by reason of her will onely, that I am banished from her pre­sence, and that which grieves me most, is to consi­der how that whilst I dye for her sake, she never at all thinketh on me: I would to God that not onely the Seas, but the whole strength of the Roman Em­pire, and all the world besides were against me, upon condition that I had the favour of Mariamne, how would I contemn every thing, or rather how pa­tiently would I endure all, were my miseries cast on me by fortune onely: Its from her onely that my miserie or happiness proceedeth, and whatsoever could happen to me on any other account, I should not be any way troubled at it. You doe truly love, replied the Queen, with an affection worthy your self, and the person whom you love; but I am ex­treamly mistaken, or otherwise your miseries are not so great as you have described them, if they are foun­ded onely on the will of Mariamne, my opinion is, [Page 197] that she is not wanting of affection towards you, and if she had not preferred the care of her reputation and the severe rules of her duty before her reall senti­ments, she would never have banished you from her presence, and would have given you such assurances of her acknowledgements, which I am confident she did not without much constraint and striving, keep from you. That last action which she did in your fa­vour, when she permitted you to see her (notwith­standing the great danger of your interview) could not come from such a one as Mariamne (who was never yet accused of lightness or imprudence, with­out a very great affection, and if her love doe not ex­cuse it, I know not what can; neither can I believe that she is wholly exempted from that which her ab­sence causeth in you, and I am of opinion that she passeth away few dayes without thinking on you. Alas, cried the amorous Tiridate (at the hearing of this discourse of the Queen) Alas! how pleasingly you flatter me and the authority of such a person as your self, is necessary to make me believe that to be so which in appearances seemeth to be otherwise. I am wholly unworthy both of the affection and remembrances of Mariamne, and the Gods are my witness I was never so ambitious as to think I could merit them, and yet I cannot hear this discourse of yours without some con­solation, conceiving that so divine a spirit is not so subject to errour as others are. They had continued on this discourse, had they not been interrupted by those who brought up their dinner; they dined all together, for neither the time nor place was con­venient to observe due Ceremonies. After dinner Tiridate told the Queen, that there were very plea­sant [Page 198] and private walks very neer the house, which made the Queen very desirous to walk abroad and take the ayr, and so after she had a while contem­plated on those objects which represented them­selves to her eye out of the window, she went forth, being led by Tiridate, and attended on by Eteockle, and Clitia only, they walked awhile on the Strands by the Sea side, and considered the admirable ebbing and flowing of the Sea, which hath empuzeled the whole number of Philosophers, but the Queen being incommoded with the sand, Tiridate desired her to walk into a pleasant Valley; this place was enviro­ned with Rocks and Woods, and watered with sweet Springs that made a very green and fruitfull Med­dow. The Queen was extreamly taken with it by reason of its solitariness, for that she had no desire to be seen, and had an intention to acquaint Tiridate with her adventures, which he as yet was ignorant of, she made choice of a place between the Rocks which was covered with Mosse, from which she could see all that passed in the Meddow, in which place shee sate down, and desired Tiridate to sit by her, Eteockle and Clitia reposed themselves about six-paces distant from their Mistris on the grass. The fair Queen, after a short silence, looked on Tiridate, and blushing told him, that she was obliged in making the narrative of her life, to acquaint him with some foolish pas­sages and actions, which in modesty she ought to omit: but since it is not just or reasonable, said she that I should make use of your assistance or ask ad­vice from you in a business which you doe not under­stand, I will inform you throughly of the condition of my life, of the cause of my being cast into this [Page 199] Country, and afterwards you shall advise me, if you please, how I shall proceed, and what course I ought to take for the security of my person: I shall be alwaies more ready to serve you with my person, than my advise, being altogether uncapable to give any to a Queen so prudent and knowing as your self however in obedience to your command, I shall make use of that little judgement which I have left, without gi­ving your Majesty the trouble of reciting that which I may as well hear from your servant Eteockle; it would be too great a pain for your Majestie, and too great a fault in me so to abuse your goodness. Candaee was about to reply, and prepared her self to con­tinue on the Historie, where Eteockle had left; when they were interrupted with the noise of horses which they heard very neer them, which made them to stand and look round about them for to discover what they might be; they had no sooner looked to­wards the Meddow, but they espied two men on horse­back comming out of the Wood into the Meddow; hee which seemed to be the Master, by reason of the luster of his Armour, as his noble port and mind, drew immediatly their eies attentively towards him; the ground of his Armour was black, but it was edged with gold, and enriched with divers Rubies and Gemmes in the most considerable places. His Casque was very glorious, and shaddowed with black and red Feathers, which hung down over his shoulders; his horse was black, but beautified with some white marks, and at that time was almost all white with sweat and foam; his Escucheon was born by his Page, and was of the same work with his other armour▪ on which he bore a Crocodile with some words written [Page 200] in the Roman tongue. In this posture this unknown Knight leaped his horse over a hedge for to come into the Meddow, with an intention to repose himself, and let their horses feed on the grasse; for this pur­pose they unlighted from their horses, by which means Tiridate and the Queen beheld his admirable stature, and indeed he walked so stately, that they were much surprized to see him, but they were more satisfied when as he took off his Helmet to cool himself, and gave it to his Page, by which means they saw his head and face, they never saw a more compleat Gentle­man: his complexion was somewhat brown, his eies black, but accompanied with such resplendent raies, as did almost dazle the eyes of the beholders; his hair was of the same colour, but extraordinary long, and hung in naturall curles on his shoulders; In fine, all his parts were so well composed, that envy it self could not find out any defect in him; So well propor­tioned was this unknown person, and indeed far bet­ter than I am able to describe him. But assoon as hee was dismounted, he took off the Bridle from his horse head, and turned him loose to feed, and then sought for a place to repose and refresh himself after the toil of a long and tedious voyage. The fair Queen of Ethiopia, and the Prince Tiridate were great ad­mirers of this stranger; and it so hapned, that their curiosity was much favoured by his comming to­wards the Rock where they were, to rest himself, the Rock interposed between him and their sight, but he was so neer them, that they could well hear the dis­course he had with his Page, who after that he had taken some care for the horses, came to his Master, and having layd down his Casque, Shield, and two [Page 201] Javelins at his feet, he layd himself down by him; Repose your self a little, my Lord, said he, and if it be possible let one hours sleep put an intervall to your displeasures, the strength or health of any body else would have been by this time destroyed with those afflictions which you have suffered, and it will be im­possible that yours should long hold out, if you con­tinue tormenting your self in this sort. This officious Page spake in this manner to his Master, who with two or three sighes prepared himself to reply; Cease, said he, my dear Emilius, from troubling thy self for the preservation of my life, which is not worth the care which thou takest for it, and which I look on as my worst and cruellest enemy; I loved it whilst it was dear to Cleopatra, but now she hath cast it into de­spair, I my self will take no further care for it. But, my Lord, replied the Page, to what purpose then have you acquired so much repute in your youth, by means of your courage, and to what end have you spent so many years, and made so great a progress in the study of Philosophie? my courage and Philosophie replied the stranger, doe make me endure that with some mo­deration, which without their help, might have occa­sioned in me effects of fury and transportation, and such foolish actions as it may be might have been the talk over all the Roman Empire; but they cannot hinder me from the resentment of such an affliction as mine is, unless they should take away the sensitive facultie of my soul, whereof its in part composed: that knowledge that I may have above others, doth hinder me from murmuring against the Gods, and from dispairing of their Goodnesse, but they can no way hinder my sighing, or otherwise complaining, [Page 202] and from shewing my self a man afflicted, having the greatest cause of affliction, as it may be. I have been rejoyced and elevated with those prosperities which have deceived me, and if thou dost remember how I have overcome great displeasures, when they procee­ded from other causes than the will of my ungratefull Princess, thou wouldst well know that I have shewed both courage and moderation sufficient. All that I have suffered by reason of the cruell subtilties of Ti­berius, by the Tyrannicall authoritie of Augustus, and many other traverses of fortune, which are well known to thee, I have supported them, when as ma­ny a one would have been overwhelmed with them; But after this discovery of the pittiless intentions of my Princess Cleopatra, I may not onely be afflicted, but I must die Emilius, there is no courage, there is no Philosophy that can lawfully hinder this resoluti­on. Hee uttered these words, raising his voyce with so passionate a tone, insomuch that those who heard him were moved to pitty, and the Prince Tiridate was about to discover a thought which came into his mind, when as they heard him continuing his dis­course, somewhat interrupted with sighes and sobs. Most inhumane and forgetfull Princess, said he, must so many services, and so many testimonies of my love serve to no purpose, but that you should so ungrateful­ly forget them; is it my inviolable fidelitie that hath merited this from you; and can you think that you shall in so doing, doe an act becomming the Daugh­ter of Antony and Cleopatra, or your own self in sa­crificing to dispaire an innocent life, and such a life as was intirely given to you without any reservation. Most just Gods, and those whom I have often invoked, [Page 203] and from whom I have had such great assistance in the course of my miserable life, if your anger doe yet continue against the remnant of that deplorable house, which hath been subjected by the Romans: convert your choler against me onely, and doe not punish me by afflicting those who are guilty, who as cruell as they are, I love a thousand times more than my self; if Cleopatra hath attracted your indig­nation, by her ingratitude to me, consider that she is the most exact workmanship of your hands, and as innocent as I know my self by the testimonies of my conscience, I must of necessity be guilty, and by some action or other I have deserved this disgrace from a person uncapable of error. If it be, so as I ought to believe it, is from the judgment I can make on what my Princess hath discovered, then doe I disa­vow and disclaim my life, thoughts, and actions that have had any other end besides the love, service, and glory of Cleopatra: the Gods are my witness I never knew any such, and if there have been any, they have so silently crept on me that I have not bin able to distinguish them from those which my Princess did approve of: This stranger had certainly continued on his complaints, if his Page (who was much trou­bled at his course of living) had not interrupted him: my Lord doe not give up your self, so wholy to your grief, as to forget who you are and what you should be: your affliction is truly great yet not desperate, and I am of opinion that as this change in the Prin­cess proceeds from some impression that some body hath given her of you, so I doubt not but that assoon as she shall be informed of the truth, I shall see you in the same condition with her as you have bin, and [Page 204] am confident that this misfortune is occasioned by the subtilty of that cunning Tiberius, and his mali­cious spirit I know would leave nothing unattempted for to make you loose that unto which he hath so long so unjustly pretended; but the mind of the Princess is not so prepossessed, but that in time she may discover your innocency; the amity of Agrippa and Marcellus will be very advantagious for that purpose, and fortune begins already to assist you, in bringing Cleopatra hither, who you know is expected very suddainly with the Emperour at Alexandria, all things will happen more commodiously for you here than at Rome, since no body knows of your being in this Country, and it may be those of the Emperours company doe doubt whether you are yet living. They have reason to doubt it, replied the sorrowfull stranger, for if I had followed those rea­sonable motives which my grief hath inspired into me, thou wouldst not be any longer in a capacity to trouble me every day with thy unprofitable conso­lations: I must confess that the intended comming of the Emperour to Alexandria doth somewhat comfort me, but its not so much out of hope to see Cleopatra, (before whom I dare not appear) as for to revenge my self on Tiberius, I know that trea­cherous man hath destroyed me with his artifices, but he may be sure that I will be his destruction, al­though he were encompassed with the arms of the Empress his mother, or of the Emperour himself who doth unjustly support and protect him against me: its rather with this intention, than to justify my self before her who hath soveraignly condemned me, that I am resolved to spend some time in these [Page 205] parts, and it may be that its for this purpose that I have preserved this deplorable life, which I ought long since to have sacrificed to my just resentments; the stranger left of speaking, and his Page not re­plying they remained silent, by which means those who hearkned to them, had time to communicate their thoughts to each other. Candace was much in­teressed in the name of Cleopatra, which she heard so often mentioned, for that she took her for no other than the Sister of her dear Caesarion, and Ete­ockle, who had the family of the deceased Cleopatra in great veneration, could not hear her daughter named without transportation: Tiridate, observing well by their countenances, the effects which it had wrought on them: I doe not wonder said he to see you amazed at this rancounter, and I am almost as much surprised as you are; but I believe I can give you some information, and if I am not very much mistaken, this stranger whose deportment we have so much admired, and whose discourse we have heard with so much attention, is the valiant Prince of Mauritani the son of King Juba who was defea­ted in Africa, with Cato and Scipio by Julius Cae­sar, his love to the Princess Cleopatra is well known, and much talked of at Rome, by reason of the won­derfull effects which it hath produced, and those re­markable differences between him and Tiberius, which every body hath taken notice of: he was not at Rome during my sojourn there, but if one may cre­dit reports, there never lived a more valiant man or Prince better accomplished: I will not suffer him said Eteockle to goe from us, before we have known him better, and before I have enquired of him some [Page 206] news of that Princess, whom I have borne oftentimes in my arms, and whose birth, name, and person is so dear unto me: and notwithstanding the desire I have to conceal my self, added Candace, I must needs see him that loveth so passionatly the Sister of my dear Caesarion, this consideration, together with the great commendation you have given him makes me to esteem him highly, and interest my self deeply in his fortune: I am very glad replied Tiridate, that you have such a resolution, and if you think it meet we will discover our selves to this brave stranger, and with your leave I will offer him that poor retreat which you have not refused, there we shall have an opportunity to see him at our leasure, and unless I am deceived to know the Prince of Mauritani: the fair Queen concurred in the design of Tiridate, so they rose up to put it in execution; whereas they were diverted and startled with a great noise of Ar­mour, and voices which they heard in a valley near the Meadow; with this noise the stranger was raised from his profound meditations and being unwilling to be surprised, he hastily took his casque and com­manded his Page to bridle his horse, which he had no sooner done but he mounted with great expe­dition, he was no sooner seated in his saddle, but he saw two men ryding out of the valley towards him, in a different posture in full speed, the first was un­armed, saving a sword which he had, and he fled before the other who pursued him armed from head to foot with his sword drawn in a menacing posture, and had almost overtaken him, the Armour of the latter was of a brown colour, but garnished with Gold and Silver in many places confusedly, on his [Page 207] Escucheon was pictured a Lion holding in one of his paws a horses tail, with an inscription which the be­holders could not read. If the posture of the latter was firce and furious, yet he that run from him was much differing, he having the fear of death imprinted on his countenance, and having his eyes elsewhere in hopes of succour; he at the last espied this Inamorate of Cleopatra, whom he saw in a condition to defend him against the rage and fury of his enemie; he rode directly towards him, and in a suppliant manner cried to him, my Lord I beseech you protect me from this cruell one, who would kill me at an advantage. He had not time to say more, and indeed he had spoken enough to a man on whom the sentements of vertue were too much imprinted, for to make him neglect to succour him, who had so much need of his assistance, and therefore without making any answer he put himself in a posture, to give him that which he desired from him, by interposing himself between them, but being desirous to try gentle wayes at the first, he cryed out to him at a distance, stay I pray you, and consider what glory you will get (being so armed) in outraging a man who is destitute of wea­pons to defend himself: this stranger who was as fiery and proud as any man living, being much in­censed against that man whom he pursued, could not endure the obstacle which opposed his design without turning his fury against him that had op­posed him; instead of answering him he lifted up his Sword and fell upon him as furious as a Lyon: thy life shall make recompence for that traytors whom thou hast protected against my just indig­nation, he accompanies those words with so furious [Page 208] a stroak that his enemy was much disordered by rea­son of the suddenness of it, which hee perceiving, thought to have gone on with his pursuit with­out any further contest, but the Inamorate of Cleo­patra suddenly recovering himself, seised en pas­sant, on one of the reins of the others bridle, which made his horse by reason of the tendernesse of his mouth so to rise, that hee was in danger of falling backward, but the rider being skilfull aided him with his hand, and applied his spurrs at the same time, so that he advanced without any other mischief, but ere he could well recover himself, he had lost the sight of his fugative enemy, which made him to give over the pursuit of him. and turn his choler against his new one; thou must needs be a wicked and perfidious fellow, said he, since thou dost protect those who are so; but thou shall repair by thy death the displeasure thou hast done me. Take care to de­fend thy self, replyed his enemy, and know that thou wilt have occasion to make use of more of thy skill and strength against me, than against him whom thou wouldest have pursued with so great an advan­tage. These words were scarse uttered, before these two famous Warriours made at each other with so much courage and fury, that any body besides them­selves, would have been suddenly vanquished. The Inamorate of the Princess Cleopatra, was stricken on his horse neck, and the other was enforced to fall back on the Croupe, but they suddenly recovered their seats, and left off defying each other, having had so large experience of each others courage, and made use of all that nature or art could instruct them for their advantage. The Prince of Mauritanie (for [Page 209] so it was according to the conjecture of Tiridate upon the hearing of his discourse) was not at the first so much moved as his enemy, but assoon as he perceived his Armour besprinkled with his blood, he was as furious as the other, and made at him so hotly, that he had soon obtained the victory, if he had met with a man that could have been conquered by one alone. The marks which they both gave of their valour, were much admired by the Spectators: but whilst Candace was much astonished at the sight, Ti­ridate and Eteockle rose up from their places for to endeavour, if it were possible, to part them, but it was a hard task for men to doe that, who were on their feet, and had no other arms than their swords, and therefore Tiridate thought it meet to attempt it by waies of meeknesse▪ and perswasion, and going to­wards them, he cryed out, valiant Gentlemen, will you kill each other without any ground of quarrell? and will you not rather employ your courage and strength against your enemies whom you have more occasion to hate? These words drew no answer, nor had any effect on them; but the two Champions in stead of hearkening to him, fell so furiously to it, and used such diligence to gain the Croup of each other, that Tiridate was in great danger to be trampled under their horses feet, so that he was enforced to retire, and expect the event of that furious Combat, the successe of which he much feared. These two Combatants had hitherto contended without any remarkable ad­vantage over each other, when as they saw a third gallopping towards them, which gave Tiridate hopes of his desire to separate them. The Armour of this last was very richly guilded with gold, and artificial­ly [Page 210] engraven, his Coat of arms was of embroidered gold, and garnished with Roman Eagles on his Escuchron, this Royall bird looked towards a Sunne, and on his Casque he lifted up his double head, displaying his wings in the same posture, as in the Roman Arms; the Arms of this Gentleman was not more remar­kable than his gracefull posture and noble address on horseback, so that although Tiridate and Candace were prepossessed with the former spectacle, yet they were enforced to leave looking on the others, and at­tentively observe this new stranger, but he gave them no great opportunity to look on him, for he no soo­ner espied one of the two Champions who bore a Lion on his Escuchron, but he pulling down his Visier that was half turned up, went to the Prince of Mauri­tanie. Valiant Sir, said he, I conjure you by the re­membrance of that which is most dear to you, to re­sign to me your place, that so I may continue on the Combat against your enemy, which I began before you, and which it may be is of greater importance then yours. The Prince had thought at the first of granting him that which he desired, if he had not been much incensed by reason of such a resistance which he never before met with. He was about to reply, but was hindered by his enemy, who seeing this third per­son, and knowing him; Come hither said he, and joyn thy forces to those of my enemy, I will not fear to fight you both, and I doubt not but I have strength enough to overcome, though you were a greater num­ber. Upon this he made at the latter with so much fu­ry, and gave so heavy a blow on his head that he very much disordered his seat, but he was not long unre­venged; but his enemy who had his Sword ready [Page 211] drawn, soon cut his Escuchron in pieces, & his arm that bore it, so that his horse ran a great way from them ere he could recover himself, and stop him; however he staied his horse as soon as he could, and being a­shamed of what had hapned, he turned towards his enemy, who as furiously made towards him; he was doubtfull at the first, whom he should strike first, but he not having much time to deliberate, went to the Prince of Mauritanie, and beckened to him with his head, as if he had something to say to him. Doe not doubt, said he, but I have courage and confidence enough to dispute with you both for the victory, but if you doe valur the desire of my enemy, I pray sa­tisfie your self in seeing us fight out a quarrell of greater importance than that which is between us, and I doe assure you, that as soon as I have obtained the victory, we will end our differences, I believe, re­plied the Prince, you are scarse in a condition to make an end with me, and I suppose that your enemies force and courage is so little inferiour to yours, that I cannot expect that you should gain any advantage against him, make an end therefore of that which thou hast begun with me, and if thou shalt be so for­tunate as to escape out of my hands, then shalt thou have leisure enough to decide this quarrell with thy enemy. This discourse of the Prince was not heard by his enemy, but he made towards the other Cham­pion who bore the Eagles, and was ready to receive his charge with equall animositie. The Prince of Mauritanie ran after with his Sword lifted up, but seeing him engaged with another as valiant as him­self, he was ashamed to strike him at such an advan­tage; he remained awhile in doubt how to proceed, [Page 212] being very loath to give over a conflict, the end of which he much longed for, and yet was not willing to prosecute it against a man that was engaged with another enemy as valiant as himself. During this ir­resolution, our two Champions loaded each other with such furious stroaks, that the goodness of their Armour was necessary for the preservation of their lives, however they wounded each other in divers pla­ces, and the blood issued forth in abundance from them both, which so farre incensed them in stead of weakning of them, that they assaulted each other with so much furie, as was never seen between two Combatants; the ground was becombered with their blood, when as amongst divers stroaks which they gave each other; they smote each other at the same time so furiously, that they were like both of them to fall from their horses. He who bore the Lions broke his sword on the others Casque, but with the blow cut off the buckles, so that it sell down on the ground, by which means his head was uncovered and disarmed. The spectators began then to see one of the most beautifull and majestick countenances as ever nature framed, but the Queen Candace and Ete­ockle had no sooner seen him, but running towards him quite transported, cried out, Oh my Prince! oh Cleomidon, the son of great Caesar (and he it was indeed, although he was so much heated, that he re­garded not their cries) he guarded his head with his Escucheon, and so made towards his enemy with his advanced Sword, who expected him with the same resolution; But the Prince of Mauritanie observing the countenance and action of the Queen, was very desirous to oblige her; And seeing those two Warri­ours [Page 213] in a condition to kill each other, he cast himself between them with an intention to separate them, he conceived that Caesarion (who had no ground of quarrell against him) would not offer him any vio­lence, whilst he attempted to doe him a good office, and he had no great reason to fear any hurt that his enemy could doe him with his broken sword, Tiri­date and Eteockle joyning their force with his at the same time, they soon siezed on the bridles of their horses, and so hindred them from comming near to each other; they were both much enraged to see their intentions hindred, and Caesarion sufficient­ly discovered it by the sparkling of his eyes, and the redness of his countenance; but at the same time hearkning to the cries, and looking towards Eteockle who held the bridle of his horse, and Candace who was very near him, and cried out to him by the name of Cleomidon, he soon knew both of them; he manifested his joy at the first by a great cry, and afterwards considering that his enemie was held back by the Prince of Mauritanie and Tiridate, he for­gat all thoughts of fighting for to run to his Prin­cess, when as they saw comming into the Mea­dow towards them with full speed neer twenty horse­men with their swords drawn, conducted by the same man who a little while before had fled, from that warrior, who bore the Lyon on his shields, and had bin defended from him by the Prince of Maurita­nie; these men aimed at one of them onely, but the other two forgetting, or at least suspending their ani­mosity against him, put themselves in a posture to defend him, these Champions fell furiously on them without any demurre, and the first they met with [Page 214] paid dear for their Roguerie; and they had to deal with such generous enemies as would not be daun­ted with their great number; the Prince of Mau­ritanie (who was better in breath than the rest) cut of the head of the first that he met with, and the arme of the second: even as he was about to strike him. This first slaughter gave opportunitie, to Caesarion to put on a Casque which Eteockle brought him, and he who bore the Lyons took up a sword in the place of the broken piece which he had in his hand: These two famous warriers were no sooner armed, but they joyned with the Prince of Mauritanie, and with their first blows slew and wounded divers of them, Caesarion clave the head of one of them in pieces, and the other Champion who bore the Lyons, ran another of them through the body, Tiridate obser­ving this action caught up a Casque and an Escuchron, and then mounted the horse of one whom the Prince of Mauritanie had newly slain, and came in to the succour of the above mentioned Princes, Eteockle and the Page of the Prince of Mauritanie did the like, so that the Queen with her maid remained the onely Spectators of the Combat. It was a prodigi­ous thing to see how gallantly men that were tired and wounded did behave themselves, insomuch that their enemies (notwithstanding their great numbers) began already to despair of the victory, Tiridate (although he was but half armed) layed two of them at his feet, and Eteockle bestirred himself notably for to assist and save his Prince; but whilst these four Champions were thus engaged, the chief of their enemies (who through fear kept some distance off from his Companie, and contented himself with ani­mating [Page 215] them with his voice) chanced to look on the fair Queen of Ethiopia, who with her eys and tears beheld the danger of her best beloved: he no sooner saw her, but he knew her, and therefore cryed out in this sort, Good Gods, how doe you restore that fu­gitive creature whom I lost with so much danger of my life; and at the same time, commanding one of his servants that was attending on him to follow him, he ran to her, even as she was thinking how to avoid him, and with the help of his Companion pla­ced her on his Saddle, and, notwithstanding all her strugling and striving, carried her away with great swiftness: his servant might have bin much troubled to bring away Clitia, had not her desire to follow the fortune of her mistresse hindred her from making any resistance; but alas! how was Caesarion perplexed when he be held his Princess in the power of her ravisher, and crying unto him for help! all the power and strength of his enemies, could not hinder him from following her, he having killed him that oppo­sed his design, but for an increase of bad fortune, his horse fell down dead under him being much woun­ded in the Combat, and incommoded him so much with the fall, that it was a long time ere he could get his leggs out of the stirrups, and indeed he had bin killed at the same time by his enemies, had not that Champion who bore the Lyons, with whom he had before sorely contested, defended him, who forget­ting the cause which he had to hate him, killed those who assaulted him, and laid hold of the rains of the bridle of one of them, just as Eteockle was unlighted to help his Prince, recover your self Cleomidon said he, and receive this relief from thy most cruell enemy, [Page 216] enemy, yet such a one as will not come behind you for nobleness. The son of Caesar at another time would not have received succors from one who de­clared himself his enemy, without declaring his thoughts, or seeking an opportunity of requitall; but at that time his thoughts were so wholy employ­ed on the loss of his Queen who had appeared and was vanished out of his sight like lightning, that he could not throughly consider the noble carriage of his enemy, onely he took the horse that he offered him and mounted him with extraordinary agillity considering the wounds he had then received. I know not, said he, who thou art, who whilst thou declarest thy self my enemy, thou doest performe the office of a dear friend, but I protest unto thee how great an enemy soever thou art, I will be alwaies rea­dy to adventure that life for thee which thou hast so generously defended; havlng so said, and being seated in his Saddle, and finding no enemies to op­pose him he set spurs to his horse, and hastened to overtake that man who was run away with his Princess; Eteockle minding nothing so much as his Princes interest, got on horse back, and made so great haste after him that he soon overtook him, by this time the Prince of Mauritanie and Tiridate had so ill treated the remainder of their enemies, that they quite despaired of the victory, and assoon as that valiant defender of Caesarion had joyned his force with theirs they bestirred themselves so well that they killed the whole Company of Rogues, excepting three who saved themselves by flight, those valiant Champions would not vouchsafe to put themselves to the trouble of following them, and when they [Page 217] were left alone together they admired the valour of each other: The noble stranger going to the Prince of Mauritanie, you even now did me, said he, a very great discurtesie, but you have since so nobly assisted me against those enemies, who intended onely my own destruction, that the remembrance of this good turn, doth make me not onely forget my former thoughts, but maketh me to seek all occasions to become your friend: I am very sorry (replied the Prince of Mau­ritanie) for the discourtesie I did you, having good cause to judge by what your self and the enemy hath since done, that he did well deserve the punishment you would have given him; but whilst I was igno­rant of the truth, I could not deny my assistance to any one who stood in need of it and desired it; and am very joyfull that with so small a service I have changed your opinion, and since I am so well ac­quainted with your courage, I doe with much glad­ness accept of the offer of your friendship: having so said they both discovered their faces by turning up the fore part of their Casques; if the valiant stranger was ravished with the beauty and Majestick aire of the Prince of Mauritanie, the two Princes, were not less surprized when they perceived the stately mind of this stranger, they conceived and not with­out cause, that they had never seen any one who surpassed him, they looked on each other, for some­time with mutuall admiration without any spea­king: But the Prince of Mauritanie breaking the silence, and looking towards Tiridate, who eyed them both with wonder and astonishment. Its to you said he that we are exceedingly obliged, and its your valour and noble resolution that we have cause to [Page 218] admire, since that being unarmed, you did cast your self into such a danger as might well startle those who were well armed, by which means you have given a very considerable assistance to divers persons whom you know not. The brave stranger added some ex­pressions of the same kind, which Tiridate received with much modesty; I have done nothing, said he, but what I conceived my self obliged to doe, and that little which I did is so inconsiderable in re­spect of your great actions, that it doth not deserve your remembrance; Having so said, he looked on their Armour, which was covered with blood, especially that of the valiant stranger, who had lost much of it in his conflict with Caesarion, and being unwilling to leave them in so ill condition, you are so much woun­ded, said he, that you have need of sudden help, & I can quickly give it you, if you will not refuse a place of re­treat which I offer you about two or three hundred paces off from this place, where your wounds shall be carefully dressed, and you your selves served with much affection; But where is Cleomidon, said he, looking a­bout after Caesarion; he is gone away, replyed the Page to the Prince of Mauritanie (who for that he was not so busied as the rest, had the liberty to observe all that passed during the conflict) and he is gone af­ter two of the company, who caught up and carried away two Ladies, who for a while were beholders of the Combat. What, cryed Tiridate, then those La­dies with whom you found me, when you first came, are taken and carried away? Yes, my Lord, replied Emilius, they were taken and carried away by the Captain of those men that you have defeated. O Gods, replied Tiridate, this loss will be great, if it be [Page 219] not recovered, and it were to be wished, that these valiant Princes were in a better condition, that so they might endeavour to relieve one of the greatest Personages in the world. Let us goe (said the Prince of Mauritanie) in the condition wee are in, our wounds should not hinder us from succouring a per­son of so great a quality as you describe her; you are particularly obliged thereunto, replied Tiridate, and it may be that I know you better than you imagine, yet I should be unwilling to put you to so great a trouble now at this time, and especially that valiant Gentleman, saith he (looking on the brave stranger) who I know to be more wounded than your self. Its true, said the stranger, I am sorely wounded, but yet that shall not hinder me from accompanying you to the Sea-side, for that is as farre as you can pursue them at this time, and its the same Pirat Jenodore, whom I chased a while since that hath without doubt carried away the Lady you speak of, to his ships which were riding at Anchor by this coast, and there­fore I doe conceive that we are to look after them there, and at no other place. Having so said, he ad­vanced the first towards that place, although with much pain, the other Princes followed him; and by reason of their strengths out-rode him, and hastened to the place which he discovered to them, but their labour was in vain, they found no ships neer the shoar, but looking towards the Sea, they discovered two or three sayl which hastened further from them, which they immediatly ghessed to be the ships which they sought after. The brave stranger who was no lesse interessed than Tiridate, and it may be Caesarion, in the pursuit of the Pyrat, sighed two or three times, [Page 220] and looking mournfully on the Prince of Maurita­ny; Hah, said he, I have reason to hate you, and I should hate you, if it were possible for me so to doe, after such an assistance as you have given me, and af­ter so perfect a knowledge of your vertues; O Gods, said he, continuing on his discourse; O Gods, what have I lost this fatall day? and what is this losse that I can by no means recover. Having so said, he was like to have fallen from his horse, by reason of his weak­nesse, had not Tiridate, who suddenly ran unto him, supported him, as also the Prince of Mauritanie who expressed his sorrow for the ill office he had done him, and how much he interested himself in his bad for­tune. During this discourse, Tiridate who conceived that a longer search would be to no purpose, condu­cted them towards his own house, keeping himself alwayes neer the brave stranger who had lost so much blood, and received so many wounds, that he had scarce strength, left him for to keep him in the saddle. They soon arrived at the house of Tiridate, where the servants took the same care for these strangers, as if they had been their own Masters, they were lodged in two severall Chambers (the house being spacious enough to lodge them commodiously) their wounds were immediatly dressed, which were found not to be dangerous, especially those of the Prince of Mauri­tanie, who had onely a thrust in the brawn of his left arm, and a slight touch on his side; but those of the noble stranger were more in number and greater, but the Chirurgion who was Tiridate his servant, and ve­ry expert in his Art, assured them of a perfect cure of them all within a very short time. The stran­ger was not much rejoyced at this promise, and hee [Page 221] seemed to be so deeply afflicted, insomuch that those who attended on him, did more fear the ill conse­quence of his sadness than his wounds. He was no sooner layd in his bed, but he saw a young man come into his Chamber, whom he knew to be his Page, who had sought after him the greatest part of the day, and at the last fortunately came to enquire for newes of him at the same house. The stranger was some­what comforted with the sight of his Page, and cal­ling him to his bed side, he desired all other company to retire. Tiridate had received two slight wounds, one in his right hand, and the other on his head, but they were so small, that he would not keep his bed, but having applied remedies unto them, his chiefest care was to serve his guests for whom he had a won­derfull esteem; towards the Evening he understood that the Prince of Mauritanie was in a condition to receive a visit, and therfore he went into his Chamber, where he was most civilly received by that Prince, and then after many courteous expressions, Tiridate seated himself by his bed side, but before they entred into any other discourse, the Prince of Mauritanie remem­bring what the other had told him awhile before, you told me, said he, that I was better known to you than I imagined; I pray be pleased to doe me the fa­vour to acquaint me what knowledge you have of me, and how you came by it. I understood it, replied Ti­ridate, from some discourse which fell from you, be­fore the comming of that valiant stranger with whom you fought; I heard you speak much of the Princess Cleopatra and Tiberius, so that by what I have heard at Rome concerning you, I presently conceived that you were the Prince of Mauritanie, but although I [Page 222] had had a bare conjecture of it onely, yet the sight of your countenance, together with those noble Actions which I have seen, hath strongly confirmed me in my opinion. The Prince blushed at this discourse, for that he had no intention to discover himself at that time, yet considering how much he was engaged to Tiridate, his displeasure soon vanished; I should be sorry, said he, to be known in this present condition of my affaires, by any body but your self, but I am too much obliged to you, and have too great an opi­nion of your worth for to distrust you. Its true, I am the unfortunat Prince of Mauritanie, whose disaster I suppose you have heard, if you have lived any time at Rome, but since your countenance doth shew you to be somewhat more than your equipage, I pray let me know to whom I am so much indebted, and who it is that I have so much trusted. If I valued my life, I have not lesse cause to conceal my name than your self, but my condition is such at this time, that al­though I had less confidence in you than I have, yet I should not stick to tell you that I am Tiridate, the son of Orodius, and brother of Phraatus King of the Parthes, persecuted by fortune and my friends, and from my infancie enforced to goe a begging from one Court to another for the preservation of my life. At this discourse the Prince of Mauritanie raising him­self up in his bed, and saluting him with more respect than formerly; Your name, said he, is not unknown to me, and since your departure from Rome, I have heard so much concerning you, as doth very well a­gree with the knowledge that I have since had of your person and vertue; I am not at all sorry that I am so much engaged to a Prince of your birth, and am very [Page 223] glad that I have found so much cause of esteeme in a Prince that I much honoured before I knew him. Its you replied Tiridate, that I ought more justly to respect, and the noise of your famous actions hath produced such effects over all the Roman Empire, that wheresover you shall be known, you will undoubtedly find many admirers and adorers of your vertue; The Prince answered him with much modesty and so after they had given each other Protestations of friendship they began to talk of the noble stranger, that was lodged in the adjoyning Chamber, and dis­coursed largely of his good mind and port, his won­derfull boldness, and other notable exploits, which they had seen him performe: They had both of them an equall desire to be acquainted with him, and as they sought for opportunities for that purpose, they espied his Page going towards his Chamber, whom Tiridate called him in, and having made him to come near the Bed, told that they had called him for to enquire some news of his master, and to desire him (if he might so doe without displeasing him) to satisfy the desire they had to know him, for having seen so much by him, you may not think it strange that we desire this from you, but if you please to inform us, we shall account our selves much ob­liged unto you: My Lord replyed the Page, if I had my Master his leave, I should willingly obey you, but for that he hath not as yet revoked the Command which he layed on me, not to discover who he was to any body living, I am enforced much against my will to disobey you; yet I may tell you thus much, that I doe serve as great a man as most are, and as young as he is, if you have not spent your time in very [Page 224] remote Countrys, the rumour of his actions hath been brought to your ears: assoon as he shall know your desire, I doubt not but he will command me to sa­tisfy you, but I pray be not offended with me if I first aske his leave. There is no necessitie for it replied the Prince of Mauritanie, although by what you have said our curiosity is augmented, we were to blame if we should desire of him, that which it may be at this time would trouble him to grant, when it shall come from his own motion, we shall joyfully em­brace it, and in the mean time we will content our selves with the knowledge we have of him, from those many marks of greatness which doe discover themselves in his person, and by that which we have seen him doe in our Company: having so said they dismissed the Page, and a while after Tiridate bid his guest good night, and left him to his repose, and went himself to his own bed, where he found the same rest which he ordinarily had in it.

The end of the fourth book, and the first part of Cleopatra.

CLEOPATRA, The Second part.

The First BOOK.

NEver had Love so large a field for to shew its strength, as at this time in Tyridate his house, whither he with his two illustrious guests were retired; and indeed through­out its whole Empire it could not have found more noble vassalls or fitter subjects to Tyran­nize over. The Princes of Mauritanie and Par­thia, together with the brave stranger, sighed at the same time for three different objects; and as it may be there were none in the world more deserving their sighes, so would it be difficult to finde amongst all mortalls then living, three soules so capable of the impressions of Love. How dark and blinde soever the night was, what rare fires did it see kindled in that poor place of retreat? and had they but had the fa­culty of enlightning as well as inflaming, they would have made it a bright day. The brave stranger having spent much of his spirits by rea­son [Page 2] of his many wounds, seemed in part to allay that passion which his Love and Greif inspir'd into him; Tyridate scarce feeling his, had the li­berty to exercise his thoughts on the condition of his Love and Fortune; and though the Prince of Mauritania was somewhat more wounded, yet he could not refrain from sad thoughts, nor think upon the recovering of the health of his body, whilst his minde was so cruelly tormen­ted: All those things which might renew his displeasures were represented so freshly to his memory, and after that he had fallen into a Dream, with the consideration of all that had hapned to him during the whole course of his life, he began to be much perplexed with grief and dispair, when he considered the ingrati­tude of Cleopatra. Oh what lamentations did he utter that night with his mouth, and what sighes did he powre out of his brest! so that the darkeness suited well with the condition of his spirit, and the blackest shaddowes were dea­rer to him than the most pleasant and brightest light, for he no longer loved the light of the day, when he had lost those fair lights of his hopes, which formerly had so much enlightned his soul, he found some ease in an obscurity conformable to that of his minde, which made him to bury himself wholly in the sadness of his thoughts: And indeed he gave up him­self so much to melancholy, that hee took little or no rest; and the day appeared ere that by resting his body he could give one houres in­tervall to the troubles of his minde. Hee no [Page 3] sooner perceived the light at his chamber win­dow, but saluting it with some sighes, How importunate is this light cryed hee, and how durst thou redouble the displeasures of a misera­ble man which an eternall night should long since have covered over; all the objects which thou representest to my view doe make me call to minde worse thoughts than those of the most cruell death; and I cannot breath in the air, see the sun, or look on the Heavens which are common to me with Cleopatra, without thinking on her change. Oh how much better and glorious had it been for me to have been de­prived of thy light for ever, amidst those occa­sions which thou hast taken to endlighten my glory in the performance of some acts worthy the remembrance, than to preserve it so fatally for to see my self submitted to the injustice of my bad fortune, and for to see it may be the un­gratefull Cleopatra between the Armes of the subtill Tyberius. Between the Armes of Tyberi­us said he presently after; Ah sonne of Juba, banish all thoughts of that kind out of thy minde, and consider a little thy courage which hath never as yet forsaken thee; thou diddest begin thy life with the losse of thy parents and Empires, together with the glory of thy Family, all which thou sawest, as soon as thou wast born, exposed to the ignominie of a Roman Triumph; since that thou hast been encompas­sed with danger and torments, both of body and minde, which had been enough to have destroy­ed an ordinary patience, and thou shalt now [Page 4] end thy dayes in despair, but in such a despair as will not blemish thy reputation, and by which thou shalt not be seen to degenerate nei­ther from thy Roman education nor from thy illustrious birth; If thou must die, as without doubt thou must if thy hopes are dead, thou shalt cause those to fall with thee who have ha­stened thy death, or at least thou shalt follow that example which the King thy father left thee, who sought for that rest from the point of the sword, which he would not looke for else­where, after the loss of his honour, and the fall of his enemie. Hee had without doubt continued on his discourse, had not his servant, who over­heard his sighes and passionate ezpressions, gon to him and asked him how he did: If it be the health of my body you enquire after, say'd he, I am too well, and am much troubled that my body is not in a condition bad enough for to be conformable to the temper of my minde. His servant was about to reply, when as he heard one of the servants of Tyridate knocking at the chamber door, who was sent from his master to enquire after the Prince his helth, and to know if in giving him a visite hee should not incom­mode him. Emilius, by the command of his master, returned him a very civill answer, & pre­sently after he was gone, the Prince Tyridate came into the chamber where the Prince of Mauritane was lodged, and going to his bed side, he bad him good morrow. The Mauritane Prince received Tyridate with great acknow­ledgements and affection, and after their first [Page 5] saluta­tions, having desired him to sit by his beds-side, I should bee extremely obliged unto you said he, for the care that you have taken for my life, if it was not in such a condition that all things are hatefull to me which tend to its pre­servation, and yet nevertheless I am so much engaged to you for your good intention, that I doe freely offer to serve you with that for which you have expressed so much goodness so farre as my love and greif will permit mee. Your life is too glorious, and of too high an esteem replied Tyridate for to neglect any thing that may conduce to its preservation, and I have heard so much of it, that I cannot but highly prize it, and am confident that there are few men living that are not of the same opinion with me, although there are but few (as I con­ceive) that doe know all the particulars of your love to the Princess Cleopatra. I have onely heard that which hath been noyfed abroad throughout the Roman Empire: but I know not enough to satisfie the desire I have to bee particularly informed of your condition, I know not whether you may excuse my curiosi­ty. I can do it, said he, interrupting him; & I am very ready to give you compleat satisfaction to all that you desire, being resolved to hide nothing from you, after the receipt of so many favours and good offices, and the knowledge which I have of your vertue. Its true, you may have heard somewhat of my life which hath been too well known, but its impossible that you should know the most important passages, [Page 6] for that it must be either from my self or E­milius who is acquainted with the whole car­riage of businesses, that you can be informed of them. It shall be then from Emilius, if you so please, that I will receive that satisfaction said Tyridate, as well because I have understood by him that you have slept little this night, and therefore it will bee necessary that you should rest your self some part of this day, as also for that he may give me a more large accompt, and it may bee a truer one, of those actions which you your self out of modesty may seek to abridge or disguise. I have done nothing re­ply'd the Prince, but that which the greatest mo­desty may permit men to relate; but since you will give greater credit to Emilius than my self, I shall be very willing that he should content you, by giving you a true accompt of all the par­ticular accidents of my life, without any reserve. After this leave, Tyridate having thanked the Prince, went out of the chamber, and took with him Emilius, for that hee desired to leave his master at his rest that morning, for to make reparations for his watchings the night be­fore.

But before he would suffer him to enter up­on his intended discourse, he went to visit the brave stranger, for whom he took as great care as for the Prince of Mauritanie, having seen so many markes of greatness in him, that hee could not look upon him but with respect and esteem; but meeting at his chamber door his Chirurgian, who diswaded him from his in­tended [Page 7] visit, by telling him that hee was not in a condition to see any body that morning, and that hee had great hopes of his cure, but one could not speak to him without troubling him, and hindering the operation of his medicines: Upon this Tyridate stay'd, and when he had renewed his orders to his Officers to be carefull in giving attendance, he went in­to his chamber with Emilius, and having cau­sed him to sit down by him; Since you have permission from the Prince your master, said he, I pray make me a large narration of his life, and doe not omit any thing, upon the consideration that I may have heard it elsewhere, for that I have heard nothing but confusedly and upon hearsay. I shall doe as I am appointed by you, said Emilius; and although your goodness and my masters command will engage me in a long discourse, yet for to obey you I shall get out of it as well as I can, having so said, he paused a while for to call to his remembrance the begin­ning of those things which he was to relate, and began his discourse in this manner.

The History of the Prince Coriolan and the Princess Cleopatra.

THere was never any man that did begin his life with so great a cause of sorrow, as my Master, and it may be Fortune never shewed her self so variously during so short a time as hee hath now lived; yet I may safely say that my Master hath gotten nothing by her propitious­ness, [Page 8] but hath rather lost all by her averseness; for before he was born she bereaved him of his Crownes, Parents, and Liberty, and hath since afflicted him with greater displeasures than those losses could occasion, and ât what time soever she hath seemed to favour him, she hath been alwayes inforced thereunto by his vertue; he was born without any Estate, although he was the lawfull and undoubted Heir of two great Kingdomes, and he was born a Vassall, al­though he vvas Son to a free and mighty Prince in Africa; he no sooner beheld the light, but he saw his shame, and he began his life in such a sort, which tò prevent, Cleopatra killed her self, and he had unquestionably imitated her ex­ample, if he had been of an age that might have made him capable of the same understand­ing.

The great King Juba, whose memory is sufficiently famous amongst all men, was the sole Soveraign of the two Mauritanies, and had kept himself in such a condition as made him terrible to all the neighbouring Territories, for that he was the greatest Mo­narch in Africa, had he not ruined himself by joyning with an unfortunate Party, and had not Fortune cast him down upon the approach of him for whom the Empire of the World was reserved; his Dominions were of a large circuit; his Court was stately and magnifi­cent, and the authority which he had gained over his neighbours by reason of his force and strength, made him the absolute Soveraign [Page 9] of that third part of the World- In this glo­rious and peaceable condition he lived and maintained himself, when as after the defeat of the great and unfortunate Pompey, his scattered Troops fled into Africa for shelter, under the command of Scipio and Cato. The King Juba, who either reverenced the memory of that great man, or was jealous of the greatness of Caesar, joyned himself with his enemies, and with his recruits made those scattered Forces a very formidable Army: With this strength they all three opposed the Conqueror of the World, and by that meanes they not onely stopped the course of his Victories, but by reason of many advantages which they gained against him in the beginning of this War, they made every body doubtfull of the success: But at the last fate lead them into the Plain of Thap­son, which is situated near a Town of the same name, where being puffed up with vain sha­dows and hopes of victory, they offered bat­tell to Casar. Truly they might in probabili­ty have hoped for good success, had not the Gods fought for him to whom they had de­signed the Empire of the Universe, insomuch that in despight of all the strength of Africa, they gave him the compleat Victory. The King Juba and his companions lost there for­ty thousand men on the place, and saw them­selves so wholly ruined, that they had no hopes ever to make head again. And indeed they looked for no other deliverance by any other meanes than death, and although they might [Page 10] have expected a better destiny from the cle­mencie of Caesar, yet they chose rather to die, than to expose themselxes to the mercy of the Conqueror. Scipio killed himself with his own sword in the field. Cato, when he saw himself blocked up in Vtica, killed himself in like manner; and although there were some who attempted to save his life notwithstand­ing his wounds, yet he found out a way to deceive them by tearing his bowels. The King of Mauritany retreated with his remaining Troops to one of his neerest Townes, where after some endeavours to encourage his dis­heartned souldiers, and perceiving that he was pursued by the Victorious Army, he prepared himself for death. For this purpose, having made a stately Feast for one Petreius a Roman Captain, who had been of his Party, and was then a companion in his misfortune, at the end of which, looking on Petreius with a countenance which manifested his desire to die, Petreius, said he, let us die whilst we are free men, for if we defer our death any longer, we shall not be able to avoid that shame which our enemies are preparing for us; for a mark of thy affection, I desire nothing but to dye by thy hand, and in the condition whereun­to I am now reduced, I cannot demand a greater or dearer assurance of it: Pierce this breast, said he, shewing him his bare stomack, and strike this heart which hath so unfortu­nately preserved its self against the Roman force, and let that King fall by thy friendly [Page 11] hand, whose courage all the strength that the Romanists can make, cannot allay. He accompa­nied this discourse with so many passionate and pressing expressions, that Petreius could by no meanes denie him that which hee desired from him; but ran him through with his sword, the King looking earnestly upon him, without committing any act beneath that greatness of his courage; Petreius having seen him give up the Ghost, turned the point of the same sword to his own breast, and falling on it with the might of his body soon expired at his feet; thus in the conclusion of the feast was the bloud Royall powred out, and this was the destiny of that great King, who was of so noble and generous a humour for to prefer an untimely death be­fore an ignominous life. Within few dayes after Caesar gained the full possession of his two Kingdomes, and seized on the person of the Queen his Spouse, whom hee designed for one of the principall ornaments of his triumph: she had been with child some months before the King her husband died, and was delivered of the Prince my master within two dayes after her ar­rivall at Rome, whether she was sent above six weekes before Caesar came thither: After this sort was my Prince born a slave, although hee was a free man long after his conception, and it was between his conception and birth, that the great revolution of his fortune hap­pened; within few dayes after his birth he served as a remarkable ornament of Caesar his triumph, happy he was in his misfortune, for [Page 12] that he was not sensible of the shame which hee suffered. His Mother did not long survive the infamy which she underwent, yet he wanted not friends to take care for his breeding and educa­cation, for Caesar himself being touched with compassion for the destiny of his Father and Mother, gave order that he should be bred up at Rome in the quality of the son of a King, and took so particular a care for him, that hee could have scarse expected a better education if his friends had continued in their wonted greatnes and prosperity: I may ad further, and that tru­ly, that the loss of his Dominions was in part repaired with the good entertainement he met with at Rome: during his childhood Caesar cau­sed him to be brought often times unto him, and observing with his beauty so much of Majesty, he had so great an affection for him, that he de­clared openly, that if the little Juba (for that name they gave him at his bith) did answer those hopes which he had of him, he would re­store him his Fathers Crowns and possessions; he was very carefull to breed him up in the Roman inclinations, and indevored to wipe off all that savageness which his African blood might prompt him to, and the betrer to strengthen his affections to the Republick, he caused him to be called by a Roman name; and because he was brought up amongst the Family of the Martius, which were illustrious Patricii, from which that famous Coriolan, so much renown­ed for his valour, formerly descended, he or­dered that this Prince should be called by the [Page 13] same name, and by this means covered the name of Juba, which seemed somewhat bar­barous, and savoured of disaffection to the Republick: And indeed the affection and goodness of the great Dictator had not been bounded here, if he had not lost that Prote­ctor, or indeed, Father, before he attained to his fourth year, at which time he could onely fancie great hopes of him. But the greatest man that ever lived was murthered in the Se­nate, even by those who had shared of his boun­ty, and all the World became interessed in the loss of him, who had gotten to be its Master with the edge of his sword, yet held it in a sweet and peaceable subjection.

After the death of Caesar, the young Corio­lan (for so he hath been always called) want­ed not for protection; for the Senate succeed­ing in the goodness of Caesar, took speciall care for his education, and he had the same care taken for him as was had for divers other Princes that were Friends and Allyes; many young Gentlemen of quality in Rome were appointed to attend on him, and I my self was one of those who were imployed neerest his person, and one whom he hath particu­larly honoured with his affection. During all the cruel distractions of my Country, and that bloudy Civil War which vvas undertaken for the revenge of Caesar, and during those pro­digious effects of that horrible Triumvirat, vvhich made the streets of our City to run vvith the bloud of its Citizens, and those remarka­ble [Page 14] disputes vvhich happened betvveen M. An­tony, and Octavius Caesar, the young Prince grevv up at Rome, even to the admiration of every body. There vvas never any young man that handled his Armes vvith such a grace as himself. There vvas never any one heard of, vvho attained such a perfection in all sorts of exercises in so short a time; he had so great an inclination to the Sciences, that there are fevv men novv to be found vvho have greater knovvledge, either of the motions of the Stars, or any other kinde of Philosophy; even that fa­mous Oratour, vvho by the cruel command of M. Antony lost his life in the heat of the Trium­virat, did scarce excell him in Eloquence. The endovvments of his body equalled those of his minde, and those ancient Patricians vvho found so many patterns of vertue in the Roman Di­scipline, had heard nothing famous of the Fa­bricii, Camilli, or Scipios, which to their great astonishment they did not see appear in the acti­ons of Coriolan. Besides his naturall propensi­on to great things, he alvvays shevved a horrour for oppression and injustice, and they could not discover in him more contempt of dangers, or more love to glory and honour, than com­passion for the misfortunes of any body, and readiness to quit his own particular interest for the ease of those vvho vvere in misery. I have heard him many a time (although he was not above 12. or 13. years old) earnestly de­sire those vvho had the tuition of him, to con­duct him into that famous vvar that vvas then [Page 15] carriied on by those tvvo Masters of the Em­pire, the unfortunate Antony, and Octavius Cae­sar, since called Augustus: He vvould vex and grieve vvhen he heard of any famous exploit, for that he had not been personally present at it. Those reall marks of greatness gained him the heart of Augustus as vvell as of every body besides, so that if his first inclinations for him had not been traversed vvith other interests, and some other accidents vvhich happened af­tervvards, he could not have expected less fa­vour or protection from him, than from the great Julius his Predecessor.

The intentions of the Emperor vvere favour­ed by all the Nobility of Rome, and the excel­lent inclinations of this young Prince, his svveet, noble, and obliging disposition, even to the hazard of his neerest interests, his affable conversation & behaviour, together with those other advantages vvhich he had by his good mind and gracefull deportment in all his acti­ons, made every vertuous man to love and respect him. In all their publick meetings and shevvs, he so demeaned himself, that even the Senate, as vvell as all the spectators besides, ad­mired him; and vvhen he vvas not above 14. years old he alvvays vvon the prizes at all sorts of exercises. He vvas about 18. years of age vvhen Caesar came in Triumph to Rome after the deplorable defeat given to M. Antony and Cle­opatra. by means of vvhich he remained the sole Master of the Universe. It vvas upon that occasion that my Prince appeared in admirable [Page 16] glory amongst others who went forth to meet the Emperour: All those who then saw him in a suit of cloaths, which with its richness did in some measure set off the advantages of his naturall beauty, mounted on a proud Horse, which he managed with a wonderfull grace and address, and in the head of a Troop of young Gentlemen about his age, declared open­ly, that he was not only vvorthy to command them, but that he would one day merit a greater fortune than his Fathers Dominions; and the Emperour himself, notwithstanding the glo­rious condition that he then was in, as soon as he saw him, made a stop for to imbrace him, and spake more in his commendation than the modesty of the Prince could suffer him to hear. This was one of the most magnificent Triumphs that ever Rome saw, and all the pomp in the World seemed to be put together to compleat the glory of one man; however I vvill not trouble you vvith a particular descrip­tion of it, because I knovv you have heard suffi­ciently of it elsevvhere, but shal only tel you, that the greatest beauty of it appeared the third day: The 2. first days Caesar triumphed for divers Vi­ctories obtained over several barbarous Nations, and for the battel of Actium, but the last day was for Egypt and Cleopatra. I shall speak nothing of the incredible riches, or the prodigious number of Captives vvith vvhich it vvas in part made up, for my eyes, as vvell as of e­very body besides, vvere most fixed on a state­ly Chariot, vvhere vvas placed the Image [Page 17] of Cleopatra pictured to the life; She vvas re­presented in the same posture as she vvas in vvhen she died, vvhich vvas holding out her Arm to an Asp, and dying vvith his mortal stinging: The countenance of the Queen vvas full of Majesty, and that sad spectacle drevv tears of compassion from the eyes of all the company: But as the sight of that Image mo­ved every body to pity, so the children of Anthony and Cleopatra, vvhich vvere living, and sate at the feet of the Effigies of their Mo­ther, did not produce less effects: The young Alexander, and the Princess Cleopatra his Si­ster, vvho vvere about 10. years old, sate to­gether, and one step higher sate their Brother Ptolomy, vvho vvas one year younger. There vvas never seen any thing more beautifull than those illustrious Captives. All the people of Rome had their eys fixed on them, and they themselves vvere not so young but they vvere sensible of their condition, and manifested it sufficiently by their countenances. Alexander and Cleopatra vvere attired in the same habits of Apollo and Diana, vvhich Antony out of a foolish vanity had caused them to vvear; and if the condition they vvere then in had not de­stroyed the belief, every body had taken them in that dress for those Deities vvhich they re­presented; those Rays vvherevvith the head of the little Cleopatra vvas invironed, seemed ra­ther to come from her eys, than any other out­vvard adornment; and if shame and modesty had not made her to look for the most part on [Page 18] the ground, she vvould have cast out more fair lightnings than those of that Goddess vvhose shape she had taken. M. Antony vvas a beau­tifull Prince, and therefore it could not be othervvise expected but that the children vvhich he had on the fair Cleopatra, must be exceed­ingly vvell formed. The Princess resembled them both, but far surpassed either of them: She had a mouth and countenance much like her Mother, but a more fair and delicate com­plexion; her eys vvere blue, yet full of svveet­ness and Majesty; her hair vvas much vvhiter than her Mothers, and yet blacker than her Fathers. It vvas then difficult to judge of her neck or stature; but since, vve have seen both so vvell formed, that one cannot desire or i­magine any thing more accomplished. I should have spoken more of her if you had not seen her so often that you needed not to have heard that poor description that I have made of her. Oh vvhat vvonders did my Prince find in this sight! Hovv vvas he avvake­ned out of the melancholy vvhich the thoughts of the destiny of his Predecessors had cast him into! He had not much regarded the pomp of the tvvo first days, and he did not much look after the gold and riches of this third day, but he could not behold the Image of the Queen Cleopatra vvithout shedding many a compassi­onate tear, accompanied vvith divers sighs, vvhich the conformity of her condition vvith that of his ovvn Family, drevv from his heart; vvhen he beheld the young Princess in the same [Page 19] condition as by report he had heard he had been in himself during his infancy, he could not refrain from pitying them; from thence he took an occasion to observe and admire their beauties, and so by degres he came to be overvvhelmed vvith that passion to vvhich he hath ever since given himself up. I being then very neer him, according to my custom, he turned tovvards me; vvhat do I see Emili­us, said he, hath nature ever formed any thing like that young Princess? and she vvho is this day led in triumph, ought she not one day to triumph her self over the most precious li­berties? O Fortune, said he a vvhile after, hovv thou dost play vvith the destiny of Princes, and vvhat illustrious companions hast thou this day given me? Whilst he spake in this sort, he looked more earnestly on that Object, vvhich took up all his thoughts. In this posture he kept himself on Horse-back by the Chariot, and stirred not thence during the whole Cere­mony. The Prince was not then in an age capable of strong or violent impressions, and the Princess was younger than himself by 4. or 5. years, and therefore had not then attained to that perfection of beauty, which since hath made so many Vassals; yet the spirits of Coriolan yeilded before they could be susceptible of any great passion; and the beauty of Cleopatra did did not stay for age before it began to produce those effects which afterwards were very usual and ordinary. The young Prince was in a short time become pensive, would often sigh, and [Page 20] love solitariness, and for that he used no dili­gence to hide any thing from me, I soon per­ceived (although I was not much older than himself) what it was that troubled him. E­milius, said he unto me a few days after the Triumph, was there ever seen any thing more beautifull than the young Princess Cleopatra, or rather can the imagination of any man con­ceive any thing like her? It's true, answered I, that the Princess is beautifull. She is beauti­full, said he, somewhat in anger; rather say that every thing is ugly in comparison of her, and the Gods have contributed all their pow­er and skill for to make her the most admira­ble piece that ever passed through their hands. Oh how fortunate will that man be to whom the Heavens will give the glory to adore her, to expose his life at her feet, and spend it whol­ly in occasions to serve her. It may be it shall be your self, said I; for I see such a disposition in you, that I cannot but expect from you part of that which you seem to desire. You need not doubt, replyed the Prince, but that I am resolved to dedicate my self wholly to her ser­vice, and to abandon all other thoughts and considerations for those that may make me to merit her approval of my design not to live but for her. My Lord, replied I, you should not so rashly resolve on a business of so great consequence, for in the condition you are now in, you should rather think on those alliances that may restore you to your former fortune and greatness, and in a matter of so great im­portance, [Page 21] you ought to indeavour to gain the approbation of Caesar, and the Senate, since its on them that your destiny depends. The Prince looked somewhat scurvily upon me for this discourse. I did not think, said he, that thou hadst such low thoughts, or that thou wouldst advise me to offer violence to such noble in­clinations, upon any consideration of Fortune; for if in the service of Cleopatra I cannot pre­tend to those Crowns that Fortune hath taken from her, I shall partake of that glory over which that inconstant Goddess hath no power, and my thoughts cannot aspire higher than to the daughter of Antony and Cleopatra, who were the Masters of so many Kings, and were reputed in their time the greatest Monarchs in the World; neither Caesar nor the Senate can justly disapprove of my design; and although they should deny me their profection upon this account, yet if I have any vertue or courage, the Gods will not forsake me, and I may per­chance obtain that with my swords point, which I might hope to gain by their assistance. These were the first thoughts of the young Prince; and if in so tender an age he took up such strong and firm resolutions, sure I am, that time did so well fortifie him therein, that a­ny consideration in the World was not capable to divert him.

In the mean time the children of Antony and Cleopatra were brought up at Rome, rather ac­cording to the greatness of their birth, than the present condition of their Fortune, and the [Page 22] Princess Octavia, Sister to Augustus and M. Antony's Widow, whom he forsook to marry with Cleopatra, instead of remembring the in­dignity that he had offred her, was so no­ble and generous, that She took home the children into her own house, and was as carefull of them, as if they had been her own, and put no difference between them and her two Daugh­ters which she had by M. Antony, or her Son Marcellus, whom she had by her first Husband, of the same name. I know you have seen this young Marcellus, who was the darling and delight of Rome, during your sojourn there. The Emperour liked well his Sisters good­ness, and publickly expressed the esteem that he had for her for so doing. The Empress Livia her self, for to second the good inten­tions of the Emperour, took home the Prin­cess Cleopatra, and bred her up with great care and tenderness in the Emperial Pallace, and the other two young Princes continued with the vertuous Octavia. During this time, the passion of our young Prince augmented e­very day, and as he was naturally hardy, so he attempted and performed every thing with an excellent grace; he had neither power, nor a desire to dissemble it long, and by this time he had seen and entertained the Princess seve­rall times, and finding with her rare beauty a wonderfull liveliness of spirit, and such a solidity of judgement, which was not usually seen in persons of her age, together with a charming sweetness in her discourse, he gave [Page 23] up himself wholly to love her. He declared nothing to her during the time that she lived with Octavia, although by reason of her ten­der age he might have adventured very far; but after that she was removed to the Pallace, and his opportunities were loss, he hazarded himself more. He meeting her one evening in the Empresses chamber, where the Empe­rour, and some of the chiefest of the Court were present, after that he had aboarded her with a grace, and gallantry which was peculiar to himself, Fair Princess, said he aloud, our de­stinies are alike, and I would to God that our thoughts were the same, and that you had as much favour for the design that I have to give up my self wholly to you, as I have passion to adore you as long as I live. These words were spoken with such a pleasing boldness, that every one that heard them, admired at them. The young Princess not knowing at that present how to receive them, and yet be­ing not so innocent but that she well under­stood the force of them, blushed, and remain­ed silent without offering to reply. But the Empress, who over-heard them, repeated them aloud to the Emperour, who seemed so much to approve of what was spoken, that the bold­ness of the Prince was thereby much increased. After this, every one began to talk about the Court, that there could not possibly be a fit­ter match then the Son of Juba with the daugh­ter of Cleopatra: The hopes which every one had of them were alike, that their Birth and [Page 24] Fortune was not different; and that the beauty and excellent qualities of the young Cleopatra could not be equalled but with the good mind and naturall parts of the young Coriolan.

These discourses which were in a short time spread about the whole Towre, did much fa­vour the Prince in the beginning of his passion; for undertaking it with a universall consent, he promised to himself a better success, than he could at the first hope for: whereupon he gave up himself openly to her service, and making use of those advantages for to discourse freely of his love, and make impressions on her spi­rits by reason of her tender yeares, which in a riper age he could not have so easily performed, he accustomed her to hear the assurances of his own affections, although he received none from her, and prevailed so far that she valued and prized his company before all others whatsoe­ver; the merit alone of the Prince had bin enough to produce such an effect; but to those advantages he joyned not onely an extraordi­nary diligence, but a great respect and comply­ing behaviour; he foresaw that his condition would alter as the Princess grew older; and for this cause he resolved to make the best use of his time, and to prepossess her mind that he might remove those difficulties whilst he had the opportunity, and weaken that Enemy which he knew he should one day encounter withall: such providence and circumspection is not ordinary for persons about sixteen yeares of age; but at that time my Prince understood [Page 25] himself as well as most of the wisest sort of men; and all those who observed his carriage, gave strange judgements concerning him: during this time he laboured to divert and please her with a thousand feates of gallantry; for having an active and inventive spirit, and a body well fra­med for all kindes of exercises, he made matches every day with the young gallants of Rome for to run races on horseback, to manage combats and many other pleasant pastimes which are or­dinarily seen in the Circle, in all which the young Prince made himself to be admired by all the Spectators, and won insensibly the hearts of every body: But he was not the onely man in this design of serving the Princess, who as young as she was had gotten admirers amongst the most illustrious Romans; two young Princes about my Master's age, had their eyes on her, and in regard of their quality, fortune could not have raised him up more redourable Rivals: Their names were, Marcellus and Tyberius, the first was as I told you, the Sonne of the vertu­ous Octavia, wife of M. Antony and the Sister of Augustus, and Marcellus her former husband whose widdow she was when Antony married her; the other was the Sonne of the Empress Li­via, by her former husband Drusus; they were bred both the one and the other with the same favours and hopes, although their inclinations were much different. Marcellus was of a sweet, free, and generous disposition, of a noble cou­rage, which ever carried him on to great things; for his person, he was very comly and lovely; [Page 26] Tyberius had a hansom body and a courage tru­ly great, but was of an artificial and malici­ous disposition, and as young as he was, he was observed to have as great art in dissem­bling as any of the cunning old Courtiers; my Master was obliged to Marcellus in a strait bond of friendship, and the Sympathy of their spirits and conformity of their inclinations made them to love each other with an intire affection; but he lived far otherwise with Ty­berius, and contented himself with considering him as the Sonne in Law of the Emperor, with­out linking himself to him in affection: my Master openly discovered his passion for Cleo­patra; but Tyberius, managed his design with as much privacy as was possible, and carried it so subtilly, that for a long time no body could discover his design. It hapned that the young Cleopatra went one day to walk in the stately garden by the Pallace, acompanied with the Princess Juba the Emperor's daughter, who was about the same age with her; a beautifull Princess she was indeed, and had a very lively and active spirit. The Emperor had designed her for the young Marcellus his Nephew, the bet­ter to strengthen the alliance between their Fa­milies, and to confirm the people of Rome in their hopes of making him his heir: The two Princesses had not long walked in an Alley near the River Tyber, but they espied my Mast­er and Marcellus that had sought after them and vvere coming towards them: Although Marcellus did not much dissemble his love to [Page 27] Cleopatra, yet the knowledge he had of the Em­peror his intention made him in publique to respect and wait on Julia, although at that time he had no inclination to love her: he thought himself obliged to make his addresses to her; and the Prince of Mauritany was much pleased therewith in hopes of enjoying Cleopatra's com­pany more freely. The fair Princess, who had as great a respect for him, as was possble for a Lady of her age, received him courteously and joyfully, and giving him her hand they vvalk; ed at a little distance from Marcellus and Julia she vvas not at that time above tvvelve yeares of age, and my Master vvas much about sixteen, but I may truly say of them both that they sur­passed their yeares in knovvledge; my Prince entertained her a vvhile vvith ordinary dis­course vvithout mentioning any thing of his love: untill observing the carriage of Marcellus and Julia, I vvould to God, my Princess said he, that I vvas as precious in your esteem as Marcellus is in Julia's. I doe not vvell knovv vvhat it is that you desire of mee, replyed she readily; but I do believe that the Lady Julia hath not a greater esteem of Marcellus than I have of your self. This is such an effect of my good fortune, replyed the Prince, as I could not rea­sonably hope for, and I should be very unjust, if I should not remain abundantly satisfied vvith this noble Declaration; but yet if you vvould give me leave to speak clearly and plainly I should let you knovv that this esteem onely is not enough to make me happy. I did [Page 28] think, replied the Princess, that I had spo­ken enough to satisfie you, and that I could not acknowledge the esteem that I have for you, without letting you know the value which I put upon your person, and excellent qualities I may very well boast of my condition, added the Prince: yet give me leave to tell you, that all this is not enough for to establish the rest of that soul that is wholly yours, and doth desire from you more particular expressions; for if the Gods have endowed me with good qualities, I may gain the esteem of all the peo­ple in Rome, and yet they may wish me never the better. I might, it may be, make my self to be esteemed by strangers in Countries far di­stant, by reason of some famous exploit. I may add further, that its possible for one to e­steem and respect his enemies without any change of their inclinations; for Hannibal was as much esteemed at Rome, as he was at Carthage, and yet he was mortally hated there; and the Faction of great Pompey, had in great esteem Julius Caesar, and accounted him the greatest of men, although he was their greatest Enemy: You would infer thence, reply'd the Princess▪ that one may have an esteem of you, and yet not love you: That is my opinion, replied Co­riolan, although I cannot deny but that an e­steem is of great advantage for those who de­sire to be beloved; and that love never creeps into a wel-framed disposition, but that esteem doth go before, and make way for it; and therefore I will take this esteem with which [Page 29] you pay my ardent affections, for a beginning and basis of a greater fortune, and I shall ex­pect from time, my services, and your good­ness, that which in truth I have not as yet merited. I have no repugnancie, replied the Princess, to receive your services, and I know no body, whose actions and conversation I do more prize than your own. I vvere much too blame, said the Prince vvith an action full of acknovvledgment and respect, if I should desire more of you; I shall onely intreat thus much from your goodness, that time (which shall have no power over me to make me change the design which I have to adore you so long as I live) may not efface those favourable im­pressions; and that the knowledge, vvhich in a fuller age you may have of your admirable beauty, may not make you to look disdainful­ly on him vvhom you have deemed vvorthy of so many favours; or that more advantagious re-encounters for your advancement, may not make you to prefer persons more fortunate, or more supported by those vvhom Fortune hath made our Masters, before those vvho are dis­poiled of their Crovvns dignities, like to your self. Cleopatra, as young and childish as she vvas, vvas much touched at this discourse, and looking vvith a pleasant countenance upon my Master, she returned an ansvver far exceeding her age. If bad Fortune, and the loss of King­doms should render persons contemptible, the children of Antony and Cleopatra should deserve little respect or consideration amongst men; the [Page 31] fall of your House and Family is little differ­ent from mine; and although I did enjoy my vvonted dignity; yet neither age, nor the knovv­ledge of it, which you so much fear, should hinder me from seeing that in you, which For­tune could not bereave you of, and that vvhich the support and favour of our Masters cannot be­stow on those who (as you pretend) are your Superiours. The Prince heard this discourse from the young Princess, (which indeed he could not expect from a person of her years) with admiration and transport; and being not able to master his passion, although there were some who observed his actions, kneeling on his knee, he fastned his mouth with a kind of violence to the hand of the Princess Cleopa­tra; The Gods are my Witnesses, said he, that I do confess my self wholly unworthy of those favours which I do receive from my Di­vine Princess; but I protest unto her in their presence, that I will endeavour to merit them, as well by considerable services, as such acti­ons which may repair the misfortunes of my Family, or hinder my Princess from repent­ing that she hath been so gracious and boun­tifull unto me. He had said more, had not Marcellus, who loved more the company of Cleopatra than Julia, obliged the princess to expect his company, and so to walk toge­ther. If my prince had not really loved Mar­cellus, he might have born him some spleen for that action; but this consideration, joyned with the satisfaction of his mind, made him [Page 30] at that time to dissemble the displeasure which he had received by reason of that interrupti­on, and accost the princess Julia with such a countenance as discovered no alteration. Af­ter that time he took many occasions to con­firm the princess in the knowledge which he gave her of his passion, and his hopes were very well satisfied by a thousand marks of her innocent affection. These beginnings were very fortunate, and yet he met with some traverses, by reason of the concurrence of Mar­cellus, which indeed was the cause of great displeasure in my prince. Marcellus was, as I have told you, very lovely of person, and came not much behind the prince in all other good qualities, and had an advantage over him by reason of the Emperours support and good opinion with the people of Rome, whose delight he was: His good mind, and excel­lent parts, together with his discreet beha­viour towards Cleopatra, did much eclipse the glory of Coriolan; and besides, Marcellus, for that he was the Son of Octavia, the Relict of M. Antony, had the opportunity to live and converse with her, with as much freedom as if she had been his own Sister; and indeed they always called each other by the name of Brother and Sister, by the command of Octa­via, and the approbation of Caesar, by which means he had an advantage above all Rivals, and enjoyed that liberty which others were debarred of; but that which troubled him most, was, that Marcellus, who was his redoutable [Page 32] Rival, was also his most dear and intimate friend: insomuch that all these obstacles and feares were so far from alienating his affection from him, that it was not without regret that he was enforced to desire that from Cleopatra, because that by which having obtained, he should prejudice his nearest Friend. This re­flexion made a great impression on the Prince his spirits, and I shall tell you what effects it wrought on Marcellus, whose thoughts (for I must needs give that testimony to truth) were altogether as Noble as my Masters. By many markes these two Princes knew the displeasure which they gave each other, by rea­son of their concurrent affection; yet they con­tinued very great friends, and amidst all their addresses to Cleopatra, they never spake one word to the prejudice of each other; my Mast­er, according to our judgement upon outward appearances, was in greater favour than his Ri­val; and he had been very joyfull for his ad­vantage, had it not been against Marcellus, and if he could have been delighted with those groundes of satisfaction which tended to the damage of his Friend: but as Coriolan did moderate the resentments which he had for his good fortune, with the disturbance which they gave to Marcellus: so did Marcellus patiently undergoe this disadvantage, for that it tended to the welfare of Coriolan; and he could not afflict himself with the consideration of his own misfortune without consolating himself vvith the thoughts of his Friendes advantage: [Page 33] Coriolan vvould say to Cleopatra, I doe not de­sire that you should disesteem Marcellus, he is worthy of your affections if any man in the World could merit them: but if they are de­signed for any mortall living, I hope that Cori­olan shall have the full enjoyment of them. Marcellus talked after the same manner, but he declared not his passion so openly as my Mast­er, and the fear which he had to displease his Uncle the Emperor, who intended to honor him so far as to marry his Daughter unto him, made him to dissemble his thoughts, and to disguise those which he discovered with the pretext of that fraternall love which Octavius had com­manded. In this sort he passed away a whole yeare, during which time my Prince, who was without doubt more deeply in love than Mar­cellus, shewed his grief for this concurrence of his Friend, by the sadness of his countenance, yet he concealed the cause to every body but my self, to whom he alwaies communicated his greatest secrets: Why, said he once unto me, hath my bad fortune raised me up a rivall who is the best of my Friends? and such a Friend whose contentment I cannot undermine with­out destroying my own? I would to God that any body but Marcellus did aspire to love Cle­opatra, our swords should then suddenly decide our controversie, and I should easily van­quish any one but him in so just a quarrell. At the last his sadness grew to be so great, that Marcellus, who was the first that dfscovered it began to be exceedingly troubled therevvith, [Page 34] Sympathizing in the displeasures of his dearest Friend, he oftentimes asked him vvhat vvas the reall reason of it, although he suspect­ed in part the truth; but Coriolan for a long time dissembled the true ground of it, and gave him such reasons as vvere no vvay satis­factory to a man so judicious as Marcellus. At the last he vvas enforced to open his mind unto him, and one night as they lay in bed together (which oftentimes hapned) Marcellus having pressed him earnestly on that subject, and protested un­to him that he could not be capable of any satis­faction so long as he savv him so melancholy, & vvas ignorant of the cause of it, the Prince after a deep sigh told him; Brother said he (for so they usually called each other) the Gods are my vvit­nesses, that it's the amity vvhich is betvveen us vvhich makes me to declare that to you, vvhich I had resolved to hide from you as long as I live, and it's that vvhich you might have easily conjectured vvithout constraining me to make you so unpleasing a discourse. Could you be­lieve that I can see my self traversed in a passi­on whereon my vvhole life depends, by a Friend vvho is as dear unto me as my ovvn self, vvithout a mortall displeasure? and you might well judge that I could not disturb your con­tentment without a very sensible grief, or neglect the care of my own repose without a cruell violence. I had lost my self for the love of Cleopatra, ere that you did cast your eyes to­wards her, and if I had been prevented in the design which I have to serve her by my dear [Page 35] Marcellus, I would sooner have died than inva­ded his pretensions, or made him to suffer those torments which I have undergone by his means. But as soon as I perceived that you were my Rivall, I was so far engaged, that I could by no means discharge that duty which I owed to our friendship, as indeed you on your part have, in my opinion, failed in the discharge thereof. I would to God that this concurren­cie of ours had been for Crowns, or Empires, or somewhat more precious, you should soon see me forsake them for you; but for Cleopa­tra, dear Brother, I have not been able to pre­vail so far on my subjected spirits; my bad fortune hath cast them into such an Abysm, that it's impossible for me to draw them out a­gain; I say my bad fortune, for how much glory soever I find in the service of Cleopatra, and whatsoever happy success of my passion I may hope for, yet it cannot be good I am sure, when it is built on the ruin of your re­pose. Coriolan used many other pressing ex­pressions to the same purpose, and Marcellus was so much touched therewith, that he was disabled for a long time to return any an­swer, at the last he strugled hard with him­self, and imbracing him most affectionately, Dear Brother, said he, I call the Heavens to witness, that when I first pitched my thoughts on Cleopatra, I did believe that our tender years would not have been capable of any formed design to serve her, and I must confess, that I have suffered my self to be drawn along by that [Page 36] commanding power which she hath over mens spirits, which I believe no body can easily op­pose: And I must also confess, that I have trespassed against our friendship, and I should make my self unworthy of the affection which we profess, if I should not endeavour to make you due reparation: I know well the reality of my intentions, it's my power that I only doubt, but for to try it, I desire onely this night, and before we part to morrow morning, I shall let you know the value that I put on our mutaul amity. Coriolan would willingly have replied, but Marcellus opposed it, and pressed him so much, that he was inforced to give him that nights respit without any further interrupti­on: They passed it over both of them with­out much sleep, and my Master heard Marcel­lus often sighing, but in such a sort, as if he indeavoured that my Master should not take any notice of it. A little before their usual hour of rising, Marcellus turned himself nimbly to­wards the Prince, and in a very pleasant and resolved tone, told him; Brother, said he, I have long contested, but at the last I have pre­vailed for your advantage, or rather my own, because by this victory I may possibly in part repair the injury that I had offered you: I do quit you Cleopatra, and do earnestly desire your pardon, for that I have so long unjustly disputed with you for her; our friendship, and reason joyned with it, hath banished all former thoughts, and whatsoever yet remains on my spirits, will with a little time and absence, [Page 37] (which I conceive necessary for my compleat cure) vanish. I am now grown up to an age which will call me to the exercise of my An­cestors, and it must be by my svvord that I must acquire some reputation: I am resolved to procure the Emperours leave to accompa­ny the Consul Vinicius, vvho is shortly to go with a povverfull Army into Germany, this de­sign I look on as my best remedy; my absence, together with the various imployments which I shall have, and the firm resolution that I have taken up, to consider the honour vvhich I have received from the Emperour, and to bend all my thoughts tovvards the Princess Ju­lia, vvho already honoureth me vvith more affection than I do deserve, vvill assuredly ac­complish my desires. I vvill assure you, that at my return you shall find me wholly chan­ged, and am resolved to preserve no other thought for Cleopatra, than to honour her as a Princess worthy of my Friends affection, and to confirm and serve her in any design which she shall have in your favour, against all per­sons whatsoever who shall have any other pre­tensions.

Marcellus having so said, left my Prince so ravished with his freeness and generosity, that for a long time he was disabled to ex­press the sence which he had of it. At the last he opened his mouth, but it was to con­tend with the intention of Marcellus, and not to thank him for it; he would not seem less noble than himself, in endeavouring to offer [Page 38] violence to his own inclinations, that so he might favour his Friend; whereupon grew so wonderfull a contest and dispute, which lasted a great part of the day; and indeed it was so long, that I shall not spend time in relating the particulars of it: But at the last, Marcellus, whose passion in truth was not so great as my Princes, but was one who entertained the de­sign to serve Cleopatra, long after him, remain­ed Conquerour, and my Prince was content that he should turn his thoughts wholly to Julia, according to the desire of the Emperor, and all the people of Rome: But he could not resolve to suffer him to undertake the German expedition without his company; and besides the consideration of their friendship, his desire of glory did much encourage him to that en­terprise, he resolved therefore to take up Arms with him under Vinicius, and prepared him­self for that absence, with some hopes which did in part sweeten the displeasures which he had to leave the company of Cleopatra.

There were some Provinces in Germany that had revolted at that time, and cut in pieces the Roman Souldiers that were then in Garri­son, and had raised two mighty Armies neer the River Danube, which much terrified the neighbouring Provinces; and being fleshed with some good success, they began to threaten the power of the Empire. Caesar resolved to send Vinicius, who was a grave and experienced Souldier, with some of the best of his Legions, and he was ready to undertake that Expedition [Page 39] when the two young Princes resolved to ask the Emperour leave to go and gain their first reputation in this important service.

You know well that it hath been the cu­stome amongst the Romans, and all those Fa­mous Captains of whom there hath been so much talk, to go and serve under some expe­rienced Commander, during their youth, to be instructed in Warlike Discipline, without any command. The two young Princes standing firm in their resolutions, did cast themselves at the Emperours feet, and represented to him that they had attained to the seventeenth year of their Ages, and that they had strength and courage sufficient to support the inconvenien­ces of the War; and that it was now high time that they should begin to make themselves worthy of his Affection, and the Glory of their Ancestors, and suddenly obtained of the Emperour (whose generous Spirit could not disapprove of their resolution) all that they desired from him: Whereupon they presently went to set all things in order for their jour­ney; but my Masters greatest work was to prepare himself to leave Cleopatra; his passion was by this time augmented to a very great height, and the Princess continued her respect to him, although she kept her self at a greater distance, and debarred him of much of the free­dome which she suffered during her youth; which the Prince foreseeing, prepared himself to support it with patience, and in all his acti­ons shewed so great respect and submission to [Page 40] her, that he could not lose any impression which he had made on her spirits: He could not quit her company without much discon­tent, and had he not been encouraged by that earnest desire of glory which carried him over the grief which he had to depart from that which he best loved, he could not have hindred the discovery of his displeasure on his counte­nance, but when the day for their departure came, he made use of all his constancy to bid adieu to his Princess; but he was not a little satisfied when he perceived by many markes that the Princess was much troubled at his de­parture, and feared lest he should precipitate himself into some danger: I have too much to tell you for to insist upon all the discourse which passed between them at this separation, and therefore it shall suffice that I tell you, that my Prince after near protestations of his eter­nall faithfullness, received promises from her fair mouth, that she would preserve him in her memory, and assurances that his absence should not make her alter her intention to prefer him before all men whatsoever.

But Marcellus his discourse was very re­markable, for after that he had protested at the Feet of Cleopatra, that in favour of his Friend he had dispoyled himself of all those pretensi­ons which his love and services might give him; he spake so much in my Princes commen­dation, yet notwithstanding it was nothing but truth that he spake, yet such expressions could not fall from any one but a reall and [Page 41] cordiall Friend; but the sweetest comfort which my Prince received at his departure, was the permission which he obtained, with the leave of Octavia and the Empress, to write unto the Princess.

I will hold you no longer, the Princes went from Rome with a very stately Equipage, and I waited on my Master in that expedition as I have ever since done in all others; they went out of Italy with Vinicius, and having met the Troopes who expected their coming, they made long marches untill they came to the Ri­ver Danube. I ought not to spend much time in relating all the particular passages of this voy­age, but must sleightly mention and pass over the youthfull actions of my Master, that so I may come to those of greater importance, wherewith his life hath been composed: I shall onely tell you that this beginning of my Mast­er caused great admiration, as well in Vinicius as all the other Romans, and indeed his actions were so famous, that they were by many thought incredible, when they were reported at Rome: Marcellus in like manner demeaned himself with so much gallantry, that his first actions doe deserve a perpetuall remembrance, and the two Princes, instead of envying and emulating each other, were reciprocally inte­ressed in each others glory: Marcellus did not receive greater satisfaction for the reputation which he acquired, than for the fame which Coriolan had gotten, and Coriolan did not hear his own commendations trumpetted out with [Page 42] greater content, than those of Marcellus: It's very true nevertheless, that my Master had the good fortune to doe those things which made a greater sound than those which were acted by Marcellus, and in many conflicts which they had with the Enemy, before they came to a pitch'd Battell, he made himself known to our Troops by such effects of his valour, as gave the Romans occasion to report that they never saw or heard of the like. He with a small hand­full of men, regained the Roman Eagles that were taken and possessed by a great number of the Enemies, and brought it all besprinkled with their blood unto Vinicius, who commen­ded him so much for that action, as did not stand with his modesty to hear; at the taking of divers Townes, that had revolted, by assault, he was the first that attempted to enter the breaches, and by the report of the Romans, the cause of their gaining those Towns was the cou­rage which he gave to those who were near him, to follow his good example: His onely vertue was not seen in his valour, but upon all occasions and chances of the war he discovered an unparelled moderation; He treated those E­nemies which fell into his hands with the same civility as was due to Friends, and many times when Towns were taken by storm, he got protection for divers Troops whose obstinacy as well as gallantry had incensed Vinicius a­gainst them: by meanes of his Noble carriage towards the Officers and Souldiers of the Ar­my, he was so beloved of them, that they gene­rally [Page 43] desired Vinicius to give him some consi­derable command amongst them, although it was never heard in the Roman Discipline that a­ny man of his yeares had any command; but when Vinicius at the solicitation of the Army, and out of the esteem which he had for him, gave him and Marcellus the joint command of the Cavalry, all Officers and Souldiers readi­ly expressed their satisfaction, by giving a rea­dy obedience to their commands: But the Ger­mans were not the onely Enemies that they had to fight with, the remembrance of Cleopatra troubled them more than their barbarous Ene­my; my Prince made no opposition against it, but confirmed himself more and more in his thoughts of submitting himself wholly to that Princess, all the Ideas and fancies concerning her were pleasing unto him, and made so many sweet impressions on his spirits; but Marcellus had a harder task to perform, and met with no sleight difficulties in his design of banishing her out of his thoughts; however he used his utmost endeavours, and such diligence in the manage­ment of it, that he failed not in the end of his design: my Prince did in part observe those difficulties which his Nobleness made him un­dergoe, and endeavoured, as much as in him lay, to divert him; he protested to him that he would rather leave him his Rivall for ever, and withdraw his own pretensions, if there was a necessity for it, than see his Friend to offer such violence to his inclinations for his sake onely: But the Noble Marcellus remained firm [Page 44] and constant in his resolution, and in regard of his youth and perpetuall divertisement in the Warres in a yeares time, he almost gained that which he desired, and striving to introduce Julia, by the remembrance of her beauty, which truely was one of the most exquisite in the World, as also the consideration of her good­ness towards him, and the pleasure of the Em­peror, on whom his whole fortune depended, made him make a great progress in it: during this time my Prince did write oftentimes to the Princess Cleopatra. Its impossible for me to think on all his letters, yet I remember the effect and wordes of some of them, and I think the first which he wrote was to this purpose.

The Prince Coriolan to the Princess Cleopatra.

IT will not be much, if I tell you, my divine Prin­cess, that I have you alwaies in my remembrance, and I may more truely protest unto you, that you possess intirely my soul, and that amidst the greatest dangers you preserve your Empire over me, and fight the Roman Enemies with weapons that are invin­cible: Ha, my Princess, who can oppose himself against a heart that is animated with so glorious an Image? what Enemies can dispute that glory with me which may make me worthy of you? This high design will without doubt make me act greater things than my fortune could promise me, and my destiny is too happy, for to fear that I shall be con­quered by any, after that I have bin vanquished by the Divine Cleopatra.

Not long after he wrote another, the sub­stance of which was.

The Prince Coriolan, to the Princess Cleopatra.

I should say that good fortune did attend on me, if the good success which I have gotten by its fa­vour, was not moderated with an absence that I am no longer able to endure, however I would endeavour to bear it as well as I may, if I could hope for a place in the remembrance of my Divine Princess. I can­not with boldness desire so much from her; but I can­not neglect to do it without failing to use the means which will preserve that life which is wholly devo­ted to her self.

These were the two first Letters which he wrote, to which he received no answer; but a while after, having done such wonderful acts as were reported at Rome, the Princess Octa­via, and the Emperour himself, expressed their willingness that she should write unto him, which accordingly she did; and as I remember, it was to this effect.

The Princess Cleopatra, to the Prince Coriolan.

I Doe with much willingness give obedience to the commands that I have received to write un­to you; and I doe follow my own inclinations, when I doe assure you that I am much interressed in your glorious Successes. Every body here doth talk of your famous actions; every one in Rome doth ad­mire [Page 46] them; and I my self am particularly rejoyced to hear of them. I pray the Gods to continue the same fortune unto you, and grant that you be not carried on so far by your courage, but that you may think on the preservation of that life which cannot be indifferent to those whom you account worthy of your remembrance.

My Prince received this Letter very joyful­ly, and kissed a thousand times those preci­ous marks of her affection. When he under­stood how much she was interressed in his glo­ry, he was encouraged to undertake greater Designs, and came off with so much reputati­on, that the effects of his valour was the whole discourse of the Army. The Enemies them­selves talked much of it; and having received so great dammage thereby, he was as well known amongst them as amongst his Friends. At the last, after many Skirmishes, the two Armies came to a pitcht Battel, neer the River Danube, and it was so bloudy, that the water was dyed red. The young Coriolan, and his Friend Marcellus, in the head of the Cavalry, performed such service, as untill that time the Romans had never been acquainted with, and gave such testimonies of their prudence and good conduct, as was not to be expected from persons of their age and experience: They rallied their Troops two or three times that had been scattered with the fury of their E­nemies, and led them on with such an un­daunted resolution, that they forced their pas­sage [Page 47] through the greatest bodies of the Ene­my, and at the last put them into an univer­sall Rout; which behaviour of theirs gave the Consul occasion to say after the Battell was ended, that they were engaged to them for the Victory. Marcellus saved the life of Vi­cinius; for after that he was dismounted, and had fought desperatly on foot, being invironed with the Enemies best Force, he mounted him again, and rescued him from that eminent dan­ger. My Master, amongst other remarkable actions that day, after that he had forced his passage through the strongest Squadrons of the Enemy, slew their two chief Commanders with his own hand, which made their souldiers to faint immediatly, and lose their courage: But the War was not quite ended after this battell; there were many dispersed Troops which remained to be defeated, and many re­volted places were to be taken in. This Ger­man War lasted two full years; after which, the two Princes having no more to do in Ger­many, they went with the Consul Vinicius to­wards Rome, loaden with credit and reputati­on. My Master went thither with so much joy, as the hopes to see again Cleopatra after two yeares absence could give him. The cure of Marcellus, which by this time was quite perfected, did much add to his satis­faction.

The carriage of Vinicius in Germany was such, that the Senate ordered him a Triumph, but for that he refused it out of modesty, they re­compenced [Page 48] his service otherwise: However he had a magnificent Entry into Rome; but the greatest part of the people were most taken with the two Princes, who rode on each hand of the Consul, and were covered with shining Armour, garnished with gold and precious stone: Their shoulders were shadowed with white plumes, and they were mounted on two brave white horses, whose pride and beauty did much add to the good Grace of their Ma­sters. All those who beheld them passing by in this posture, and had heard of their famous actions in the War, filled the Air with their joyfull acclamations, and used many expres­sions in their praise and commendation. The Emperour received them with abundance of affection, and Marcellus his relations at that time gave him no advantage over my Master. They were likewise courteously saluted and welcom'd by the Empress, and the Princess Octa­via; but when they came into the presence of Clepoatra, my Master regarded no other object; he found her wonderfully altered during his 2. years absence: Her stature (although she was not above fifteen years old) exceeded that of ordinary women; and her beauty began to ap­pear in that condition in which you saw her, but with this good change, her countenance ha­ving Royal Majesty imprinted on it. She was armed with more severity than formerly, and my Prince could not look on her without being accompanied with such a fear as was not usu­all during her more tender years, yet she re­ceived [Page 49] him with much civility; and he no sooner came neer her, but without any regard of those who were spectators of his action, he kneeled on his knee, and kissed her hand be­fore she could make him to rise up, and by this submission he publickly declared part of his thoughts to those who untill that time were ignorant of them; before so many witnesses, who desired to salute him one after another, he had not the opportunity to discourse with her, but his eyes performed the part of his tongue, and by his passionate looks he in part expressed that which he would have done with his mouth. The whole Court at that time cryed him up for a brave Prince, and the Em­perour made such Eulogies on him, as were e­nough to have contented the greatest ambiti­on. Every body approved of the Honours which he received, and he was envied by none but Tyberius, who having a mortal jealousie of him, was grieved at his heart to hear him so much commended.

Marcellus shared of the glory which he had justly merited, and the affection which the Romans had naturally for him was much in­creased with the knowledge of his vertues.

As soon as my Master came home to his Lodging, he was visited by a multitude of his Friends; and the first newes which he heard, was the love of Tyberius to the Princess Cleo­patra. My Prince suspected it before he went, but during his absence Tyberius had made so great a discovery of it, that every body took [Page 50] notice thereof. Coriolan was much troubled at the newes, yet before his Friends he dissem­nled his displeasure as much as he could; but when they were gone, and that he had the liberty to speak with me in private, he ex­pressed his fear of so powerful a Rival. He feared neither his valour, nor merit of his per­son, but it was the power of the Empress Li­via that terrified him: He knew well, that by means of her power with the Emperour, she might be able to cross his designs, in case she should approve of the passion of Tyberius; however he resolved to prosecute them, not­withstanding any obstacles, and to dispute with him openly, even to the hazard of his life, for that which he conceived was due to no man more than himself. He longed much to speak with the Princess on that Subject, that so he might understand what thoughts she had concerning him; and the next day he had his desire, for having obtained leave to visit her, he was with her alone for a long time, with­out any interruption from any other compa­ny. One may better imagine their discourses, than repeat it; and you may be assured, that my Masters work was to tell her how much mischief he had suffered by reason of his ab­sence from her; and Cleopatra's was to acqaint him how much she was delighted to see him returned with honour and safety; yet she talk­ed with him with such moderation, as made him to fear the loss of those hopes which he had conceived during her more tender years. [Page 51] This observation gave him an opportunity which he desired, and therefore, speaking to her with such respect as this new severity re­quired; If it may be lawful for me, Madam, said he, to discover to you my thoughts with­out offending you, I shall take the boldness to tell you that I look on this strangeness of yours as a bad Augur; for if it were the know­ledge of your merit that made you to use it, I could not in reason find fault with it, but think with other persons dis-interressed, that it suited well with the Majesty of so great a Prin­cess: But if it should arise from any other consideration, I could not look on it without seeing my condemnation and utter ruine. I cannot perceive any difference, replyed the Princess, between the manner of my conversa­tion with you at this time, and heretofore; and although I being now older, am likewise som­what more reserved, I cannot understand how this change can be any way prejudicial either to your hopes or contentment. I was always of opinion, answered the Prince, that my for­tune was too favourable in the beginning for to last long, and I cannot justly complain, al­though you should debar me from those fa­vours which I never as yet merited; but since every body else is as unworthy of them in my opinion as my self, I shall be of opinion, if you will give me leave, that Tyberius can­not more justly lay claim to them than my self.

Cleopatra, by this discourse, easily perceived the [Page 52] beginning of my Master's jealousie, and did not doubt but that he had been informed of the car­riage of Tyberius, during his absence; but she being resolved not to dissemble with him, I thought said she smilingly, that you would hear of all that hath passed during your absence, and that you would know that Tyberius hath pro­fessed a great affection for me, I will not endea­vour to hide the business from you, and will not stick to tell you that Tyberius hath the same thoughts concerning me as you have; as I, said the Prince interrupting her hastily: Ah Madam, doe not so afflict him who cannot hear such a comparison and not be mortally offended; I shall easily believe that Tyberius doth love you; and I cannot be so soon perswaded to believe any thing but that his passion should be equall to mine; this is such a belief as all my obedience and submission can never bring me too: Tyberi­us hath excellent qualities, and it may be his person is more considerable than mine, but our mindes are very different, and altogether un­capable of the same sentiments; if I were to make protestations of fidelity on my knees, or to aggravate my passion with many artificiall discourses, I know that I should get no advan­tage against Tyberius, but yet if I were to for­sake and contemn all those things on which the most ambitious spirits doe establish their great­est felicity, and if I were to dye at your Feet, and dye a thousand times if it might be done to doe you service, I believe that then you would find some difference between the affection of [Page 53] Tyberius and that of Coriolan. I shall tell you then, replyed the Princess, for to repair the dis­pleasure which I have given you, that I doe put some difference between you; and if I did not think that you would take too great an advan­tage thereby, I would add that I have a better opinion of you than of Tyberius; not but that he hath given me the same testimonies almost of his affection as you have done, yet I may safely tell you, that I have not been at all moved with his discourses, or behaviour, and unless I shall change my mind, I think it may be long e­nough, before I shall be enclined to hearken un­to him. This free and clear declaration of the Princess, gave my Master so great satisfaction, that it secured him against all his feares. He could not dissemble his content, but looking very cheerfully, I am too proud said he of the Honor which you have done me, in making this free declaration of your inclinations, and since they bend not towards my Rivall; but if I may dispute with him by my services, I doe not doubt but that by the favour of the Gods, and and your goodness, I shall defend my self well enough against him. I must likewise tell you freely, that I feared his person least of any thing, and I did more redoubt the credit of the Em­press, than the services or good qualities of Ty­berius. It's true, replied Cleopatra, that the Empress, a while since, did speak to me in his behalf, but of late she hath been silent in that business, for she having more thoughts of ad­vancing her Sonne, than indulgence for his [Page 54] love, laboureth more to gain him esteem with the Emperor than my self. I hope the Gods, an­swered Coriolan, will favour her in that design, for they are my witnesses, how that I doe not nvy him either the favour of the Emperor, or he possession of the Empire, for that he hath no hare in the affections of my Princess. Cleopatra was about to reply, but was hindred by the coming in of the Princess Julia and Marcellus, who with a great train of attendance were en­tring into the Chamber, but the day following, they had an opportunity to continue on their discourse, so that both by the discourses and behaviour of the Princess he might easily per­ceive, not onely that he was dearer in her esteem than Tyberius, but that he was as he could wish, considering the person of Cleopatra, who by this time was grown so high, that all human considerations whatsoever could not make him entertain a thought below the great­ness of her Family; during this time the two Princes her brothers were educated at Octavius house, with as great care as their birth, and hopes which they gave, did deserve; Alexander was as old as his Sister, and Ptolomy was about a year younger, but both of them exceeding beautifull, and shewed so much nobleness in all their actions, so much grace and addresse in all exercises which they learned, and such great­ness of courage in all rancounters, that every body in Rome looked on them with admiration; the Emperor made exceeding much of them, and the whole Court looked on them as chil­dren [Page 55] worthy of their Fathers greatness, and de­serving a better destiny; when they were but fifteen yeares old they kept company with great persons, they busied not themselves with those imployments which were used by persons of their age; my Prince, who looked on them as the Brothers of Clerpotra, and persons worthy of his esteem, had a great affection for them, and was as tender of their interests as his own; he observed so much greatness and nobleness in the countenance of Alexander, that he could not but love him, and the young Alexander as young as he was, was so well acquainted with the admirable qualities of my Master, that he came not far short of Marcellus in his affection towards him.

Marcellus was by this time much changed, for having a design to forget Cleopatra, and to look on the rare beauty of Julia, he found it so charming that he could not behold it with an indifferent eye: And truely this Princess Julia, for her beauty may be ranked with the chiefest in the World, and she hath such a facultie in setting it off, as few women have; she hath a bold spirit, yet pliable, and disposed to any thing, but very volatile and dangerous for per­sons that love her; so that if Marcellus had been well acquainted with her diposition, he would not so easily have engaged himself in those displeasures which the unconstant and artifici­all humor of that Princess made him endure. Although you have heard somwhat of this affair, yet I believe you are ignorant of the par­ticular [Page 56] passages, which I shall acquaint you with in the narrative of my Masters life; and indeed their adventures are so complext, that I cannot well separate them: when Marcellus first addicted himself to the service of Julia, he found her well disposed and willing to receive him, which he could not have expected in so short time, notwithstanding his merit, had she not a very great inclination for him; but she be­ing subtill, dissembled it according as she per­ceived the passion of Marcellus to encrease, and she would seem to make him purchase that with some difficulties, which in effect she had freely given him long before he attempted to ask it. Neither was Marcellus the onely servant which the Lady Julia had, there were many of the chiefest of the Romans, and other Prin­ces, who were brought up in Rome, that sighed for her.

During this time, my Master & Tyberius met each other every day in Cleopatra's Chamber, whom they openly professed to serve, and indeed they had not endured this concurrency, if they had not been restrained with very strong considerations. Tyberius was well acquainted with the courage of my Master, and my Master eonsidered the authority of Livia, and the cre­dit which she had with the Emperor; they chanced to be there one evening, which was be­fore a day which the Emperor had dedicated to publique sports and pastimes, for on that day besides the fighting with the wild beasts and the Gladiators, the noblest of the Romans [Page 57] were to shew their address on horseback, and to run severall courses. My Prince, Tyberius and Marcellus, provided themselves for the exereise of that day, and had made parties for to shew their Gallantry before their Princess, and every body expected great matters from them.

The two Princes meeting at the Princesses lodging, who for that she had caused a vein in her Arme to be opened that day, held it in a curious scarf of Tissue and Silk, the two Princes no sooner saw it but they had an equall ambition to have so precious a favour: My Prince, out of his respect and mo­desty, dissembled his thoughts, but Tyberius, being more hardy, or rather less respectfull, would not then make use of that which he practised in his other actions, but speaking to my Master, doe you not think Coriolan, said he, that he who shall appear to morrow ador­ned with that pretious scarf, will have a very great advantage beyond his companions, and having so precious a favour, will he not have great pretensions to those prizes and Trophes which the Emperor hath prepared: I can ea­sily believe all that you have said replyed cold­ly the Prince, but as it's a favour too great for any man to hope for, so I am of opinion that the Princess wil confer it on [...]o man; why not re­plied Tyberius, what reason can satisfie any bold spirit? especially such a one as will attempt any thing to do her service; wee may hope from her goodness all that she may give us, but I think it rather rashness than boldness, to pre­tend [Page 58] to any thing as if a man did deserve it, when if he have it, it must be a reall favour on­ly. Tyberius was about to reply, when the Prin­cess (who untill that time had kept silence) looking on him with a scornfull countenance, Trouble not your self no more said she unto him, to dispute for those pretensions, my fa­vours are below your services it may be, and therefore you may expect a more considerable recompence for them, and it may be such a one as you will obtain with more ease. If for all my endeavours, replyed Tyberius, I doe expect any other recompence than your self, I wish I may goe without it, and I doe not despair said he smilingly to gain that which I have desired from you; and I am now going to implore the Gods, that they will give you a disposition to grant it me. Having so said, he made a low reverence to the Princess, and went away with a countenance seemingly satisfied. My Master who had heard him discourse with some pain, had the opportunity to entertain the Princess with more freedom when he was gone, he ex­pressed his ardent desire to appear in those pub­lique shewes adorned with one of her favours, but found her not disposed to grant it, and as she was very circumspect in all her actions, so she contented her self with letting him know by her discourse, and behaviour, how much she esteemed him above all others that professed themselves her servants, without giving him those advantages which he thought would be­lie the high vertue which she professed.

The day following all things were prepa­red at the Ampitheater for the solemnity of that day; but for that I know that you desire onely to be informed of that which concerns my Master, I shall not trouble you with the particulars, I shall onely tell you that all things were in a readiness for the celebration of the pastimes. The people ranked after the usual manner. The Emperour was placed on the one side, with the greatest part of the Se­nate and Nobility; and the Empress on the other, with all the principall Ladies of Rome.

When as my Master came into the Circle, ar­med and mounted most advantagiously, his Armour shined with gold and precious stones, which vvere so Artificially set, that the eyes of the spectators had been long fixed on them, had not the gallantry of him that wore them justly drawn off their fight. His Casque was shadowed with white Plumes: His Visiere being turned up, he discovered such a noble fierceness, as made all the spectators to admire him. He heeded not much the acclamations of the peo­ple, but contemning all other objects, he look­ed after the Princess, whom he savv placed at the feet of the Empress, by the side of the Prin­cess Octavia, there he savv her shining like un­to a bright Star vvhich dispersed all other lights, and drawing the eyes of all Rome to­wards her, and every bodies thoughts imploy­ed in admiring her Beauty. The truth is, that when I saw her in that posture, my own eyes [Page 60] were dazled as well as the rest, and I could not then admire at the strange effects which her wonderful beauty had occasioned in my Ma­ster. When he had a while considered her in the posture of a man in a rapture, he was ob­liged to go on the other side unto the Front of his Troop, accordingly as Tyberius, Marcel­lus, Agrippa, and the young Alexander had done before him. Nothing could be more glori­ous to behold than Marcellus, for his good mind, and gracefull deportment, was set off with all the advantages and curiosity that Rome could add to it; but Tyberius was altogether as richly accoutred, and he was beautified with an infinite number of jewels, so that his Ar­mour did cast out rayes, enough for to dazle the eyes of all that beheld him; but for his most precious and remarkable ornament, he wore on his shoulder the Princess her most curious Scarf, which my Master had seen on Cleopatra the night before, and had been the occasion of the discourse which I even now re­lated unto you.

My Master no sooner saw it, but he knew it; and he no sooner knew it, but he found his heart overwhelmed with a mortal grief; a cold­ness like ice seized on all the parts of his bo­dy, and in a moment he lost a great part of his courage and understanding. He beheld for some time this object, which seemed to him to be full of cruelty and bitterness, and re­mained a while in such a posture as if he had lost his motion, until he was roused up with [Page 61] the noise of the Trumpets, which sounded o­ver all the Amphitheater, at which time he considered of what was meet for him to doe. The first thought which he had was to rush on Tyberius, and kill him in the sight of the Empe­rour, and people of Rome, and so have made that Combat bloudy, which was intended only for pastime and divertisement. He could scarce re­frain from putting in execution those furious thoughts, but that reason which he had left him, with-held him, or rather the fear which he had to offend Cleopatra. Then he thought to have reproached that Princess publickly, for the injustice which she had done him; but his respect to her made him to suspend the execution of that resolution; and at the last he resolved to withdraw himself from those Sports, since he had no force left to assist him at them, and to advise at a greater distance of the course which he should take. He stayed so long upon these thoughts, that all the Troops were advanced for to begin the intended exer­cises, and his was the onely Troop which continued in expectation of his commands. The young Alexander, who was neer him, had oftentimes put him in mind to be going. At the last I came unto him, and pulling him by the arm, said unto him; My Lord, do you not see that all the Troops are gone, excepting ours onely; upon that he came to himself, and said, come let us be gone, I can stay no longer. Ha­ving so said, he desired Alexander to supply his place, and made as much haste out of the com­pany [Page 62] as possibly he could. Tyberius, who was much interressed in this business, observed his action and departure, and thinking himself in a capacity to brave him, he called unto him; what will you be gone, said he, and leave the Lists? My Master could scarce refrain from fal­ling on him, for that he was so insolent by rea­son of his advantages; but the understanding that he had then left him, made him to suspend the execution of his resentments; however, he turned about, and looking very furiously on him, told him, that it was not for his sake that he had left the Lists, but for those marks of thy Fortune, said he, which thou unworthily wear­est, all which thou shalt resign unto me it may be with thy life. I believe that Tyberius did not hear what my Master said, for that he was going away; yet he was heard by many, who I think reported it unto him, which was the reason of my Masters speaking. It may be, said Tyridate, interrupting him, that those who o­verheard him had so much discretion as to con­ceal it, lest they should thereby make a differ­ence between those Princes who were so much in the Emperours esteem. I shall not dispute the business, replyed Emilius, but shall desire you to give me leave to inlarge my self on some passages of my Masters life, which though they are not of so great concernment as others, yet I think they are such as you will think worthy the relating.

The End of the First Book.

CLEOPATRA, The Second part. The Second BOOK.

IN this sort my Master left the Am­phitheater, pretending an indis­position to those who enquired after the reason of his departure. For my own part, I was as igno­rant of the reall cause of it as the rest; but as soon as we came home, I began to help him to take off his Armour, and then dis­covered such a paleness and change on his coun­tenance, that I could not forbear from asking him what was the reall cause of it. He conti­nued a while silent, without returning me any answer; and indeed he was overwhelmed with such sadness, as made him to lose the use of his speech. But when I had pressed him severall times to give me an ansvver; Didst thou not see, said he sighing, didst thou not see that Scarf vvhich Tyberius vvore to day on his arm, and didst thou not observe that it vvas the [Page 64] same which thou sawest yesterday on Cleopatra when thou wast with me at her lodging. She hath refused me small and triviall favours which I submissively begged of her, and yet she hath given this to that audacious and insolent fellow which he so proudly asked in my pre­sence, on purpose that he might triumph on me in the view of all the people of Rome: she hath forgotten (so inconstant is she) those sweet promises which she made me a thousand times to prefer me before him, and she hath much forgotten her self in discovering so much of her lightness to the whole Empire.

This same Cleopatra, whose spirit I thought had been uncapable of any of those weaknesses and failings which doe usually attend on her sex, hath now discovered her self for my ruine, and she doth not scruple to give up a Prince to despair who accounteth himself more worthy of her affection than him who she hath most un­gratefully and unjustly preferred. After this he suffered himself to be carried away with a torrent of reproaches, but he soon retracted them, and repenting for his error, he desired pardon from his Princess for that discourse which his fury made him utter. At last he con­verted his choler on Tyberius, and in a furious manner spake of him as followeth, Doe not think, said he, doe not think, thou insolent Rivall, to prevail against me by meanes of those advantages which blind fortune hath given thee, it's from her onely that thou holdest all that thou enjoyest above me, for if by reason of [Page 65] the fall of my family, I am not so cosiderable in Cleopatra's esteem as the Sonne of Livia, yet with a courage more Noble, a birth more il­lustrious, and an affection more reall than his, I have at the least equalled that which fortune hath given thee above mee: thou dost now va­pour, to the loss of my tranquility and honor, and thou dost bedeck thy self with that richer raiment which of right belongeth to my self, but fear (if it be possible that thou shuuldest be affraid, amidst so great fortune) fear least this present should prove fatall to thee, and that thou give thy blood for it, although all which runneth in thy veines will not be a sufficient recompence for it. He used many other expressi­ons of the same kind, full of transportation, savouring of despair, and continued tormen­ting himself all the remaining part of the day, untill the time that the company returned from the shewes, and then he resolved to write unto the Princess, and having used his best endeavours to master his passion, and put himself in a con­dition to observe his wonted respect in his wri­ting, he wrote as followeth.

The Prince Coriolan to the Princess Cleopatra.

IT's not proper for the most unfortunate Corio­olan to complain of Cleopatra, he is engaged to her for all things, and hath merited nothing from her; but yet if it mere lawfull for him to use so great liberty, he would acquaint her that although he was [Page 66] unwoothy of her favours, yet Tyberius did not bet­ter deserve them. This publique advantage hath publikly violated the promise which you made, ne­ver to prefer the Sonne of Livia before the Prince of Mauritany; but since it is not lawfull for me to ask my Soveraign why she hath failed in the per­formance of her promises, I shall desire from death that comfort which I cannot have elsewhere.

He had no sooner ended his writing, but he commanded me to carry it unto the Princess. I thought his way of proceeding to be very hasty, but being alwaies blindly obedient, I ne­ver disputed his commandes, but went imme­diately to the Princess her lodging, and deli­vered her the letter: she was newly returned from the Amplitheater as I came thither, and was retired all alone into her closet in great Anger; but when she heard that I waited to speak with her, she gave command that I should goe in to her. I perceived by her countenance that she was in no very good humour, yet she dissembled it as well as she could, and asked me what newes from my Master, before I had the time to deliver my message. Hee is in a very bad condition Madam said I, and this letter which he hath commanded me to deliver unto you will inform you further. The Prin­cess reeeived and read the letter from my Master without replying, but so soon as she had ended I easily perceived her dislike of the contents by the redness of her countenance. Her high spirit could not endure to hear her self reproached [Page 67] by him; and as she knew her self innocent as to the ground of his displeasure, so she suddenly changed the resolution which before she had taken up to comfort him, if he had been capa­ble of so much patience as to expect it; her cho­ler was by this meanes much heightned, but she having the absolute command of her passions, would not suffer it to break forth in my pre­sence, although she knew well how far my Master had honored me in communicating his greatest secrets unto me; she let the letter fall down on the table in a very negligent manner, told me, Coriolan doth well to believe said she, that he hath no cause to complain of Cleopatra, or to desire her to be mindfull of her promises, for indeed I never as yet engaged my self unto him in any whatsoever, as he doth injustly pretend. I shall not bestow my favours either on him or Tyberius, or any body else who shall take the liberty to reproach me in this kind. It may be I could have justified my self well enough in the business which he hath lay'd unto my charge, and should possibly have done it ere long, had he given me the time; but since he hath prevented me by such an Act as can no way correspond with the knowledge which he might have had of my humor, I pray tell him that he may look for comforts where he may find them, and suffer me to be in quiet without giving me any further trouble. And then beck­oning to me that I should retire, she took up a book and continued reading therein without looking further after me. I went away very [Page 68] sorrowful and much perplexed for the bad suc­cess of my message; and I was no sooner come in my Masters sight, but he suspected the truth of the business. I thought to have sweetened it as much as I could, but he gave me not so much time, and commanded me so se­verely to discover unto him the whole truth, that I durst not conceal any thing. I made him a perfect recital both of the carri­age and words of Cleopatra; by which means he was soon cast into the worst condition that possibly might be: I did think that the dis­pleasure which he might have by reason of the pretended change of Cleopatra, would have defended him against any fear of her anger; yet both those passions found their places in his spirits; and if he was afflicted when he conceived that Cleopatra was changed, I am sure he trembled vvhen he considered that he had angred her; and indeed the knovvledge of her sudden anger, and knovving her to be of a moderate temper, confirmed him in his be­lief of her change; and he imagined that for so slight an offence she could not be so indiffe­rent in matters vvhich concerned his life, vvith­out the loss of that vvhich heretofore made her more tender of it, and vvithout the reception of a nevv impression vvhich had quite defaced the former. Hereupon he uttered such expressi­ons, and behaved himself in such a manner, as was no way correspondent to his usual mo­deration. All his thoughts carried him on to contrive the death of Tyberius; but within a [Page 69] while after he found himself in a condition not able to execute his purposes or designs, but either by reason of his jealousie of the good success of his Rival, or by reason of his displeasure which he took for offending Cleo­patra, he fell that same night into a most vi­olent and dangerous Feaver. He was no soo­ner in his bed, but Marcellus (who was much troubled concerning him, in regard of his un­expected retreat from the Circle) came into his chamber. I was much refreshed at the sight of him, for that I thought him, by reason of the great power he had over him, most capa­ble to do him good. Before he went to my Masters Bed, and before he knew of his com­ming, he enquired of me how he did; and for that I knew my Master did not use to hide any thing from him, I informed him of the whole matter, judging it most proper to save a sick man the labour of reciting a story which he could not enter upon without being trans­ported. Marcellus was much amazed at the relation of the difference concerning Cleopa­tra's Scarf, and was much troubled to hear of Cleopatra's anger; for he being a true friend of my Masters, did really interest himself in his displeasures; but being of a couragious dispo­sition, he considered how he might serve him, as well as grieve for him; to that end, he went to his bed-side, and spake unto him in this sort: How Coriolan are you so suddenly deject­ed, and have you so soon lost that valour and courage, which you have so often discovered [Page 70] upon occasions far more dangerous? Ah my dear friend Marcellus (replyed the Prince sigh­ing) in the condition I now am in, my cou­rage will no way avail me; and much easier is it for me to look death in the face in the midst of an Army, than to endure this altera­tion or anger of Cleopatra. The anger of Cle­opatra (replyed Marcellus) will be of no long continuance; and for the change which you mention, you have very weak surmises onely of it. Do you call those weak surmises which my own eyes have seen? and was it possible, think you, for Tyberius to gain a greater advan­tage against me than that which he hath va­poured with in sight of all the people of Rome? Aemilius hath told me the whole business, said Marcellus, and I must needs confess that you have some cause of discontent, but why you should be thus dejected, I cannot see cause, for that I can perceive no such evident grounds of your misfortune. Ah Marcellus, cryed my Master, it's an easie matter for those who are in good condition to blame those actions for failings in others, when as they would be guil­ty of the like, should their good fortune forsake them in the like manner. Doe you believe, said he, raising himself up, and leaning on his arm, that after so many apparent marks of Tyberius his Fortune, and my disgrace, I can observe any moderation in my grief? and could you put any value on that courage which you mind me of, if it could defend its self a­gainst the apprehension which I ought to have [Page 71] for the loss of all my hopes? Ah no, my dear Marcellus; for since my life is onely founded on the affections of Cleopatra, I must of ne­cessity cease to live, if I can no longer enjoy her affection; and I do desire onely from the Gods so much time as I may work my revenge on Tyberius. I saw that insolent man adorned with that precious favour which I durst not hope for; and I do well remember, that when in my presence he had proudly demanded it, he discovered at his going away, as well by his discourse, as his behaviour, the assurance which he had to obtain it; This Princess, who I thought could not have been guilty of so black a dissimulation, did then so artificially mask her design to favour him: But since she hath made no difficulty at all to cut off my hopes, and let all the World see the advantages which she hath bestowed on that insolent man. After this cruel disgrace, a small complaint, and that full of respect (and such a one as the Gods never denied us amids the least affliction) hath drawn on me the indignation of that spirit, from which, if it had not been wholly changed, I had soon had a pardon for so just a resent­ment; and she would not have sacrificed to despair a life that was wholly at her devotion, by using such cruell and scornfull langauge: But since it's her pleasure that it should be so, let it be so, and let her behold the deplorable end of my life, which I will now no long­er seek to preserve, since it's displeasing, or at least indifferent to her. By reason of [Page 72] this misfortune, my noble Friend, you have lost the fruits of your generosity, and those endeavours which you used by the help of your great vertue to favour me, are now become unprofitable unto me, since I can neither en­joy that good which you resigned unto me, nor am in a capacity to restore it unto you. The Prince had suffered himself to be carri­ed on with passion, had not Marcellus (who thought that so vehement and tedious discourse would retard his recovery) interrupted him. I shall not disapprove of your affliction, said he, and I am so well acquainted with what such a cause may produce, that I cannot wonder at the effect; but yet I would desire that you would be a little better satisfied of the reality of the misfortune, before you pre­cipitate your self into such extremities. I shall quickly be able to inform you of the truth, and when you need not to doubt your good or had Fortune, we will advise of the course you are to take. It will be too late to see the Princess Cleopatra this night, but I shall not fail to give her a visit to morrow, and let her use the best art she can, I do assure you she shall not be able to conceal her thoughts from me; in the mean time take your rest for the love of me, and hope for a favourrable suc­cess in the design which I shall undertake to free you from those feares you are now in. My Master was so much overwhelmed with grief, that he wholly slighted the care which Marcellus took for his satisfaction, protesting, [Page 73] that since his life was indifferent to Cleopatra, he would not use any means for it's preserva­tion But Marcellus continuing some time with him, pressed him so vehemently, that although he could not allay his passion, yet he dispo­sed him to expect the event of his intended discourse with Cleopatra Marcellus being gon, my Master continued that whole night sighing and sobbing, and sometimes uttering some ab­rupt speeches; and although he was in a vio­lent Fever, yet he would not permit us to bring him any Physician, or suffer us to use any means for the recovery of his health, which he utterly neglected. The day following, as soon as the Princess Cleopatra was in a condition to receive a visit, the diligent Marcellus ha­stened to her Lodging; he found her in the same fretfull humour that I had left her in the day before, yet she received him with that ci­vility, which his quality, merit, and the esteem which she had for him, might claim from her; and because she was without other company but her Maids, which were not suspected, he had the freedom to entertain her at his plea­sure; and taking an occasion to come to his intended design from her deep sadness: If your quiet and satisfaction were not much desired by me, said he, I might meet with some con­solation in the rencounter of a person who seemeth to be as much dis-satisfied as my self, but I pray God keep you from such afflictions as I lye under. The Princess, although she be­gan to smell his meaning, was unwilling to [Page 74] interrupt him, but seeming to be amazed at his discourse, she said, I could willingly partici­pate with you in your sorrow, did I think that you had a just ground for it; but I did not think you were in a condition to lament for the mis­fortune. I have great cause to complain of my bad fortune, replyed Marcellus, and if I should not express too much boldness, I would tell you that I have as great cause to complain of you, since you are resolved to make me lose the noblest and dearest Friend that I ever had or shall have, the unfortunate Coriolan is now dying, and I cannot understand why you will have it so. I think you have no reason to question the reallity of his love or respect, and the qualities of his person are so well known to all the World, that I cannot imagine that you should be ignorant of them; nay I shall add moreover (and you must excuse me if I take upon me so much freedom,) that you have had an esteem for him, and it's not above two days since he had all the reason that might be to be proudly satisfied with his condi­tion, but the space of one night hath ruined him, and when he was least prepared for so cruell a revolution, he hath beheld with his own eyes the indubitable markes of destruction, and received from a messenger who hath reported your intentions unto him, that sentence of death which you have pronounced against him, yet he doth not murmur against you, nor doth he complain of his destiny, for that he hath al­waies cast it at your Feet; but if it may be per­mitted [Page 75] to an innocent man; Marcellus had con­tinued on his discourse had not the Princess who heard him with great impatience hastily interrupted him: It's enough Marcellus said she, I know all that you can say for your Friend, and it may be I have heard you longer on that sub­ject than I should have done any one besides; I am neither ignorant of his birth, nor the qua­lity of his person, and untill now I had never cause to complain, either of his want of affecti­on or respect; but since he hath begun to lose both, and by taking advantage from my indul­gence towards him, hath pretended to have some command over my actions, he may not think it strange that I doe labour to disabuse him, and let him know that I will not give so great a libertie neither to him not any body else: see here the letter which he hath sent me said she, taking up my Master his letter which lay open on her table; consider well the lan­guage of it, and then judge if you please whe­ther it be worthy of so much respect as you seem to plead for. When he wrote this letter re­plyed prudently Marcellus, he conceived him­self a lost man in your esteem, and had seen with his eyes those marks of Tyberius his happiness, which could be built on no other foundation than his own ruin; upon so clear and publique a knowledge of his misfortune, he could do no less than complain unto you, which me thinks he hath done with great moderation. If he had done it with moderation and respect replied the Princess, he had without doubt received [Page 76] full satisfaction from me, for as his misfortune was grounded onely on his fancie and opinion, so that being lost he would have continued in the same condition from whence he imagined that he was injustly fallen, but instead of endea­vouring to be satisfied of the truth, with that respect which he ought to have shewen me, he writes commandingly unto me, and reproach­eth me for promises that I should make him, and the favours which I should confer on Tyberius, in very proud and disdainfull termes: could he not have stay'd untill he had been well infor­med of the truth, before he had flown out so audaciously against a Princess, to whom by his own confession he had given some authority o­ver him, and to one who would have cared lit­tle for his anger, did she not respect him more than he deserved: I must confess, replyed Mar­cellus, he hath been a little too hasty, but I must say likewise that he would have discovered but a weak passion, if he proceeded so coldly as you did expect he should have done, and I should have believed that Coriolan had lov'd you very little, if upon so great an apparance of his misfortune, he had kept his whole under­standing. He might have known me better, reply­ed hastily the Princess, and should sooner have belyed his own eyes than entertained such an opinion of me as hath mortally offended me, or have taken the boldness to declare such a thing unto me; he ought not to have controuled my action if it were true that he had given me any authority over his own, and might have [Page 77] remembred that I have not so demeaned my self towards him that he should so suddenly take an occasion to reproach me. I should not then have been wanting in my justification to him, as I shall not be now to you, not so much for the satisfaction of Coriolan as my self, and for to take off the opinion which you o­therwise might conceive of my forwardness in granting favours to Tyberius: Know therefore, that it was not from me that he got the scarf which he so much flanted with in the publique Circle, but from the Empress his Mother, who coming yesterday mourning into my Chamber whilst I was making me ready, saw it lying on my Table, and took it up; and when she had much commended the curiosity of the work, desired me to give it unto her: I could not de­ny so small a gift to a person from whom I re­ceived all that I have, yet I had done it if I had suspected that she would have done me an office so unsuitable with her dignity; but she concealed her intention, and carried it her self out of my Chamber, and afterwards without doubt gave it unto her Sonne, who as I since think had obli­ged her to desire it of me. I was so much troub­led when I saw it at the publique shewes, that I could scarce refrain from doing as Coriolan did, and since I have been so vexed about it, that I have hitherto forborn to visit the Empress, for fear lest I should discover the displeasure which she hath given me by meanes of her de­ceitfull dealing with me. You now understand Marcellus the naked truth of the business, and I [Page 78] should without doubt have made the same re­lation to Coriolan, had he kept himself within the bounds of his duty, and forborn to height­en my choler by his impudent way of pro­ceeding

Whilst that Cleopatra thus spake, and Mar­cellus, who was ravished with joy for the in­terest of his Friend, listned to her with a won­derful attention, Tyberius came into the cham­ber, and (as the Gods would have it for the conclusion of this adventure) he wore then on his arm the same Scarf which had occasioned so much disorder and distraction, he being re­solved to wear it as long as he could.

The Princess had no sooner espied him, but her choler returned, and Marcellus quickly discovered it by the redness of her face; he could not hold from changing his countenance also, and could not but with great impatience look on those Trophees in his possession which had cost his dear Friend so great a sorrow.

Tyberius was scarce seated, but he began to discourse with the Princess, when as the im­patient Princess, who could not longer dissem­ble her resentments, looked on him with such an eye as did sufficiently express her thoughts. Tyberius, said she, interrupting him as he was speaking, I take it very ill that you should gain that by Artifice, and the authority of one who hath a command over me, which you could not have gotten with your own credit; and I was much displeased to see you vapour pub­lickly with that which I should not have be­stowed [Page 79] on you upon any consideration what­soever.

Tyberius was much surprised with this dis­course, and was the more troubled because it was heard by Marcellus, who he knew to be extremely interressed in my Master his fortune; but as he was naturally very bold, so upon this occasion he soon recovered himself, and in­deavouring to conceal his discontent for to carry himself respectfully to the Princess; I did not believe, said he, that we were to be blamed for seeking our glory and renown by those wayes which have procured me that which you so much envy me; I should not have desired it, had I thought that I could not have obtained it without displeasing you; and since this misfortune is befallen me, I am rea­dy to make you all the reparation that you can desire for so great a fault, and from my obe­dience.

All that I desire from you replyed Cleopa­tra, is, that you restore me presently the Scarf, that so you may not suffer me to continue any longer in the displeasure into which you have cast me ever since I knew it to be in your power.

You gave it to one, replyed Tyberius, from whom you would not, it may be, retake it in this manner; and since you know that it's from the Empress that held it, I hope you will not command me to restore it to any body but her self.

When I gave it to the Empress, said Cleopa­tra, [Page 80] I thought that it had been for her self and not for you that she desired it, and when she shall at any time desire it for her own use, I shall return it unto her with that respect which I ow her. I hope said Tyberius, you will think it fit that I should be very carefull and choice in keeping that which came from so good a hand, and that you will not think it strange that I should rather lose my life than that which is more dear unto me, it being that which in justice you cannot take from me, because I had it not of you. You had not received it from the Empress replied Cleopatra, if she had known the inconvenience that I have suffer'd thereby; for she hath more goodness than to comply so far for your satisfaction, to the prejudice of a Prin­cess that doth honor her according to her du­ty; but since you have deceived her as well as my self, you shall restore it unto me, if you please, or otherwise I shall desire you to forbear putting your self to the trouble of seeing me any more.

Tyberius seemed to be much amazed at these last words of the Princess, but dissembling his admiration the best he could, You treat me ex­ceeding coursly, said he, and you have redueed me to the choice of two evills, the least whereof is more cruell to me than death it self; but if you will force me to such an Election, I will rather choose to make you a present of that which the Empress hath given me, than be de­barred from ever seeing you: You will much sa­tisfie me replied the Princess, & whether I doe [Page 81] receive it in the nature of a present, by way o restitution; I doe assure you that you wil thereby much quiet and content me: It may be that it's to satisfie some body else, replyed boldly Tyberius, that you are induced to offer me this violence against your own inclination, however I doe obey (said he unloosing the scarf and casting it on the Table) because I know no law that can warrant a refusall, but yet I hope you will remember that I my self am not the person solely interessed in this bad usage, and that I have good reason to complain to the Empress of the wrong that you have done me. Having so said, he went out of the Cham­ber so far transported with choler, that he had scarce understanding enough left him to guide him in his way

Marcellus was never present at a discourse pleased him so well as this, he onely desired that for the compleat satisfaction of his Friend, he had been in some corner where he might have observed the confusion of Tyberius, and have been revenged on him for the displeasure which he had received by his meanes; he could not conceale his joy from the Princess, but assoon as Tyberius was gone, he was about to express it, when as she turning her self towards him, prevented him as he was about to speak: doe not you think said she, now that I have re­tracted my scarf from Tyberius for the satisfacti­on of Coriolan, I owed that duty to my self, and your Friend hath too much abused the power which he thought he had over me, for to ex­pect [Page 82] that I should comply so far for his con­tentment and repose: Ah Madam, replyed my Master's reall Friend, how different are your wordes from your thoughts, if I may say so, and you are too well acquainted with the innocence of poor Coriolan for to stand in need of any re­presentations of mine, he hath committed such a fault as few men would have avoyded, and he hath received such a punishment for it as hath brought him to death's door. I have left him in such a condition as will soon overcome all the resentments which you can have against him, and in such a condition as I fear least I may come to late with those remedies which I hope you will be inclined to afford him for his recovery. Cle­opatra, really loving my Master was sensibly troubled with this discourse, which although Marcellus could not but discern, yet she labou­red to dissemble it as well as she could: your Friend said she, with a forced smile, is not so sick as you seem to make him; But he is reply­ed very mournfully Marcellus, and I am in doubt of his life, and I know that nothing can doe him good but those remedies which you may make use of for his recovery; and I am doubtfull whether they can come timely enough for to free him out of the danger in which I left him. He uttered these wordes with so much seriousness, that the Princess was satis­fied with the truth of what he had spoken, and calling to her mind to what extremities my Master's passion had reduced him upon other oc­casions, she disarmed her self of her choler upon [Page 83] the apprehension of his miserie, and then looking with a more pleasant countenance on Mar­cellus. I am not so much incensed against Coriolan, said she, for to desire that he should continue in any danger, or that I should refuse him any remedie for his relief that doth lie in my power to grant; provided always that they be such as will leave no blemish on my honor. Marcellus fell on his knee at these words, and having at last by his many discourses (which would be now too tedious for me to relate) prevailed with her to write this folllowing letter.

The Princess Cleopatra to the Prince Coriolan.

MArcellus who hath pleaded your justificati­on will justifie me unto you, and will let you know that there was more innocence in my procee­ding than in yours. I doe not retain so great a re­sentment against you, but that I do desire the recove­rie of your health: cure your self therfore as soon as you can, and for your recovery, I shall receive as much joy as you have given me displeasure for your impatience.

Marcellus having obtained this letter for my Master, did endeavour by his earnest intreaties to procure for him the scarf which she had taken from Tyberius, but he could not possibly pre­vail so far with her; for her high spirit did not onely oppose the granting of those favours, [Page 84] but also the fear of giving a just occasion to Tyberius for to undertake a quarrell with the Prince.

During this time it hapned that Marcellus had discoursed truer of the indisposition of my Master than he imagined, for with tormen­ting himself that night; his fever was so in­creased, that the next morning he was in great danger of losing his life; he persevered in his design to use no remedies, notwithstanding the instant intreaties of his Friends; and the opini­on which he had of the change of Cleopatra, had wrought such an impression on his spirits, that he desired nothing more than death it self, and he had certainly dyed had not Marcellus brought him a very seasonable remedie. He coming to his bed side, and seeing no compa­ny present, rise Coriolan said he, you ought no longer to grieve and torment your self when you have heard the good newes which I bring you: At these words of Marcellus, Coriolan tur­ning himself about, and looking on him with a very languishing eye. Ah Marcellus said he, what pleasure can you take in sporting with a miserable and disconsolate man? If I doe jest replyed Marcellus, casting himself on the bed, I doe believe that you will be well pleased with this kind of jesting, and before we part I hope to receive better entertainment from you; doe but rise and ask pardon of Cleopatra for the offence which you have committed, and rather thank her goodness for pardoning so easily an injurie which might have deser­ved [Page 85] a harsher penance. My Master was by this means between hope and fear; but Marcellus being unwilling to keep him any longer in suspence, after that he had prepared his atten­tion, he told him all that had passed during his being in Cleopatra's company, and related to him word by word all the discourse he had with her. My Master was transported with joy when he understood that it was not from Cleopatra that Tyberius had received those favours; but when he understood the whole story of the treatment which he had received at Cleopatra's lodging, he was ravished beyond all expression. But at the last he imagined that Marcellus had talked after this sort onely to amuse him, and make him think of his recovery, whereupon he de­sired him earnestly not to abuse him, and put him into such a condition as from which a re­lapse would prove more dangerous unto him than his first distemper. What confirmation would you desire of the truth that I have told you, said Marcellus? I would willingly see a few lines written with Cleopatra's own hand: You will then be fully satisfied, replyed Mar­cellus; and then being unwilling to defer his satisfaction any longer, he gave him Cleopa­tra's Letter, which as soon as my Master had seen, and observed the hand-writing, by reason of his extraordinary joy he could scarce keep his understanding; He remained for some time silent, and without motion, upon the know­ledge of his happiness. As soon as he came to himself, he expressed his first resentments [Page 86] by his tender imbracing of Marcellus; and when he began to speak, he confirmed them with such passionate expressions, as drew tears from Marcellus his eyes. I should tire you, if I should repeat all their discourse; there­fore I will onely tell you, that by means of this sweet remedy, my Master his mind was freed from all discontents. But the condition of his body waxed worse, and the Physicians, who were presently after admitted to come to him, were of opinion that this excess of joy had redoubled the force of his Fever; yet we had good hopes of his recovery, since he was contented to make use of those remedies which were prescribed for him; for the Prince ha­ving now nothing on his spirits which might make him to hate his life, used the best means for his recovery, that so he Might be in a disposition to see Cleopatra again; but he found his body disobedient to his will, for that by reason of his immoderate grief all his bloud was so corrupted, that the Physicians fea­red more than they hoped for the success. All the noble Gallants of Rome were interressed in the sickness of my Prince: The Emperour him­self came to see him many times; and amongst all the chief of the Court, onely Tyberius (who had the resentment of his displeasure fresh in his memory) refrained from visiting him. Marcellus stirred not from his bed-side during his sickness, but performed the office of a dear Brother, and was much afflicted for the con­tinuance of his indisposition. The Princess [Page 87] Cleopatra could not conceal her displeasure, but expressed it in a Letter which she wrote unto him about two dayes after the former; which when my Master had received, he opened it with a trembling and weak hand, and read in it with much pain these words.

The Prnicess Cleopatra.

I Did not expect so little obedience from you; and I did sufficiently express my desire of your reco­very for to oblige you to seek it: Endeavour there­fore to effect it, if you mean to content me; it will be the strongest assurance that I shall desire of your affection, and the most pleasing news that I can hear for my own satisfaction.

These words had been sufficient to have cu­red my Master, if the contentment of his mind could have so much advanced the cure of his body; and when he had kissed a thousand times that delightful command, for to obey her he used all the means that we offered him; but his sickness had taken so deep a root, that it would have its course, notwithstanding all our endeavours to stop it. The poor Prince covet­ed nothing more than the sight of Cleopatra; and the Princess in this extremity did not stick to discover to Marcellus, and my self, the affe­ction which she had for him, and the desire which she had to visit him, and waited only for an opportunity to do it handsomely: She was loath to goe alone, and was willing to wait on the Empress to him; but she retain­ing her anger against him for her Sons sake, [Page 88] did not come at him, onely she sent sometimes to enquire of his welfare. At last, Marcellus told her that she might accompany Octavia thither, who had been there once before, and would be very ready to express her love to the Prin­cess. The children of M. Antony did look on Octavia as their Mother; and indeed she ever behaved her self so towards them; and al­though Cleopatra did keep in the Empresses Lodgings by the special command of the Em­press her self, yet she was every day to visit Octavia. Octavia was very well acquainted with my Master his passion, and did not dis­like it; and her Son Marcellus had no sooner desired that favour from her for his Friend, but she granted it with much willingness, and the very next time that she saw Cleopatra, she desired her to accompany her to Coriolan. The Princess, who knew that she might attend on his Mother without fear of blame, gave ready obedience to her desire. Marcellus acquainted my Master with this design, and disposed him for it before, lest it might occasion an immo­derate joy, which might retard his recovery: But my Master was scarce able to contain him­self, notwithstanding all his endeavours; and he no sooner saw the Princess come into his chamber, but he lost all knowledge. Octa­via went to his bed-side, where after some civill expressions, she assured him that the con­tinuance of his weakness did much trouble her; and then taking her Son aside to the window, pretending to talk with him, she loft the [Page 89] Princess alone by his bed-side, for the maids which attended on them kept at a distance at the other end of the chamber. Cleopatra, al­though prepared for this interview, could not refrain from blushing, and she had much to do for to overcome that shame which she concei­ved for doing an act which she thought in some sort blamable: However she sate down in the chair which Octavia had left; and whilst the Prince, who was much troubled in mind, had not the assurance to open his mouth, bending her head towards him, that she might not be heard by those which were in the chamber, Co­riolan, said she, I have cause to complain of you, and if you did truly love me, you would more regard the interest which I have in your reco­very: I have already assured you the same by my Letters, and I have overcome many scru­ples, which I should not have done upon slight considerations, for to come and declare the same unto you.

The Prince, notwithstanding the distracti­on of his thoughts, took heart at the hearing of those words, and after an anticipation of what he had to say by his passionate looks; You have cause Madam, said he, to condemn the condition in which you see me, for instead of finding me in this posture, which is no way conformable to the respect which I owe you, I should have been prostrate at your feet, for to have begg'd pardon for the offence which I have committed: This disobedient body of mine doth suffer somewhat, and I think my [Page 90] spirits have not fared better; but neither one nor the other can be sufficient to satisfie you, unless your goodness doe supply the defects of both.

Speak no more, said the Princess, who would not have him to fall into a long discoarse, speak no more of that which I have already pardoned; you were somewhat too easie of belief, and guilty of a little precipitation; but you have suffered more for it than I did desire you should; and if I am yet angry with you, it's because you strive no more to recover your health, which is so dear to me, the care of which I so earnest­ly recommended unto you: For my sake ther­fore banish out of your thoughts all that may trouble and disquiet you, and be assured that I shall not be well satisfied untill I see you per­fectly recovered.

I am so contented Madam, replyed my Ma­ster, for those favours which you have done in letting me receive so many confirmations of your goodness, in a place so unfitting to re­ceive you, and in a place where I could not hope for the favour which you have done me, that I do not bewail the loss of that life which is now about to leave me, unless it be for fear I should dye before.

Hold, said the Princess, doe not think of death, whilst I prize your life as dear as my own; I will have you to overcome your di­stempers for the love of me; I say I will have it so by all the authority which I have over you, and by that intimation which I give you, [Page 91] that you cannot neglect the preservation of your life, without attempting to destroy my own.

The Princess held one of her hands before her face to hide her blushiong which those last words of hers had occasined; and yet to con­firm them to Coriolan by such testimonies which she never untill that time gave him, she let her other hand fall on his cheek; which the Prince taking in his feeble hands, pressed and kissed with incredible contentment.

The Princess perceiving him to be all in flame, and fearing that a longer converse with him might much prejudice him, resolved to leave him, and therefore withdrawing her hand gently, I will be gone, said she, lest I should hinder that which I desire you should doe; but be you sure to obey me, if you have a desire that I should love you. At these last words she being more confounded than before, she had not the confidence to look on him; going to Octavia and Marcellus, told them that she had quitted Coriolan so soon, lest that her longer stay with him might endamage his health.

I doe not know whether this visit restored my Master to his health, or whether his dis­ease had run its course; but however it was, the next day the violence of his Fever aba­ted, and within few dayes after it wholly left him, so that it was not long ere he found him­self so well that he might quit his chamber, and go visit Cleopatra, for to return her thanks [Page 92] for those favours which he had received from her. I doubt I have held you too long on this best subject, and it may be, having great­ter matters to relate, I should but slightly hint at those passages which are of less impor­tance: but I have the rather done it because from these passages you may gain a more clear knowledge of the humor of Cleopatra than from any other, for by those light touches which I have given you, you may well imagine that she is a Lady of a high and imperious spirit, but hath a nature truely good and generous. During this time the Empress by reason of her Sonnes complaints, in which she her self seemed to be concerned, expressed much of her resent­ment to Cleopatra: I believe she would not have suffered her to live with her any longer, had not Marcellus, who was great in the Emperor his esteem, bestirred himself notably for her. The Emperor who was willing to oblige his nephew, and favour the Princess who was much respected by him; would have the pre­tendent assent pass for a matter of merriment, so that the Princess had onely a sleight re­proach and a few bad looks for some dayes from the Empress, but Although the Empress was well versed in the art of dissembling and complying with the Emperors humor, yet she retained alwaies a pigne against my Master, and this cause of difference between my Master and Tyberius was the foundation of that hatred be­tween them which hath since occasioned very great and sad effects.

But Tyberius being as I have before observed, a crafty dissembler, cloaked his malice in good part, as well for that he was well accquainted with my Master's courage, as also the credit of Marcellus who openly sided with him, expect­ing an opportunity to vent it when fortune should offer him a more advantagious occasion: he forbore seeing the Princess for some time, and professed that he would never see her more, and the Empress her self who studied more his advancement than to indulge him in his love, confirmed him in this resolution, but he con­tinued not long in that minde, for his choler against Cleopatra being in a very short time dissipated, or rather he giving way to a more violent passion, he addressed himself unto her more submissively, and was more devoted to her service than ever. It's true he changed his way of courting her, and since he had learned by this last rencounter, that she had a spirit too high for to be easily governed, he proceeded in a more moderate way, and endeavoured to win upon her by his artificiall and subprissive carri­age, and indeed he acted the parts both of a sub­till and humble man towards her.

By this meanes as well as the considerations of his birth, and the power of Livia, the Prin­cess was enforced to suffer him, and shew the same countenance to him as formerly; during this time she carred her self so towards him and my Master, and made so good use of her autho­rity over them, that for fear to displease her they were fain to shut their eyes and wink at [Page 96] scverall occasions of quarrelling which they had every day offered: Had it not been for this consideration, they could not have brideled their passions: but she repressed their resent­ments with so great authority, that they durst not suffer them to break forth: my Master had less cause than Tyberius, for that he had much the advantage of him, but that being known onely to himself and Marcellus, the Princess behaved her self with such prudence, that it was difficult for any body to discover her in­tentions. But about this time my Master met with many impediments, and disgusts where­with I shall acquaint you in speaking of Mar­cellus, whose adventures have such a connexi­on with my Master's, that it would be difficult to give you a narrative of one of their lives without speaking somwhat of the other: Mar­cellus being fixed on his design of serving Julia, was become insensibly entangled in her affecti­on, and indeed that Princess was so amiable that she might easily subject any body that had but the lest disposition to love her: Marcellus was naturally of a sweet disposition, and sus­ceptible of impressions, and he no sooner resol­ved to apply himself to the love of Julia, but he found such charmes as were capable not onely to confirm him in his resolution, but to make him persevere in that for necessity, which he un­dertook out of a design; in fine he loved her, and he loved her truely, and his affection in­creasing insensibly on him, became so powerfull that never was man more engaged than Mar­cellus; [Page 97] my Master, from whom Marcellus kept no­thing secret, was abundantly satisfied there­with, not onely because this passion of his Friend secured him against the former, but al­so by reason of the desire which he had to see the establishment of his Friends fortune with a conformity of his desire with the Emperor, who intended to bestow his Daughter on him, and was well pleased with the testimonies which he gave her of his love: Julia liked well the business, and that Princess who loved him ere he had any thoughts of that kind, could not receive from him those reall assurances without being confirmed in her inclinations: however she dissembled them for some time as well as possibly she could, and thinking to make them more esteemed by Marcellus, by reason of a little difficulty, she made her self his absolute Mistriss, and made him a little suf­fer: Marcellus sighed and complained often of her feigned and rigorous dealing with him, but in the conclusion after some months pe­nance and services, he found as much acknow­ledgement and requitall of affections as he could desire; there was no favour that he could wish for from the daughter of Augustus, that was refused him, and she was the more willing to grant them, because she knew, that in so doing, she should please the Emperor, and could not more nearly oblige him, than by respecting the person of his nephew; he spent whole daies in her company, with as much satisfaction as he could desire, and although, many of the [Page 96] Roman Nobility, and diver forraign Princes, who then lived at Rome, were his Rivals, yet they were all fain to submit to his fortune, as­well because they durst not contend against the desires of the Emperor, and the Senate, and people of Rome, whose darling and delight Marcellus was, as I have much before obser­ved; The people of Rome seemed to be much in­terressed in the success of this match, and they were in great hopes to see both the daughter and authority of the Emperor possessed by him who was so dear unto them, their hopes was grounded on good appearances, and without doubt the effects had proved conformable, and Marcellus had had little cause to doubt the hap­piness of his condition, if Julia, together with her exquisite beauty and piercing apprehensi­on had not been guilty of the greatest incon­stancie and lenity as can possibly be imagined, she hath given such testimonies of it, as I am confident you must be acquainted therewith, since you have spent some time among the Ro­mans, but this was occasioned by reason of such a one, as of all others in the World would not contribute towards the displeasure of Marcellus. I should have thought that his merit might have occasioned it, had she not discovered her self to be naturally unconstant, and for that cause I might possibly have excused those first leni­ties of Julia, but there have since followed so many without sence or reason that all that one can alledge in her defence will not be sufficient to justifie her, my Naster who was Marcellus [Page 97] his neerest Friend, had the greatest and freest access unto her; and for his Friends sake he behaved himself extraordinary respectfull to­wards her: He had much discourse with her every day, but he always spake of his Friend, and for that he was acquainted with his greatest secrets, he was furnished with matter enough to discourse on with her.

The affection which he had for Marcellus made her to keep within her bounds for a time; but at the last, she considered too neerly his rare qualities; and so by degrees, from a particular esteem which she had for him, she passed into a well-wishing, which insensibly introduced a reall love of him. Had any woman else been so smitten, she would have concealed it for e­ver, and she had reasons powerfull enough, (to wit, the greatness of her birth, the duty which she owed the Emperour and Marcellus) to struggle very hard with her passions, be­fore she suffered her self to be overcome: But she was of another temper, and hated con­straint and tyranny beyond all evils whatsoe­ver: She had nevertheless so much modesty, as to dissemble her change for a time, but not so but that those who were interressed in it, were conusant of it. Marcellus was the first that discovered it; and my Masters thoughts were so fixed on Cleopatra, that he heeded lit­tle besides. Marcellus found that Julia her carriage towards him was more cold than for­merly; he oftentimes asked the cause of it, but she being very subtill, never wanted a pretext [Page 98] to disguise the truth: She was unwilling to break off all correspondency with him, know­ing that she should thereby displease the Em­perour, and fearing his anger; and it may be he was not quite banished out of her thoughts: But this new impression which she had taken, if it did not quite deface the former, yet it wrought so on her, that she took no pleasure in his company, but all her delight consist­ed in the entertainment of Coriolan. One e­vening, as Marcellus was discoursing with her, he perceived that she was much given to mu­sing and melancholy: Madam, said he, will not your goodness favour me with the knowledge of that which hath so much troubled you of late, and am I not sufficiently interressed in your pleasures and discontents, for to know the cause of them? I see you muse, I hear you sigh, and I perceive on your countenance all the Symptomes of a discontented mind; Is it just, my Divine Princess, if I have any part in your thoughts, that I should remain longer ignorant of it? And if you have any ground of displeasure, will you not receive some con­solation by discoursing thereof with him who doth participate of them more than any body in the World besides. Julia comming to her self at this discourse of Marcellus, and look­ing very pleasantly on him, You know, said she very nimbly, we cannot be alwayes in the same humour, and that this change which you speak of may as well proceed from my natural temper, as any ground of affliction. I shall be­lieve, [Page 99] replyed Marcellus, much unsatisfied, all that you will have me, but all conjectures are deceitfull, if your natural temper can produce such effects which are quite contrary to your ordinary humour. You are very forward to believe, so it seems, replyed Julia, without so much as looking towards Marcellus; and ther­fore since you give so little credit to what I say, you may even satisfie your self with your conjectures, and trouble me no further with your discourse.

These brisk and cold replyes congealed the spirits of Marcellus, who looking on the Prin­cess with such a countenance as discovered in part his thoughts, Ah Madam, said he, what have I done, and which of my actions have merited your anger? You have given me no cause of anger, replyed the Princess, but me thinks you are very importunate to day; and therefore since you are as melancholy inclined as my self, I hope you will hold it conveni­ent that I seek out the company of some bo­dy who is more merrily disposed, and may divert are from that humour. She spake these words as she perceived my Master comming into the chamber, and he had not gone three steps, but she suddenly rose up from Marcellus, with a countenance suddenly changed from sadness to merriment, and went towards Co­riolan, and so leading him very freely to the other end of the chamber, she spent the rest of the evening in his company, without min­ding the condition in vvhich she left the dis­consolate [Page 100] Marcellus. This Prince, vvho vvas much troubled at her discourse, observed her follovving carriage vvith great displeasure; and although he did not then suspect any thing of my Master, yet this usage vvounded him to the heart, and thinking it impossible for him to dissemble his grief, he vvent out of the chamber vvithout speaking to any body. Since that time Julia played many such pranks, which gave occasion both to Marcellus and my Master to suspect a part of the truth; yet my Master did hardly believe the business; and though he had cause enough to have a good opinion of himself, yet he could hardly ima­gine that Julia should so rashly abandon such a person as Marcellus for one who loved her not. He had remained long in doubt, had not Julia after a thousand discoveries of her thoughts by her actions, freely expressed her mind in her discourse.

My Master having passed away the greatest part of a night in her chamber, in the com­pany of Maecenas, Agrippa, and many other Lords and Ladies; After the Princess had bid good night to the company, and they were all going, Julia caused Coriolan to be call'd back, pretending that she had forgotten to speak with him about a business of impor­tance. Coriolan gave ready obedience to her command, and being returned into her cham­ber, Julia, who was by this time retired to her bed-side, desired him to come and sit by her▪ When my Master was seated according to he [...] [Page 101] command, after that she had looked on him with such an action as was capable to inflame the most icie spirits; I know well, said she unto him, that I do you such an injury that you will not, it may be, pardon for some time; and I know that all the time you spend out of the company of the Princess Cleopatra is so tedious unto you, that you can scarce endure the company of any one besides.

I confess, replied my Master, that I am wholly at the devotion of Cleopatra, but yet I am not so blinded with passion, but that I can behave my self in the company of the Prin­cess Julia with that respect as doth become me, for the most powerful and passionate thoughts have their violence suspended whilst that a man hath the honour to be in her company.

This dissembling flattery, said Julia, I can by no means excuse; all that I do desire from you, is that you will freely and without arti­fice declare your self. Is it true which every body doth report, that you are so far prepos­sessed with passion for Cleopatra, that your eys are shut against any other object? and are your thoughts so solely taken up, and fixed on her, that nothing can divert them?

Those who make this report, replyed Cori­olan, doe speak as if they were in my own heart; and it's very true that there was never a free man so much at his own disposall, as I am at the command of the Princess Cleopatra.

I expected this confession from you, replied Julia, for its no other than what you have [Page 102] publickly professed, and it may be until now upon good grounds; but because I doe desire to know more of your secrets than any other, I do expect that you tell me truly whether you are so fixed on Cleopatra, that no other consideration can make you alter your resolu­tion. I cannot be ignorant, but do know well, that your condition cannot be other than glo­rious in matching with so fair a Princess; but if the Gods should so order it, that ano­ther might be found, which would prove of greater advantage unto you, should you be so blinded with your former passion, that you could not discern the conveniency of a greater fortune?

I shall not easily believe, replyed Coriolan, that a man can meet with a more advantagi­ous fortune than that which is had in the glo­ry of serving Cleopatra; and although others, it may be, more blind than my self, might dif­fer in opinion from me, I will never trouble my self with their conceits; neither shall I desire whilst I live a more glorious conditi­on than to spend my self wholly in the service of that adorable Princess.

How, said Julia? suppose you were loved by a Princess altogether as beautifull as Cleo­patra, and one who surpasseth her in all things else, such a one as is in rank above all o­thers, and can restore you to your lost inheri­tance, or it may be a greater, would you con­temn such a one for Cleopatra?

I should have little reason replied my Master to [Page 103] contemn such a person as you represent unto me, and it should not be out of contempt that I should be insensible of so great a favour; but though a greater yet were offered me, I should never fail of fidelity to my Princess. But what if Julia, added the Princess (over-coming her shame which checked the freedom of her discourse) if Julia her self should love you, would you sleight her for Cleopatra? These words wrought the same effect on them both, for as Julia vvas enforced to look dovvnvvards, so Coriolan (who little expected such language from such a Princess as Julia) was so amazed, that for some time he could not look on her, but at last lest he should confound her the more by his silence, Madam said he, I know not how to reply to your question, since I know it to be a mockery, to which I am not obliged to an­swer: but said Julia, if that which you call a mockery were a truth, how would you receive it, and how would you treat the daughter of Caesar if she should go about to banish out of your thoughts the daughter of Antony? Coriolan seeing himself so hard put to it, chose rather to follow the inclinations of his conscience and vertue, than of complying at that time; and so af­ter he had paused a while for to resolve on an answer, Madam said he, at the last, although I ought not so rashly to declare my self, yet since you have commanded me so to do, I shall plain­ly tell you; that if I might have that fortune which you speak off, I should be the most un­fortunate of all men, because I am uncapable [Page 104] of the enjoyment of it, not onely in regard of my fidelity to Cleopatra, but in regard of the friendship which is between my self and Mar­cellus, who only doth merit the affections of the Princess Julia, and who I would not de­prive of them for all the greatest happiness in the world. When my master had thus opened himself, Julia was so much troubled, that for some time she knew not what to reply, but at length she overcame her displeasure, and look­ing disdainfully on my Master, you have reason said she to take my discourse for a mockery, and indeed it was so Coriolan, and it shall not be for the sake of Julia that you shall be obli­ged to betray the friendship of Marcellus or your love to Cleopatra. I was willing to try you, and shall upon the experience which I have had of your faithfullness to your mistress and Friends, much more prize you than formerly. My Master well observed with what constraint she uttered those words, after which she entred on a discourse of another business, but finding her self in great disorder and confusion, she thou ht it convenient to bid goodnight to Co­riolan: my Master went away better informed of the inclinations of Julia than he desired; for though for madness she seemed in conclusion to retract what she had too freely discovered, yet my Prince was not so dull of apprehension, but that he clearly saw the end she drove at: he did me the honor to tell me afterwards, that never any thing that hapned to him during all his [Page 105] life did so much trouble him as this business, not only in regard of his disability to requite the affections of Julia, but especially for the interest of his Friend Marcellus, whom he per­ceived to be lightly shook off, and for which cause he forsaw great discontents which would arise from the inconstancie of that Princess: however he was unwilling to tell his Friend such bad news, but expected that Julia should either change her humor, or that Marcellus should hear his misfortune from some other. He had the discretion to keep it from Cleopatra, as well because he would not shame the daughter of Caesar who was loved by his Friend, as also for that he would not seem to boast himself in the relation of such a story. But in the mean time he waived all opportunities of seeing her alone, which the Princess perceiving, for anger she was like to have lost her love for him; and although it wrought not so full an effect, Yet she dissembled the matter so well, that she ne­ver gave him other than cold entertainment: my Master on the other side carried himself with the same respect as formerly, onely he seldom gave her a visit but in company: Julia seemed to remain satisfied for a time, and mee­ting him one day in a gallery in Livia's lodg­ings, although he was in company with two or three Friends, she said en passant, Coriolan, presumption is oftentimes prejudiciall, you lately conceived a jesting discourse to be spoken seriously; I pray undeceive your self, and do [Page 106] not believe so easily that which is improbable and irrationall; my Master had returned her an answer had she staid to hear it, but she went away with so great hast, that he had not time, but remained a little troubled at her boldness, although he was well satisfied and pleased with her language. Julia persever'd for some time in this negligent and indifferent carriage to­wards him, but at length she having not a spi­rit capable of receiving violence, she fell into a relapse; her inclinations prevailed against her choler, and she suffered her eyes to disco­ver her self so far that Coriolan saw her anger was gone, yet he did shut his eyes against her looks, as he stopped his eares against her discourse, and in all his actions so demeaned himself, that if she had not had a very bold spirit, she could not have had the assurance to discover the continuance of her passion: she repented her self for what she had spoken, when as she see­med to revoke her first declaration, and being desirous to repair that fault one day vvhen she met him in the Emperor's lodgings, she accosted him near a windovv, from vvhence the rest of the company out of respect retired, and leaning her head tovvards him in a languishing posture with a soft voice, Coriolon said she, pray do not think any longer that you vvere jested vvith, but that you heard vvhat vvas true: my Master vvas somevvhat surprized vvith this discourse, but not so much but he readily ansvvered, Madam said he unto her, I doe novv so vvell under­stand you, that I cannot be any longer deceived, [Page 107] and therefore since this sport doth so much de­light you, I should be very unwilling to debar you from any contentment that you can have by it. Julia was very sorry that she put so good weapons into my Masters hands for to defend himself against her; but having neither time nor opportunity to explain her self by her discourse, she contented her self with letting him know by her amorous looks that it was not in jest, but in sober sadness that she had declared to him her thoughts; however my Ma­ster pretended ignorance, and seemed to take all discourse and behaviour as spoken and done by way of Raillierie. But during this time, my Master, as he owed her much respect in regard of her birth, and the love which Mar­cellus had for her, entertained her with his wonted civility; and for the same considera­tions, being unwilling to dis-oblige her, was enforced oftentimes to hearken unto her; at which times she gave him so many publick as­surances of her love, that there were very few who frequented her company, and did not take notice of them.

Marcellus, who was herein most of all in­terressed, did more firmly believe it than a­ny body besides, for that receiving every day such harsh usage from Julia, which sufficient­ly evidenced her change, He was so far blin­ded with his passion, that he believed not on­ly that Julia loved Coriolan, but also that she was beloved by him. This belief wrought sud­denly such an effect on him, that it was like [Page 108] to have cost him his life; and when he refle­cted on those testimonies of his affection which he had given Coriolan, he could not think on the ingratitude wherewith he conceived he was paid, without falling into a mortall grief: His cruel jealousie made him for a time shun the company of his unfaithfull Friend, and to covet solitariness in the most retired pla­ces, where he deplored his misfortune in the most pitifull manner that may be thought on. My Master, who was not able to continue long without seeing him, sought diligently after him, and understanding that he was one day retired all alone into the walks of the Palace-garden, which is situated on the River Tiber, went after him, and after some time found him lying on a bank in one of the most private corners of the garden. As my Master came to him, he rose up hastily, and looked so scur­vily, that my Prince was much troubled to see him. Marcellus, said he unto him, how hath this change happened? What sadness is that which you discover? Why doe you fly from the company of him who loveth you more dearly than any body besides. Marcel­lus at this discourse of my Master shook his head, without giving him any further answer, and continued with his eyes fixed on the ground, as if he had been in a great confusion. Coriolan being thereat more sensibly touched than before, imbraced him, and desired him to hide from him no longer the cause of his sorrow. But Marcellus, after he had continu­ed [Page 109] a while in the same posture, brake from my Master, and being gone about 5. or 6. pa­ces distant from him, he drew out his sword, and presenting the hilt of it to my Master, Co­riolan, said he unto him, since thou hast shew­ed thy self to be the most unfaithful friend that ever lived; and since thou hast so cruelly de­ceived me in the opinion that I had of thy vertue, crown thy crime with my death, and pierce with this sword, that I here offer thee, the heart of that unfortunate friend, who most unhappily trusted to thy friendship; for after what thou hast already done, thou mayst not stick to do it, and this last cruell act will not be so blame-worthy as thy former. Marcellus spake after this sort, and my Master, notwith­standing he was somewhat surprized with his carriage, recovered himself so soon, that he seemed not to be amazed thereat, but looking on Marcellus in a very cold and serious po­sture; since I am that false and treacherous Friend, who with so much treachery and base­ness hath betrayed thy friendship, why dost thou not thrust that sword which thou pre­sentest unto me through my breast; the heart of that treacherous Friend ought to suffer, and not the betrayed and innocent Friend. My Master as he spake, held his arms crossed over his breast, and looked on Marcellus with so great assurance, that any one yet more prepos­sessed with passion, might discern his inno­cencie.

But Marcellus, who was transported with [Page 110] jealousie, could not be so soon undeceived; but yet he was so mollified with my Masters dis­course and action, that instead of adhering to his opinion, he discovered by his shedding of tears some marks of relenting; and suffer­ing himself to fall back on a bank that was neer him, Ah Coriolan, said he, should I ever have thought that you would have ruined me; and did not I make you sufficient satisfaction in quitting Cleopatra to you, but that I must likewise leave Julia for you? I had never endeavoured to love her, had it not been for to leave the Princess Cle­opatra, whom I loved far above my self: My in­clinations became afterwards accommodated to the design which I had to please you, and the Gods for to reward my good intentions, had given me abundance of delight in that af­fection in which I at the first proceeded for to give you content; and when as by time and my diligent service, I had wrought some good impression on that inconstant Princess, you be­reave me of her with that cruelty as doth not become you, and you have thereby reduced me to such a condition, as I must not onely quit Cleopatra and Julia, but my own life al­so, which I am about to sacrifise to my despair.

Marcellus had continued on his discourse, if his sighs had not cut off his words, and my Master who heard with a displeasure little dif­ring from his, after that he had wiped off those tears from his eyes, which he could not refrain from shedding, Marcellus, said he unto him; your condition is now such that I shal not make [Page 111] it my work to complain of the injury which you have don me, for that ill opinion which you have of me is enough to excuse all the wrong which you have don me. But for my comfort, I can justifie my self throughout, had I not loved Marcellus, yet I love Cleopatra too well to quit her for Julia; or had I not loved Cleopatra, yet I love Marcellus so well that I should never in­terfear with his pretensions; you have forc'd me now to tell you that which discretion and respect do command me to keep secret, and if Julia hath shewed some lightness the Gods are my witnesses that I never favoured it: in two things nevertheless my dear Marcellus, I do acknowledge my self very unfortunate, the one is, for that your friendship hath not been strong enough to defend me against your cruell and unjust suspitions; the other is, for that I am not able or in a condition to give you the like testimonies of my affections as I received for­merly from you; for in ceasing to love Cle­opatra for my sake, you offered violence to the passion which you had for her, but if I should forsake the company of Julia, and forbear to visit her for your sake, I should but forsake such a one who (if your interests were laid a­side) I should very litttle regard: I would to God I had the like affection for the daughter of Augustus (if it might be consistent with my fidelity to Cleopatra, as you had once for the daughter of M. Antony, then should I have a better occasion (than now I am like to have in leaving a person which I doe not love) to shew [Page 203] you that my affection is not inferior to yours. All that I can doe in discharge of my duty for your contentment, is to quit, not my affection, (for that would be impossible for me, and no way beneficiall unto you) but the sight of Cle­opatra, that so I may be absent from Julia where my presence is so offensive un o you. Whilst my Master spake in this sort, Marcellus who was not yet free'd from his grief, found nevertheless his suspitions to vanish, and considering right­ly his free and faithfull carriage, as also his great affection for Cleopatra, of which he gave every day many visible testimonies, he concei­ved that he might be innocent, and then chang­ing his opinon upon these reasons, and his af­fection towards him, he began to be angry with himself for that he had suspected him, and then imbracing him about the neck in a ve­ry compassionate posture, Pardon my dear brother said he, pardon I pray you the offence which you have received from a troubled spirit by reason of his misfortunes, I ought certainly to have known you better, but for my excuse I must tell you that I have as well forgotten my self as my Friends, and in the condition that I am now in, I have not the use of my own reason; I do no way doubt your readiness to give me the most difficult testimonies of your affection, but I will never agree to those which you offer me, and I will rather endure any thing than permit you to ab­sent your self from Cleopatra, that so you may avoid the company of Julia, rather let the [Page 113] Gods perpetually debar me from repose, than that I should purchase it with the loss of yours; and let me be rather eternally slight­ed by Julia, than recourt her affections by your displeasures. I shall never be much troubled for enduring somewhat for my Friend, replyed the Son of Juba, neither will my misfortune be so great as you imagine, if in absenting my self from Cleopatra, I doe increase my own glory and repute; neither indeed is it fitting that a Prince descended from a great Race of Kings, should spend the flower of his Age here in idleness; and since it hath been the pleasure of the Gods to leave me onely a Sword, and to out me of all the glory which our Fami­ly enjoyed, it will be necessary, that by it I should endeavour to regain our lost Fame; I cannot expect to recover that by force which the Romans have taken from me, they are pos­sessed by so strong a power that it will be impossible to shake it; and although I might have thoughts of that kind, yet the obligati­ons which I have received from the Emperour, would hinder me from attempting any thing against him; however I may possibly so far oblige the great Caesar with my Services, and having spent my bloud, and adventured my life for his Interest, I may chance to merit that from his goodness, which Fortune berea­ved me of ere I was born. During this time, the Princess Julia, who to speak truly is som­what unconstant, will lose those impressions which to my misfortune as well as yours, she hath received, and your presence here assisted [Page 114] with your wisedome, and her discretion, which will increase with her yeares, will quickly disperse those slight Ideas, which as yet are scarce formed.

The Prince spake much more to this pur­pose, and Marcellus hearing him with pati­ence, For any thing which concerneth me, said he unto him, I shall never give my con­sent that you should abandon a place where you are detained by so just and noble a passi­on; but for that which concerneth your Glo­ry, and the establishment of your dignity, I shall close with you, and joyn my interest with yours, being always willing to hazard my life to do you service. These two Princes had un­doubtedly continued on their discourse, had they not espied a great company of La­dies walking in the Ally towards them, of which number were the Princess Octavia, Cle­opatra, Emilia, Sulpitia, and divers others of the chiefest of the Court, as they came neer to the Banquetting-house, they discovered the two Princes, who went to meet them. The Princess Octavia having blamed their melan­choly humour, asked them whether they would accompany them? There were not many men with them; but those that were there, out of respect gave way to the Princes. Marcellus, for to oblige his Friend, entertained the Prin­cess Octavia, and Coriolan led Cleopatra; they spent some time in walking, but kept at such distance from each other, that they might free­ly discourse. Cleopatra observing some marks of trouble on Coriolan his countenance, which [Page 115] were not usuall, what is the matter Coriolan, (said she) that you are so sad? what new dis­pleasure is it that troubleth you? may I with­out offence desire to know the cause of your sadness? It is difficult for me Madam, replied the Prince, to shew a cheerfull countenance, when so great a displeasure attends me; there is a necessity, Madam, that I doe leave your company, which is as much as to pull me from my self; and I cannot offer so great vi­olence to my self, without discovering sadness on my countenance: I am ashamed, Madam, to see my self your servant thus long, and yet a man without glory and ambition; for since I have had so much as to cast my eyes on you, I should have so much as might make me wor­thy of you. I should not rest satisfied with the Title of a Prince, but endeavour by my valour to attain to that dignity of which Fortune hath bereaved me of; for to live a private man in Rome, and to be a servant to Cleopa­tra, in my opinion are things incompatible. I cannot oppose wholly (replied the Princess) this design which you have proposed for your advancement, since you have been already so fortunate in matters of that kind that I can­not but hope for to hear of your good success; and though your company be as dear unto me as you can wish, yet I shall be willing to be deprived of it for a while, in hopes of seeing you (by means of your wisedome and courage) established in your Fathers Throne. It's not because you are less in my esteem whilst you are destitute of those Honours, than when [Page 116] you shall possess them; For the same For­tune which hath ill treated you, hath not dealt any better with us, but hath sufficient­ly humbled us, that we may not despise those Princes which She hath stripped; but since she hath not prevailed against your cou­rage, but that you are prompted by her to follow the footsteps of your Ancestors, I shall endeavour to allay the displeasure for your absence with this consideration, that I am confident you were born for great underta­kings, and that unless your Destiny prove contrary, I may expect any thing from your valour and courage.

But Coriolan, although this be a sufficient ground for to make you to leave me, yet confess that this is not the onely cause which drives you hence, but that there is some o­ther reason which moveth you so expediti­ously to take up this resolution.

The respect which I owe you (answered the Prince) will not suffer me to conceal any thing from you, and neither modesty, nor discretion can excuse that which my obe­dience exacts from me. It is very true Ma­dam, since it's your pleasure that I should discover unto you the whole truth, that it's to quiet my Friend that I have resolved to hasten my journey; for being so unfortu­nate as to grieve him by my presence, I shall quit his company for a time, and du­rig my absence attempt such exploits, as may render me more worthy of your sight.

I understand you sufficiently (replyed the Prin­cess) [Page 117] and I think you will not blush if I do tell you that you are beloved by the Princess Julia. I doe not believe, said the Prince modest­ly, that I am loved by her; but the misfor­tune of Marcellus and my self is such, that the light Princess, seeking an object on which she might exercise her inconstancie, hath ad­dressed her self to me rather than to any other. I imagined so much (replied the princess) long since, but I did forbear to tell you my thoughts, out of fear to disturb you in the satisfaction which you might have in being believed, and sought after by so fair a princess.

It is so great, replied coldly, Coriolan, that I am not able to bear the weight of it, and for this cause I shall fly to the remotest parts of the World, that I may shelter my self a­gainst it, if I cannot otherwise avoid it.

You are very cruell, replied the Prin­cess, with an action both gracefull and ma­jestick, and if you doe treat Julia, who is a princess not onely beautifull, but other­wise well accomplished with so much con­tempt, what entertainment shall those finde with you to whom neither Nature nor Fortune hath been so liberall?

She who I adore, replied my prince, hath received so much from nature as she could bestow on her, and Fortune hath never been able to bereave her of that which giveth her the preheminence above others.

I am very joyfull, said the princess, that your blindness makes you have so good an opinion of me; and though I am not such [Page 118] a one as you describe me, yet I am conten­ted to appear so in your eyes and esteem. She uttered these words in so sweet a tone, and in such an obliging manner, that my prince was quite ravished with the hearing of them, so that wringing her hand, which he held with great fervencie, O Friendship, said he, O Honour, how doe yee oppose my quiet and content? How sweet and pleasing would it be unto me to spend all my dayes at the feet of my adorable princess, if yee would permit me so to do?

He had said more, had he not been interrupted by the comming of the two young princes, Alexander and Ptolomy, who having saluted the rest of the company, went towards Coriolan, and their Sister Cleopatra▪ These two young princes had a great affe­ction for my Master, but for that many o­ther noble Romans joyned themselves with them at that time, my Master had not an op­portunity to discourse on the former subject. The day following there happened such an accident in Rome, which made so great a hurry, that I believe you cannot but have heard some­what of it during your residence there, which hastened my Master's Voyage, and made his undertaking more honorable than he expected.

There lived at that time in Rome a cer­tain Mathematician, called Trasillus, who by reason of his great skill in judiciall A­strologie had acquired a great repute amongst the Courtiers, and other principall men of the City. Alas, cryed Tiridate, inter­rupting [Page 119] Aemilius, that mans name is known by me, and I doe so well remember his prediction concerning me, which hath hi­therto proved true, that I may well expect the conclusion of it.

This Trasili [...]s, then replyed Aemilius, of whose Art you have had experience, was very often with Tyberius, whose thoughts be­ing fixed on his love, and other ambitious pretensions, was very desirous to hear some flattering prognostication concerning him: This day, as I said, Tyberius and my Ma­ster met each other in a Gallery of the pa­lace, where the Nobility and Gentry did u­sually walk untill the time that the Empe­rour used to goe abroad; and although their jealousie had extinguished all the sparks of friendship that had been formerly between them, and especially on the part of Tyberi­us, yet they did not publiquely declare their enmitie. My Master concealed his out of respect to the Empress Livia; and Tyberius, who was an Artist in dissembling, for other consi­derations so covered his, that he seemed many times to talk very kindly with Coriolan.

Shall we (sayd he to my Master (enquire after our fortunes from Trasillus? And at the same time calling Trasillus unto him, and shewing him the Prince of Mauritanie, Come, sayd he, tell us what fortune shall befall us?

This Trasillus had seen my Prince often­times, and knew well his Age, and the time of his Nativity, and all other circumstan­ces on which he used to ground his con­jectures, [Page 120] and of Tyberius his condition he was better informed; but though he had formerly told Tyberius much of his destiny, but had never spoken any thing concerning my Master, by reason of his little curiosity in matters of that kind, but then having earnestly beheld them for some time; If my Art doth not deceive me, sayd he, you shall be both very great men and happy in your desires, but diversly, the one in his love, the other in his ambition; and since you do not desire a more particular knowledge, I do assure you on my life, that one of you shall enjoy that person wch both of you do love, and the other shall live to be feared in the highest place of the World. This discourse of Trasillus, who had gain­ed much credit by his predictions, was se­conded with an acclamation of all the com­pany; but for the two Princes, to whom it was spoken, looked on each other for some time without speaking one word.

My Master was the first who brake the si­lence; for having well considered with him­self what was spoken by Trasillus; For the enjoyment of what I love, sayd he, I would willingly resign the Empire of the whole World, and having that only, I will ne­ver envy the good fortune of my Corrivall. This language was both civill and loving, yet Tyberius spake after another fashion, for although hee could command his passions when he pleased, yet being then puffed up with a vain presumption, did not contain himself, but spake in this sort.

I do pretend, said he, to the enjoyment of Cleopatra, and yet I will not renounce the Emperiall dignity, and I think there is no man living that deserveth them better than my self. My Master, hearing this language, was very sensible not onely of his interest, in relation to Cleopatra, but also to Marcellus (who by the desire of the Romans, the intention of Caesar, and his own right, might more justly pretend to the Empire than Tyberius, as in­deed he was designed for it before him) yet he could no longer dissemble his passion, al­though for some considerations he had en­deavoured to bridle it, but looking disdain­fully on Tyberius, I know not what you are born to, or what your deserts are, but I hope you will fail of your reputation of gaining either the Empire or Cleopatra. And who is he that will dispute with me for them? (reply­ed Tyberius, who was much incensed) shall it be a plundered African, whose pretensions shall be more just, or better favoured than mine? As for what concerns the Empire, replyed my Master, Rome hath persons enough more fit and worthy to govern it than thy self; but for Cleo­patra, that African who thou sayest is plunder'd and dispoyled, yet is he the son of a King, and not of a sneeking Citizen as thou art; and such a one, whom Fortune hath not berea­ved of those advantages which he hath above thee, both by his birth and vertue, but that he is in a condition to dispute with thee for her. My Master had no sooner spoken these words, but both he and Tyberius began to draw [Page 122] forth their swords; for though the respect which they should have had to the place where they were, should have obliged them to a more civill carriage, yet that consideration would not have stayed them, had not the com­pany interposed themselves, and kept them at such a distance from each other, that they could not follow their resentments. Upon the noise of this hurliburly, all the Courtiers gathered together in parties; but though that of Tyberius was the greatest, by reason of the authority of the Empress his Mother, and his Alliances in the City; yet notwithstanding, the credit of Marcellus, and those other friends which my Master by his vertue had gained, was such, that he had a party both for num­ber and power not much inferior to the o­ther; which may seem very strange, when you do consider the great suit of attendance which hath alwaies and doth still accompany Tybe­rius, but it is very true that my Master, though he was a stranger in Rome, yet was he able to make head against the sonne of Livia, the Druces, the Suspitians, the Metellians, and many other Families adhered to Tyberius; but Marcellus, the noble Agrippa, the children of Mark Antony, the Fabii, the Catoes, and many other noble Families among the Romans, were firm to the interest of Coriolan, this num­ber of friends who flocked together, and rank­ed themselves on two sides, manifested the credit which both of them had, but the Em­peror having heard of the quarrell, the same day, and having understood the truth of it [Page 123] from Agrippa and Mecenus (one of which was a declared friend of my Masters, and the o­ther was one who did much esteem him for his vertues) sent immediately for them, that he might make a reconcilement between them; this favour was not ordinary, but be­sides his willingness to do this honour to his Wives sonne, and a Prince so well born and accomplished as Coriolan, he conceived that for the prevention of a greater mischief, which might happen, by reason of the diffe­rence between two such important persons, his authority was absolutely necessary. Its very true, that by reason of the solicitation of Livia, who inveighed highly to the Empe­ror against the boldness of Coriolan, and the little respect which he shewed to the wife of Caesar, made him favour Tiberius; but be­sides the credit of Marcellus and Agrippa, which prevailed much with Augustus, the Procedure of Coriolan, which seemed to con­cur with the intentions of the Emperor, in rebuking the boldness of Tyberius, and con­demning his pretensions to the Empire, made him resolve to give them a fair and equall hearing. They both presented themselves before the Emperor with a great train of at­tendance; but when he had heard them se­verally, and had sharply rebuked Tyberius for discovering his pretensions to the Empire, and my Prince for slighting so much a per­son whose Mother he had maried, he com­manded them to embrace each other. My Master disposed himself for to give obedience [Page 124] to his commands; but before he performed it, addressing himself to the Emperor, with a Majestick boldness, My Lord, said he, I do receive your command with all due respect, but for to shew my readiness to comply with your Majesties desires, I shall propose, if you think fit, a medium, which may prevent all occasions of future quarrelling between Ty­berius and my self; we do both of us bear an affection to the Princess Cleopatra, and it will be a hard matter for us, during this con­currence, to lay any foundation of friendship between us: If this Princess ought to be the reward of our services, Let your Majesty be pleased to order that by them only we may dispute for it, and not by any other means, which will be so far below such a prize as Cleopatra: I am contented, as I have former­ly done, for to take up Arms, and adventure my life amongst the Roman Armies: And if your Majesty shall please to give me an employment in which I may do somewhat remarkable for the glory of the Empire, I shall endeavour to let you see, that though I am born of African parents, yet I can serve you with as much fidelity and courage as any who is born a Roman. Let Tyberius do the same; and since the service of his Country may be linked to the interest of his love, let him endeavour amidst perillous oc­casions, to merit Cleopatra. Let this favour be onely bestowed on him, who shall most deserve it by his valour; I will willingly quit her, and my life also, if in that way Tybe­rius [Page 125] shall gain any advantage over me, and I hope that those advantages, which Fortune hath already given him, will not be sufficient for to make you give him, that prize, which ought only to be purchased with the effusion of his blood, and other eminent services. My Ma­ster had no sooner spoken these words, but Ty­berius who was as forward as himself, spake as followeth.

I do freely consent, sayd he, to the Pro­position of Coriolan, and if the Emperor shall so please, I am contented that we dispute for Cleopatra by our valour onely, I am willing to go into those Armies which do fight for the de­fence and enlargement of the Empire, and if the Emperor shall think me worthy of any com­mand, I shall let him see, in fighting for his ser­vice, that it is by means of my valour that I can merit from him such a recompence as Cleopatra. The discourse of these two young Princes was so pleasing to the Emperour, that he declared his consent to the Proposition, and promised that he only should enjoy the Princess Cleopatra who in the service of the publick should give the most eminent marks of their valour. My Master was exceeding joyfull at the hearing of this declaration of Augustus; and indeed Tybe­rius (who to speak truly, was both noble and valiant) did not seem less satisfied. The Empe­rour bethought himself of employments for them; and as Fortune would have it, there was as good occasion offered as they could wish for.

Terentius Varro, and Titus Carisius com­manded the Army which warred at that time [Page 126] against the Asturians, who had a while be­fore rebelled. But the Souldiers not enduring the insupportable behaviour of Varro, the Em­perous was enforced to recall him from that Service; and because Carisius, in regard of his bodily infirmities, was not in a condition to supply his place, the Emperour was obliged to send a Commander in the room of Varro, who until then had the command, in regard of Ca­risius his indisposition. On the other side, the war continuing in Dalmatia, and he who com­manded the Army there being accidentally slain, the souldiers did send for a new General. These two charges were, after some considera­tions, given to the two young rivall Princes, with equall hopes of their good management. My Master was appointed to march against the Asturians, in the place of Varro; and Tyberius (who truly though he was a young man, yet truly had he given great testimonies of his va­lour) was designed for the carrying on of the war in Dalmatia. These two Princes being well pleased with their employments, were very di­ligent in preparing for their march, and by their mutual emulation, they overcame the dis­pleasure which they had for quitting the com­pany of Cleopatra. Marcellus, who was as am­bitious of glory as the other two, was very in­stant with the Emperor to give him some em­ployment: but he resolving to keep him with him, flattered him with hopes of a certain great expedition which he intended to make; and my Master (earnestly desiring him to stay some time with Julia, that so he might endeavour to reduce [Page 127] her to her former inclinations) was so succes­full, that he disposed him to spend some time in Rome. I shall not speak any thing of the prepa­ration of these two Princes for their voyages; neither shal I mention any thing of the displea­sure which my Masters intended absence gave to Julia, or what discourse passed between them, when he met her by accident, or when he took his leave of her; for I being desirous to hasten to those matters which are of greater importance, I shall only tell you, that the day of their de­parture being come, and they having received the Emperours orders, went severally to the Princess for to take their leaves of her. I know not well what discourse passed between her and Tyberius; but for my Master, he expressed the violence of his passion, & received such answers from the Princess, as gave him great cause of sa­tisfaction. It is not Madam, said he, after many other expressions, it's not your affection that I am now going about to dispute for by my valour with Tiberius, that is such a price which we cannot aspire unto by the loss of all our bloud that ought to be pur­chased by Services done to your self onely, and not by those which doe concern the in­terest of the Empire; but it is the Favour of Augustus, which by some glorious acti­ons I shall endeavour, if it be possible, to gain. And since your Fortune hath subje­cted you to such a power, that although I have your consent, yet it is from him that I must expect the compleating of my happi­ness. I hope that you will think it meet, that [Page 128] I adventure the shedding of my bloud for his interest, that I may give him occasion to consi­der my services as much as the solicitations of Livia. Yes Coriolan, replied the Princess, I do think it convenient, and for to confirm you in the opinion which you have, that you are not going to dispute with Tyberius for my affecti­ons, I doe assure you that you shall have the advantage against him, whatsoever the success of your voyage may be, for the most glorious Victories that Tyberius may get, shall never make me to alter my inclinations; you have already so great an interest in them, that there's no hopes left for him, and so much I shall de­clare with willingness, so long as it may stand with my reputation so to do. I shall not inlarge my self any further on their discourse, neither do I judge it necessary to cloy you with unifor­mity, where the subject affords such variety. In fine therefore, when he had made a thousand protestations at her feet of his eternall fidelity, and had received from her a confirmation of those sweet hopes which she gave him, my Prince took his leave of her with such satisfa­ction, as sweetned in part the regreet which he had to part from her. About an hour after he mounted on horseback, being attended by ma­ny of his Friends, who bore him company di­vers daies journeys, and having at last dismis­sed those who were not to goe throughout the Voyage, we with the rest went through Gaul, and those other Provinces which lay in our way to the Country of the Asturians.

FINIS.

Courteous Reader These Bookes fol­lowing are printed for Humphrey Moseley, and are to be sold at his Shop at the Prince's Armes in St. Paul's Church-yard.

Various Histories, with curious Discourses in Humane Learning, &c.

1 THe Historie of the Banished Ʋirgin, a Romance, translated by I. H. Esquire in Fol.

2 The Historie of Polexander, a Romance, Englished by William Brown Gent. Printed for T. W. and are to be sold by Humphrey Moseley, in Fol.

3 The use of passions, written by J. F. Senalt, and put into English by Henry Earle of Monmouth, in 8o.

4 Mr. James Howels History of Lewis the thir­teenth, King of France, with the life of his Cardinal de Richelieu, in Fol.

5 Mr. Howels Epistolae Ho-Elianae, Familiar Letters, Domestic and Forren, in sixe Sections, partly Histori­call, Politicall, Philosophicall, first Volume with Addi­tions in 8o. 1650.

6 Mr. Howels New volume of Familiar Letters, Partly Historicall, Politicall, Philosophicall, the second Volume with many Additions. 1650.

7 Mr. Howels third Volume of Additionall Letters of a fresher date, never before published, in 8o 1650.

8 Mr. Howels Dodona's Grove, or the Vocall For­rest, first part in 12o with many Additions. 1650.

9 Mr. Howels Dodona's Grove, or the Ʋocall For­rest, second part in 8o never printed before. 1650.

10 Mr. Howels Englands Teares for the present wars.

11 Mr Howel of the Pre-eminence and Pedegree of Parliament, in 12o 1650.

12 Mr. Howels Instructions and Directions for For­ren Travels, in 120 with divers Additions for Travel­ling into Turkey and the Levant parts. 1650.

13 Mr Howels Vote, or a Poem Royall presented to [Page] his Majesty in 4o.

14 Mr Howels Angliae Suspiria & lacrymae in 12o.

15 Policy unvailed, or Maximes of State, done into English by the Translator of Gasman in 4o.

16 The Historie of the Inquisition, composed by the R. F. Paul Servita, the compiler of the History of the Councell of Trent, in 4o.

17 Biathanatos, a Paradox of Self-homicide, by Dr Jo. Donne, Deane of St. Pauls London, in 4o.

18 Marques Virgillio Malvezzi's Romulus and Tar­quin, Englished by Hen. Earle of Monmouth, in 12o.

19 Marques Virgillio Malvezzi's David persecuted, Englished by Ro. Ashley, Gent. in 12o.

20 Marques Virgillio Malvezzi, of the successe and chief events of the Monarchy of Spaine, in the yeare 1639. of the revolt of the Catalonians, from the King of Spain. Englished by Rob. Gentilis Gent. in 12o.

21 Marques Virgillio Malvezzi's considerations on the lives of Alcibiades and Coriolanus, Englished by Robert Gentilis Gent. in 12o. newly printed 1650.

22 Gracious priviledges granted by the King of Spaine to our English Merchants, in 4o.

23 The Historie of Life and Death, or the prolon­gation of Life, written by Francis Lord Ʋerulam, Vis­count St. Alban. in 12o.

24 The Antipathy between the French and the Spanyard, translated out of Spanish, in 12o.

25 Mr. Birds grounds of Grammer, in 8o.

26 Mr. Bulwers Philocophus, or the Deafe and Dumbe mans friend, in 12o.

27 Mr. Bulwers Pathomyotomia, or the Dissection of the significative Muscles of the Affections of the Mind, in 12o.

28 An Itinerary containing a voyage made through Italy in the yeares 1646, 1647. illustrated with divers Figures of Antiquity, never before published, by John Raymond, Gent in 12o.

Severall Sermons, with other excellent Tracts in Divinity, written by some most eminent, and learned Bishops, and Orthodox Divines.

29 A Manuall of private Devotions and Meditations for every day in the weeke, by the right reverend Father in God, Lancelot Andrewes, late Lord Bishop of Winchester, in 24o. newly printed.

30 A Manuall of Directions for the Sick, with many sweet Meditations and Devotions, by the right reverend Father in God, Lancelot Andrewes, late Lord Bishop of Winchester, in 24o. newly printed.

31 Ten Sermons upon severall occasions, preached at St. Pauls Crosse, and elsewhere, by the right reverend Father in God, Arthur Lake, late Bishop of Bath and Wells, in 4o.

32 Six Sermons upon severall occasions, preached at Court before the Kings Majesty, and elsewhere, by that late learned and reverend Divine, John Donne, Dr in Divinity, and Deane of St. Pauls London, in 4o.

33 A Key to the Key of Scripture, or an exposition with notes upon the Epistle to the Romans, the three first chapters by William Sclater, Doctor in Divinity and Minister of the word of God at Pitmister in Somer­setshire.

34 Pretious promises and priviledges of the faith­full, written by Richard Sibbs, Dr in Divinity, late Ma­ster of Katherine Hall in Cambridge, and Preacher of Grayes Inne London, in 12o.

35 Sarah and Hagar, or the sixteenth Chapter of Ge­nesis, opened in ninteene Sermons, being the fist legiti­mate Essay of the pious labours of that learned Ortho­dox, and indefatigable Preacher of the Gospel, Mr. Jo­sias Shute. B. D. and above 33 yeares Rector of St Ma­ry Woolnoth in Lombardstreet, in Folio.

[Page]36 Christs Teares, with his love and affection towards Jerusalem, delivered in sundry Sermons upon Luke 19 v. 41, 42. by Richard Maiden, B. D. Preacher of the Word of God, late of Magdalen Colledge in Camb.

37 Ten Sermons preached upon severall Sundayes, and Saints dayes, by Peter Hausted, Mr in Arts, and Curate at Vppingham in Rutland, in 4o.

38 Eighteene Sermons preached upon the Incarna­tion and Nativity of our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, wherein the greatest mysteries of Godlinesse are unfolded, to the capacity of the weakest Christian, by Iohn Dawson, Oxon. in 4o.

39 The History of the Defenders of the Faith, dis­coursing the state of Religion in England during the Raigne of King Henry 8. Edward 6. Queen Mary, and Queene Elizabeth. by C. L.

40 Christian Divinity, written by Edmund Reeve, Bachelour in Divinity, in 4o.

41 The Communion Booke Catechisme expounded by Edmund Reeve Batchelour in Divinity in 4o.

42 The true and absolute Bishop, wherein is shewed how Christ is our onely Shepheard, and Bishop of our soules, by Nicholas Darton, Master in Arts, in 4o.

43 A description of the New-borne Christian, or a lively patterne of the Saint militant, child of God, writ­ten by Nicholas Hunt, Master in Arts, in 4o.

44 Divine Meditations upon the 91. Psalme, and on the History of Agag, King of Amalek, with an Essay of Friendship, written by an honorable person, in 12o.

45 An Historicall Anatomy of Christian Melancho­ly, by Edmund Gregory. Oxon. in 8o.

46 Lazarus his Rest, a Sermon preached at the Fu­nerall of that pious, learned and Orthodox Divine, Mr. Ephraim Ʋdall, by Thomas Reeve, Bachelour in Divi­nity, in 4o.

Choice Poems, with excellent Translations, and in­comparable Comedies and Tragedies, written by severall ingenious Authors.

47 COmedies and Tragedies written by Francis Beaumont, and John Fletcher, Gent. never prin­ted before, and now published by the Authors Origi­nall Copies, containing 34 playes, & a Masque, in Fol.

48 Epigramata Thomae Mori Angli, in 16o.

49 Fragmenta Aurea, A collection of the incom­parable Pieces, written by Sir John Suckling Kt. in 8o.

50 All Juvenals 16 Satyrs, translated by Sir Robert Stapylton Kt. wherein is contained a survey of the man­ners & actions of mankind, with Annotations, in 8o.

51 Musaeus on the loves of Hero and Leander, with Leanders letters to Hero, & her answer, taken out of O­vid, with Annotations by Sir Rob. Stapylton, Kt. in 8o.

52 Poems, &c. written by Mr. Edward Waller of Beckonsfield Esq in 8o.

53 Pastor Fido, the faithfull Shepheard, a Pastorall, newly translated out of the Originall, by Richard Fan­shaw, Esq in 4o.

54 Poems, with a discovery of the Civill Warres of Rome, by Richard Fanshaw, Esq in 4o.

55 Aurora Ismenia and the Prince, with Oronta the Cyprian Virgin, translated by Thomas Stanly Esq the 2d Edition corrected and amended in 8o. 1650.

56 Europa, Cupid crucified, Venus Vigils, with An­notations, by Thomas Stanly, Esq in 8o. 1650.

57 Medea, a Tragedy written in Latine, by Lucius Annaeus Seneca, Englished by Mr. Edward Sherburne Esq with Annotations, in 8o.

58 Seneca's answer to Lucilius his Quaere, why good men suffer Misfortunes, seeing there is a Divine providence, translated into English verse by Mr. Ed­ward Sherburne Esq in 8o.

[Page]59 Poems of Mr. Iohn Milton, with a Masque pre­sented at Ludlow Castle, before the Earle of Bridge­water, then president of Wales, in 8o.

60 Poems, &c. with a Masque called The Triumph of Beauty, by Iames Shirley, in 8o.

61 Steps to the Temple, Sacred Poems, with the Delights of the Muses, upon severall occasions, by Ri­chard Crashaw of Cambridge, in 12o.

62 The Mistris or severall Copies of Love verses, written by Mr. Abraham Cowley, in 8o.

63 Divine Poems written by Francis Quarles in 8o.

64 The Odes of Casimire, translated by Mr. George Hills of Newarke, in 12o.

65 Arnalte & Lucenda, or the melancholy Knight, a Poem translated by L. Laurence, in 4o.

66 The Sophister, a Comedy in 4o. by Dr. S.

67 The Woman-hater, or the Hungry Courtier, a Comedy written by Francis Beaumont, and John Flet­cher, Gent. in 4o.

68 The Tragedy of Thierry, King of France, and his brother Theodoret, written by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, Gent. in 4o.

69 The Elder Brother, a Comedy written by Fran­cis Beaumont and John Fletcher, Gent. 1650.

70 The scornefull Lady, a Comedy written by Fran­cis Beaumont, and Iohn Fletcher. Gent. 1650.

71 The Vnfortunate Lovers, a Tragedy written by Sir William Davenant, Knight, in 4o.

72 Love and Honour, a Comedy written by Sir William Davenant, Knight in 4o.

73 Madagascar, with other Poems, written by Sir William Davenant Knight, in 12o.

74 The Country Captaine, and the Variety, Two Comedies written by a person of Honour, in 12o.

75 The Cid, a Tragi-Comedy, in 12o. 1650.

76 Allarum to Poets by J. L. in 4o.

[Page]77 The Sophy, a Tragedy written by I. Denham, Esq

78 Coopers Hill, a Poem written by Iohn Denham, Esq the second Edition in 4o. with Additions. 1650.

79 Clarastella, with other occasionall Poems, Ele­gies, Epigrams, & Satyrs, written by R. Heath, Esq 1650.

80 The Academy of Complements, wherein La­dies, Gentlewomen, Schollers, and Strangers, may ac­commodate their Courtly practice with Gentile Cere­monies, Complementall, Amorous, high Expressions, and Formes of speaking, or writing of Letters, most in fashion, with Additions of many witty Poems, and pleasant new Songs, newly printed,

Bookes newly Printed this present yeare for Humphrey Moseley.

81 CHoyce Musick for three voyces, with a thorough Base, composed by Mr Henry, and Mr William Lawes, Brothers, and servants to his late Majesty, with divers Elegies set in Musick by severall friends upon the death of Mr William Lawes, in 4o.

82 Judicious, and select Essayes, and Observations, written by the renowned and learned Knight, Sir Walter Raleigh, with his Apology for his Voyage to Guiana, in 8o. newly printed 1650.

83 Unheard of Curiosities concerning the Talisma­nicall Sculpture of the Persians, the Horoscope of the Patriarks, and the reading of the Stars, by Iames Gaf­farel; Englished by Ed. Ch [...]lmead Ch. Ch. Oxon. in 8o. newly printed. 1650.

84 Hymnus Tobaci, Authore Raphaele Thorio. 1650.

85 Hymnus Tobaci, or the excellency of Tobacco, set forth in an Heroick Poem by Raphael Thorius, and now Paraphrastically rendered into English by Peter Hausted Camb. newly printed. 1650.

More Bookes newly printed for Hum­phrey Moseley this present yeare.

86 LEtters between the Lord George Digby and Sir Kenelme Digby Knight, concerning Religion, in 8o. 1651.

87 De Bello Belgico, The History of the Low-Coun­try Warres, written in Latine by Famianus Strada; in English by Sir Robert Stapylton, Knight; illustra­ted with divers figures, newly printed. 1651.

88 Poems, with a Masque, by Thomas Carew, Esq Gentleman of the Privy Chamber to his late Majesty, revised and enlarged with Additions, in 8o. 1651.

89 Comedies Tragi-Comedies, with other Excellent Poems, by Mr. William Cartwright, late Student of Christ Church in Oxford, and Proctour of the Univer­sity. The Ayres and Songs set by Mr. Henry Lawes, servant to his late Majesty, in his Publick and Private Musick, 1651.

These Bookes I have now in the Presse.

90 THe History of Philoxipes and Policrite, Taken out of Artamene, or The Grand Cyrus; made English by an Honorable Person.

91 Fenise a Romance, originally written in Spanish by Francisco De las-Coveras, Treating the Severall ef­fects of Love and Fortune, Englished by a Person of Honour.

92 The Card of Courtship, or the Language of Love, fitted to the humours of all degrees, Sexes and Condi­tions.

93 Artificiall Arithmetick, Containing the Quinte­scence of the Golden Rule, The true valuation of all Annuities. Also to finde a distance at one Station: An Art never till now published: Usefull for Gunners, Sea-men, and Surveyors, by Robert Jager. Gent.

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