THey that have taken pains to digest Moral Philosophy into a Bo­dy, or System of Pre­cepts, have always assign'd Virtue the middle place between two Extremes. And yet methinks, a very little Logick, more than what we suck from our Nurses, might shew a man of Sense such knots, and difficulties in the [Page 2] assertion, as Aristotle himself (were he alive again) might find enough to do to resolve. For Example, Co­vetousness, and Prodigality are the Extremes of Liberality: and so are Cowardize and Fool-hardiness of Fortitude: and yet we must confess, that both these Excesses are the more easily corrected, and so nearer to the Mean than either of the con­trary defects: Otherwise the terms of Magnificent, and Heroick (which in all Ages have met with such a profound respect) could never be either necessary, or sutable to the Character of a Great man. Were it not to give my Reader occasion, of suspecting my own inclinations, I might say as much of the excess of Love, which though it have driven many out of the beaten paths, and methods which the severer precepts of our Grand-fathers have design'd, yet can the most of those Truants say, and the World will subscribe to [Page 3] them besides, that they have com­monly been persons of the finest Spirits, and the greatest Souls, and have done such things, as may justly challenge an honourable re­membrance, as long as brave Acti­ons have any Golden Legends, and which (it may be) they had never so much as enterpriz'd, under any other Conduct, but that of the Blind God.

I do not offer you this Pre­face, as an entire and absolute Vin­dication of all those extravagances, which the Gentleman, that furnishes the subject of this Story, may per­haps have been guilty of, but only to mitigate the severity of your censures, and to allay the rigour of your Justice, with a little gene­rous tenderness, and compassion. I will urge this Address on his behalf with no other Argument, but that common Principle of Self-interest, which every one finds so deep engraven in his own breast. [Page 4] For how can any man think, if by chance he should be overtaken with the like surprize, to obtain that pity, and connivance himself, which he has discourteously deni'd to others: And if he shall tell me, he is in no danger, and that he is out of shot of those childish Arms, I dare say he does not consider in the mean while, what an unto­ward imputation he lays upon his good nature, or what an unmanly violence he does his Reason, while all the world must needs censure him for a desperate Opiniator, that will not believe his House is as combustible as his Neighbours, till he see it on fire about his ears.

To keep you no longer in sus­pense, It shall suffice me to tell you, that our Adventurer (whom in this Relation we shall call Lisander) was a Gentleman of our own Coun­trey, of an Ancient, and honoura­ble Family, and it may be the first [Page 5] of his House, that for four Gene­rations had cross'd the Seas with­out the leave of his Friends, and a competent Subsistence. The oc­casion of this bold Design has been something uncertainly reported, but they that were of his Secrets, (and he himself since) tell us, that meet­ing with some opposition in his A­mours, which neither pleas'd his nor the Ladies Friends, after a te­dious resistance of the two contrary Passions of Love and Anger, (be­tween which his Soul was distract­ed, and torn in pieces) he found himself unequal to the burden, and therefore resolv'd to try, if crossing the Seas, he could leave his Cares on this side the water. His heart was too great to think of any other Employment, than the Sword; and so the War betwixt the House of Austria and France, gave him a fair opportunity. Lisander had I know not what natural Aversion to [Page 6] the French Nation, notwithstanding that Fortune and Victory at that time seem'd to have undertaken the Conduct of their Arms; and therefore resolves to serve the Spaniard. The apprehensions of hard Duty, and bad Pay, and all those Difficulties, which one that has serv'd there knows but too well, and a man in his Circum­stances might very reasonably ex­pect, had been enough to have de­terr'd any body, but Lisander, from the enterprise: and yet the heat of his Youth, and the Great­ness of his Mind, with the desire he had of scowring those honoura­ble Arms, which one of his An­cestours had purchas'd against the French at the famous Battel of Agincourt, easily contemn'd, and surmounted these disadvantages.

Thus he, and the Lady of his Vows, whose name was Sabina, (after a thousand Prayers, and Ar­guments [Page 7] to divert him from this rough, design lost, and thrown away) took leave one of another. They parted with the same pain­ful Sighs, and troubled Silence, that Souls leave their Bodies in the Agony of their dissolution. Something they would both of them have said, but such was their surprising grief, that their Passion found no vent. Tears, and Embra­ces were the last, and only Rheto­rical Expressions of their cross Love.

Lisander when he divided him­self, and went one half for the Spanish Netherlands, was about Twenty years old.

His complexion was not quite so clear as that of a womans, but the Features, and Lineaments of his face were pleasing, and Majestick to Admiration. Nature was so kind to him, that he neither wanted, nor wore a Periwig, for (as if she [Page 8] had fore-seen his Military design) She had given him a lovely head of brown Hair, curl'd all in such rings, as the Ladies of the last Ge­neration call'd Heart-breakers. He was something taller than the ordi­nary sort of men, and so delicately well limb'd, and shap'd to his height, that you would have thought Nature had intended him only for a Pattern. His very Meen, and Presence had always something in them of Noble, and if ever he had deni'd his blood, would have been sure to have given him the lie. But (which made every body won­der) he had a particular way of wearing his Clothes, though nei­ther he, nor any body else knew where the secret lay; for whatever Suit he had on, became him a great deal better than richer Clothes did another man. He had already pass'd five years in one of the Inns of Court, where you may [Page 9] be sure he had learn'd to know which Pocket his money was in, and how many two and two are, without a Conjurer. His Natural Abilities (without which 'tis impossible to be excellent in any thing) were such, as drew every bodies eyes upon him, whatever he did or said. He was of a strong, and piercing Judgment, a ready Wit, a most undaunted Constancy and Resolution, an indefatigable Diligence, and of a wonderful quick Dispatch. In a word, take him al­together, he was a man of a most becoming and Gentile Address, and all his Actions were accompanied with a certain fatal agreeableness, for which we have no name. Only his Disposition was a little too sus­ceptible of that sweet Poyson, that gentle Torment, that desirable Evil, and almost inseparable Plague of a great Mind, Love, which would now and then be a little too [Page 10] busie in his Management, often steal­ing some Minutes from a serious hour, and spoiling a good nights rest after a hard days labour.

Heaven, and the Sea were loath to crush so brave a Spirit in the setting forth, and so he arriv'd at Dunkirk (once an English Garrison) in one Afternoon, where the next Morning he took leave of the Master of the Vessel, and with his Horse, and a hundred Broad-pieces, which was all his Stock, set for­ward towards Brussels, (where the General of the Spanish Forces was at that time) to lay the foun­dation of his Fortune of War.

His arrival at the out-guards be­fore the Gates of the City, did him the Office of a Court Address, and without any of those prelimi­nary Solemnities, which are ordi­narily made use of to introduce men into the presence of a Prince, the custom of bringing Strangers to be [Page 11] examin'd whence they come, and what their business is, was his safe Conduct to the General. It hap­pen'd, that the King of England's Resident at the Court was at that time attending the General about some business of his Masters, and so very opportunely serv'd for In­terpreter between the General and Lisander. It is strange to observe what a gentle influence Beauty has upon all mens affections, and how insensibly it makes it self room in our wills, for no sooner had Lisan­der told him his inclinations, but the General was over-joy'd to see a Gentleman of his Breeding, and appearance come to offer his Ser­vice in the War. And being well assur'd of his Parts and understand­ing, by the pertinence and good manage of his Address, receiv'd him with greater Demonstrations of Courtesie, and more Affability than the manner of that grave Nation, [Page 12] and the height of their Spirits does ordinarily vouchsafe. And as he was about to Consult with the Re­sident, which way, or what Me­thod he should use to serve this Young Gentleman in his pretensi­ons, (seeing he had never born Arms) A Spanish Maestro di Campo, or Colonel of the Army, that was just come from Gant, where his Regiment lay, and had heard all the Discourse, told his Ex­cellence (not without some Passi­on) that there was an Alfier, or Ensigns Commission in his Regi­ment to dispose of, and if the Gen­tleman (in regard it was a proper and an honourable Office for a person of Quality to learn the Trade of War in) pleas'd to accept it, and his Excellence would give leave, he would think himself extremely ho­nour'd, and promis'd that he would take a most particular Charge of him, as if he were his own Son; [Page 13] such a mighty impression and pre­valence had the very Presence, and Address of Lisander.

The motion was very accepta­ble on all sides, only the General told Lisander, he was almost asham'd to make him so little an offer, but if he pleas'd to content himself till he was acquainted with the Spanish Tongue, and the Dis­cipline of War, he doubted not but to find means to do something for him which might deserve his ac­ceptance. Lisander made him a handsome and grave return of his Compliment, and told him that he was too sensible of his own want of merit, not to understand the ho­nour he was pleas'd to do him, and that he would study to avoid the imputation of an ingrate, more than he would the preservation of his Life. That very night he accom­panied his Colonel towards Gant, who was almost extasied with his [Page 14] good Fortune, and verily believ'd his good Angel had taken care to Conduct him into the Generals pre­sence in that lucky Conjuncture.

Four whole years did Lisander serve in that Regiment, in which time (young as he was) he made a shift (almost without aemula­tion) to run through all the Charges, and Offices from an Ensign, to a Lieutenant Colonel. And acquit­ted himself in them all with so much Integrity, Conduct, and Gal­lantry, that the whole Army was full of his name, and nothing trou­bled them so much, as that our He­ro had not been born a Spaniard.

When they lay in Winter-quar­ters, Lisander (who as I told you was Amorous enough, and the fit­test man alive to be so) to divert the trouble which he conceiv'd for the absence of his dear Mistress, did ordinarily pass a good part of his spare hours with the Ladies of the [Page 15] best Character, and Quality in the Town, and was every where so wel­come, and his Company so much desir'd, that oftentimes it bred such little heats, and Animosities a­mongst them, as without doubt had been more publick, and made more noise in the world, but for fear of doing violence to their Modesty. And by this means he never wan­ted the choisest Laces and Linnen which the Country (famous for those Commodities) could afford, or any thing else (in reason) which the Ladies had to dispose of.

And when Summer came, that the Army was to March into the Field, it would ee'n have griev'd any bodies heart to see with what a Catholick sorrow (as if the Sun had gone the wrong way) they receiv'd the killing news of his de­parture. And which yet extremely aggravated the disaster, their Dis­cretion durst not complain, or show [Page 16] their grievance in Publick, though among Confidents, and in several little Cabals, his name was the ordinary Entertainment, both of Song and Drink, and Company.

And as often as any fair oppor­tunity, and safe conveyance offer'd it self, it was ten to one he had some of their Billets douces and sure 'tis more than pity they are so many of them lost. I will only give you one in passing sent him by a German Lady (as you will see) upon some March or other, which I have accidentally recover'd out of the merciless jaws of time, as well to testifie my obligations to, as assert the honour of the Nation, and to convince you they were only French men that made Parler comme un Aleman to signifie, to speak like a Fool. The lines are in effect these.

After four years spent in the Ser­vice of his Catholick Majesty, a Peace being Concluded between the two Kings of France, and Spain, their Regiment had orders to March by land to Barcellona, a strong Town, and a good Gar­rison in Spain, scituate upon the Mediterranean. If the Ladies found themselves so uneasy in his absence but for one Campagne, and in their own Countrey, with what affecti­ons, think we, did they receive the sad news of this remote, and (for ought they knew) Eternal separation.

For which of their sins this hap­pened I will not adventure to judge, sure I am it was a severe punish­ment, and affliction to all the ten­der Sex, no man ever departed this world with more Tears, than the Beloved Lisander did the Nether­lands, and indeed could one with [Page 20] freedom have looked into all the Closets in the Town, he would have thought there had been one dead in every house.

The Grief was so great, and the Mischief so surprising, that they could not (in that distraction) so much as think of a remedy, or else without doubt they would have found means to have made some secret Address to his Excellence, that he might have staid: Or at least their jealousie one of another was such, that it hindred them from laying their Jewels together, to redeem that, which every body could not share in. Had it not been for fear that History in suc­ceeding Ages should have mention'd it to their disadvantage, I believe they would have mutin'd, and committed a Rape upon his Person. And (as the Thracian women serv'd Orpheus) have got every one a [Page 21] snip of this Charmer, tearing him in pieces for the relicks, in the rage of their Love, as those Cruel wo­men did the poor Harper in the heat of their Anger.

This Barcellona was the Colonels own Countrey, and so the Order was of his procuring, and had cost him both Paper, and Money be­fore he could obtain it. Lisander (whose Advice the Colonel had made use of in this Affair) was very well content, and being a man of an extraordinary Spirit, even long'd (as other Knight Errants use to do) to be seeking new Ad­ventures. And he was by this time a great Master of the Spanish Tongue, and Crindge.

As soon as the Colonel had re­ceived the Orders, he and his Lieu­tenant Colonel, and all other Offi­cers of Note in the Regiment, went [Page 22] to Brussels to Kiss his Excellencies hand and take their leaves. Where the General, who had no ordinary esteem for Lisander, and was a lit­tle unwilling to part with him, offer'd him an exchange of his Office (except he had a fancy for the Expedition) and money to boot, from another Lieutenant Co­lonel who was of the Countrey, and had a mind to go home to sow Me­lons. Lisander thank'd his Excel­lence, and told him that it would compleat the obligations he had both to him, and the Army, if he would not now deny him leave, to bless his Eyes with the sight of that happy Countrey, where all those brave men were born. Your Me­rit (Lieutenant Colonel answered the General) I am well assur'd will commend you to the best Friendships, and the best Prefer­ments wherever you come; but up­on the word of a Souldier, I should [Page 23] have thought it my good Fortune to have bestow'd with my own hands (as they might have fallen) such degrees of Trust, and Honour as this Government affords. But since you are so resolv'd, Go on, and grow as Great, as your own Vir­tue. And now Gentlemen, says he with a smile, (Addressing him­self to them all) Pray when you come into Spain, forget you were ever in Flanders, where the Custom of the Countrey allows you such freedom of Conversation among the Ladies. The Company smil'd and Lisander fancying himself had a good share in the Advice, May it please your Excellence (says he) I am of opinion, that men, and women have the same Sentiments and Affections in all Countreys, and if it be in Love as it is in War, the more difficulty one meets with in the Attacque, and approaches of a Strength, or Castle, the more [Page 24] Content, and Honour one has in the Surrender. Well Lisander (says his Excellence) I pity thee, to think that once within these two Months, some calm Evening, about the Ave Maria Bell, I shall fancy thee going the round of a Ladies Lodgings, and playing at Bo-peep at the Corner of the next Street, to watch when the Window opens, and then making a company of mi­serable dumb Signs, and Platonick flourishes. One while throwing Kisses which stick to your fingers in spite of your teeth, another while beating your breast with the ends of your fingers, and crying Miserere instead of Mea Culpa. And it may be in the mean while, the scornful Lady shuts her Window upon you, only on purpose to let some Rival not half so Deserving, witness the repulse, and expose you to the laughter of the Observers. And then to take it ill, or shew any [Page 25] signs of Discontent, would savour of the Barbarian. You must bear like a Vault, and suffer like a Mar­tyr, or you may come to be per­fectly Non-suited, at the charge of a little choler. This is very true I'll assure you. In Spain a Fellow that has a good stock of Patience, may now and then Rival a Hero, and have the better of him too, and he that wears good Clothes, though but a Serving-man, may sometime carry a pretty Maid in spite of a Person of Quality. Love enters there, for the most part, at the Eye, the Ears are of little, or no use, ex­cept it be in Serenading, and there a good Fidler has odds of Tully, or Demosthenes. This will all be new to me indeed (says Lisander with a gay Air) but your Excellence knows his Catholick Majesties Souldiers are inur'd to— Ay, I know very well what they're inur'd to (the General interrupted him) [Page 26] just as one came to tell him, that a Play, which was to be Acted that night, was just ready to begin, and desir'd to know if his Excellence pleas'd to see it. He told the Mes­senger he would, and so immedi­ately went, and for a parting Com­plement, took all the Officers, but the Colonel, along with him. For you will know that the Colonel, having committed the Conduct of the Regiment, in this tedious March, to his Lieutenant Colonel, was busie in his own preparations, re­solving himself, and his Daughter, the next morning early, would take his own Coach, and Travel at their ease, and convenience, without attending the halts, and rests, which of necessity the Souldiers must make.

The young Lady whose name was Clarinda, was extremely hand­some, and delicately well bred, and [Page 27] so much the dearer to him, that she was her Fathers only Child, and that her Mother was dead, and had left the Colonel a Widower. She had for many years been brought up at Antwerp, among a certain Order of Nuns, which the Flemmings call Biggeens, whose main business is the Education of young Ladies. Whence he had caus'd her to come, and meet him at Brussels, in order to their jour­ney. Clarinda was quite Ravish'd, and Transported with her new Li­berty, for (to say the truth) she had had a very hard time of it among the holy Sisters, and especially the two last years, which were ever since she was fourteen. They had taught her every thing which might make a woman as compleat as the Stuff would admit, except [...]ng those little Intrigues of Love, which one cannot hinder them from learn­ing of themselves. She had never [Page 28] so much, as seen a Romance but one in all her life, which came to her hands by stealth, and the Trans­gression cost her the Penance of making twelve dozen of Flowers for the High Altar, and the repeti­tion of the Seven Penitential Psalms for fourteen cold Winter mornings together, on her bare knees in the Church.

She had hitherto only seen men at a distance, and heard them offer their Services on the wrong side of an Iron-grate, and a door with a Bar, and two Padlocks upon it. But now she began to hope some more familiar Conversation, and pleas'd her self not a little to think that once her Mother was a Maid.

Full of these thoughts as she was, came two or three of the Court Ladies to give her a Visit, and de­sir'd her Father to give her leave to [Page 29] go with them to see the Play, which certainly was the first she had ever seen in her life. The Colonel easily granted it, and testifi'd his obliga­tions to them for the honour they did his Daughter, with two pair of cross bended Knees (as the Spanish Civility is) and a very formal Complement. Away they went together to the Play, where (as if the God of Love, and his Mother had Marshall'd the Spectators) it was Clarinda's Fortune to sit in the next Box, just before Lisander, so that when he did but stand up, his Mouth was just at her Ear. Her Education among the Religious (as I was saying) had been so recluse, and severe, that they two had ne­ver seen, or had the least know­ledge of one another before, and therefore those powers which influ­ence our Amours knowing the great work they had to do, and the little time they had to do it in, resolv'd [Page 30] to make the most of it in this Con­juncture, and improve it to the best advantage.

At the end of the first Act, when the Audience had time to look about them, and consider one another, Clarinda imagin'd, that she saw at least twenty Ladies, from several places, with their Eyes stedfastly fixt upon her, (who indeed were all eying Lisander just behind her) and being a little doubtful and un­easie with the apprehension, she rose, and turn'd her self about, where Lisander who was standing up, and she were forc'd to look one another so full in the face, and so very near at the first Interview, that they were both of them extremely surpris'd, and almost startled. At the same instant they both of them found in themselves something un­usual, that kept them, like two Marbles, in this Posture, stedfast, [Page 31] and unmov'd. As for shame, and blushing the ordinary effects of Modesty in such accidents, they were quite lost, and forgotten in the Extasie, and Astonishment.

Whether the Image of the Play, (which when it is very Passionate, and well done, does (I know not how) insinuate it self into our Bo­somes, and by a gentle violence warms, and softens, and melts the very heart, engaging us for a party before we are aware, and making the case our own, though we know not why) I say whether the Image of the Play, which they met with there, or the tender Disposition, they brought with them thither, or the Charms of Beauty, or the decree of Fate, or the frolick of the Blind Deity, or whether they all concurr'd in the Adventure, I am not able to say, but sure I am, they were both Wounded, and both of them Lov'd (as good Musitians [Page 32] sing) at first sight. When the Amazement was a little over, Ma­dam, says Lisander, (who had seen more of these Encounters) with a Languishing smile, and very softly, If you have a mind to keep us both in Countenance, (for no doubt a great many eyes have ob­serv'd this Action) you will in your discretion (at least for this time) be pleas'd to carry it fami­liarly, and as if we were well ac­quainted, and let us seem at least to discourse as if we were so. With all my heart Sir, Answer'd Clarinda (with more promptitude, than one could reasonably expect in a Lady of her Age, and Conversa­tion) provided you will assure me, that like School-boys we do not fall out of jest into earnest. I'll assure you Madam (says he) that rather than any acquaintance that shall either now, or at any time here­after be Contracted between us [Page 33] should come to be divulg'd any otherwise than with your own fair liking and approbation I would be whip'd like a School-boy; but if you forbid me the desire of that Honour and happyness, I must be bold to tell you, you should have done it before I saw you, for now 'tis too late. And I am confident that all the world besides is of my mind, that does not want, either eyes, or means to see you. Well Sir (reply'd she) 'tis an easie thing for a Gentleman of your Wit and Breeding, to put a silly young Maid as I am, to the Blush, and silence her beyond the help of Reparty, and yet (continued she in stifling a Sigh) if you do me no other ill, your Conquest will not be worth the publishing; and though you should think it so, I could forgive you with all my heart. What other ill do you mean (dear Madam says he?) I would rather—I would rather [Page 34] (says she interrupting him, for the Second Act was already begun) you would be silent at this time, and have a care we do not lose the Plot with our Chatting, for that's the ill I meant indeed. The Actors put an end to this Discourse, which the Interlude betwixt the two next Acts renewed again. Pray Madam, (says Lisander) give me leave to ask your Ladyship, what it was you were saying ee'n now about losing the Plot. I have forgot (Sir says she.) If I had done so (says he) it had been no great wonder, for I fancy I am in Love.

And how do you know but I may be so too (says Clarinda?) Ah, Madam (says he) how hap­py would you make that man, (whoever he be) if the first know­ledge of the secret did not strike him dead with an Inundation of sudden joy? And were it a par­donable [Page 35] curiosity, I think I could be concent to serve an Apprentiship of seven years to an Astronomer, only to know his name. Sir (says she) this is no proper Scene to talk, but if you will wait me at the Play-house door anon, as soon as I can pass the Croud I will find means to assure you I am so in earnest, and without the trouble of Appren­tiship tell you the man too; for to speak my mind plainly to you, though you are a Stranger to me, I have a fancy to employ you in the Affair, for methinks you look like a man of much Honour, and Gal­lantry, and one that I believe, may have a very particular influence up­on the Person I mean. Sit you down now, and speak not one word more to me till then. Thus far did this Treaty advance betwixt Lisander and the fair Clarinda, without the least knowledge of one anothers Persons, and it may be [Page 36] the point they were arriv'd at hin­der'd their enquiries. Never a one of the Officers there knew Clarinda, and the Ladies that were in her Company, knowing Lisander was her Fathers Lieutenant Colonel, be­liev'd verily they were well ac­quainted. However they spoke never a word to her about it, be­cause she was a Stranger, nor she to them, for reasons best known to her self. It is to be presum'd, that knowing she had but that night to stay at Brussels, and con­sidering that an occasion of that kind once slipt through ones fingers, and lost, was lost for ever, and then the appearance there was (as she intended to have manag'd it) of never being known, made her so free, and open hearted. For Secresie, you must know, is a great Master-piece, and one of the most powerful, and cogent Arguments in the School of Love. And cer­tainly [Page 37] he deserves to be poyson'd with his own breath, that dare but whisper the favours of the Paphian Goddess, any where, but under the shadow of that Sacred Rose, where the soft Nymph rested.

To Lisander, these last words of the Ladies, made the Play last at least four hours longer, than it would have done. And just at speaking of the Epilogue he made a shift to gain the door, where, in­stead of his Mistress, he met her Father the Colonel, who was coming to deliver him the Order, and to give him his Majesties in­structions about the management of the March. Lisander at that time had as lieve he had brought a Warrant for his Execution; how­ever, he was fain to go along with him. For (which was the greatest Argument of his Faith, and Gene­rosity) his Love always superseded [Page 38] his own private business, but the Service of the King, always super­seded his Love. By this means the Plot was lost indeed, and the whole Intrigue defeated in its first Prin­ciples; for it was past midnight, before he was dispatch'd, and had taken his leave of the Colonel, who at break of day the next morning set forward with the unfortunate Clarinda toward Spain. The young Lady as soon as the Play was done, pull'd her hoods over her face, and made what shift she might to lose her Company, only that she might see, and speak with the first man that ever she Lov'd.

For you must know that the wo­mens first Love does (like a Seal in wax) make an impression in their very Souls. When all the Assembly was dissolv'd, and she found she had waited to no purpose, she went back again into the House [Page 39] (pretending to have lost a Fan, or some such Trifle) and seeing he was not there, she fell into an ex­treme Agony, and Swoon'd away. When she came to her self, she found her self betwixt two Gentlewomen, that knew her Father. She desir'd them to Conduct her home telling them she was not well, and indeed she had not needed to have said so, as soon as the Gentlewomen had look'd her in the Face.

She was fain to rest four, or five times by the way before she got home, but at last, with the help of the two Gentlewomen, and a Chair, which they prest for that Service in the Street, she was brought to her Lodgings. She was no sooner in her Chamber, and in bed, but she desir'd them to leave the room, for she had a mind to sleep, and commanded her own Maids to wait without. Then had [Page 40] she time enough, and too much to give the reins to her Passion, to indulge her sorrow, and even dis­solve her self in Tears, for the loss of she knew not whom, nor what. Unfortunate Clarinda (says she!) No sooner art thou restor'd to thy Liberty, but thou art for ever be­come a Slave to thou know'st not whom. The same day hath both begun, and finish'd thy Fortunes. Wretched Maid that I am! Are these thy fruits O Love? Are these the effects of thy mighty Promises? Are these the Pleasures of thy Gol­den dreams? But why do I not ra­ther blame my self, and complain of my own easiness. It was I that Courted him. It was my forward­ness, that made me nauseous, and my bad Conduct, that made him retract. It were yet some kind of satisfaction (if my Condition will admit of any) to know who he is, or where to find him; That I might [Page 41] upbraid him with his Ingratitude, and tell him though to no purpose) how much he has wrong'd one, who knows neither pain, nor plea­sure on this side Eternity, but to Love him. O honour, honour! Now I begin to think (though too late) how oft I have been taught thy price, and value; and how cheap I have sold both thee, and my repose! Were it not to take a severer Revenge upon my self, by the Penitential Life, I mean to lead, I would Murder with a thou­sand Wounds this False and Trea­cherous heart, that let it self be won so tamely, that yielded with­out striking so much as one blow. But Mighty Love has carv'd an Image there, which (though I shall never see the Life again) I must for ever adore, and so to do it the least violence were to add Sacriledge to Murder. These, and such like were the sorrowful Enter­tainments [Page 42] of that night, but in the Morning, she dissembled her grief so well, that it hinder'd not their Journey, as well for fear of afflict­ing her Father, as giving him oc­casion to suspect the truth. Thus did the distressed Clarinda go for Spain, and (though she could ne­ver hope to return) left her heart engag'd in Flanders with a Stran­ger, she did not know, and to whom she ow'd not one Farthing.

And now least you should think Clarinda the only unhappy Lover in the world, if you please to go a little back again with me, I will shew you Lisander labouring under the very same Pressures: full of pain for the disappointment, and full of Passion for a Lady, he did not know. The most part of that night, he took leave of the Colo­nel, he spent in walking the Streets [Page 43] (like a man that wanted Lodging) from one house to another, as long as people were up, and then from one Guard to another, till day ap­pear'd, which drove him to his Quarters, lest the world should have taken notice of his disorder. He us'd all the means he thought safe, or proper, to inform himself who this Beauty might be, but all prov'd ineffectual. And now he began to repent he had not exchang'd his Office, with the Spanish Lieute­nant Colonel, that so he might have had time to find his new Mistress, and with his own dili­gence make himself amends for the rigour of his hard Fate. Restless, and full of thought as he was, he rose from his bed before he had well warm'd it, chang'd his Clothes, and (under colour of taking leave) visited most of the Ladies in the Town, to see if he might find her in any of their Companies. [Page 44] But he bestow'd all his labour in vain, and only wearied himself against his March, which was to begin the same Afternoon. About two of the Clock the Drums beat, and the Regiment drew up in the Market-place. At length came the Lieutenant-Colonel attended with the Magistrates, and Gentry of the Town, to take a solemn leave. His trouble was such that it might easily be read in his very looks. And every body knowing he was a man of such Spirit, and Resolution, could not but wonder, that so small a matter, as changing the Countrey (which was his own Election besides) should affect him so much, without ever hitting, or so much as suspecting the true cause of his Discomposure. Sorry they were (though they lov'd no Soul­diers) to part with Lisander, his temper had so little in it of the Spanish Insolence (though he had [Page 45] serv'd long enough among them to have learn'd it,) and therefore to testifie their respects they waited on him about a League out of Town, and then with a whole Volly of warm Prayers committed him to the Conduct, and favour of his good Fortune. He was glad they were gone. For, though their compa­ny would otherwise have been most grateful, and pleasing, yet as his heart beat at that time, the com­pliment was unnecessary, and the honour was troublesome. Solitude had been a fitter Companion, and the shade of some ancient Wood or the bank of some considering Stream would better have suited the vio­lence of his Grief, than a matter of Twenty starch'd Aldermen with Spanish-leather Boots, and Holland-boot-hose-tops, with every one a mouthful of Wind, and an old Beaver full of Smoak. In vain did his Officers strive to shorten the [Page 46] day with a Bottle, or a Song, or a Story, or any new Amours they met with in the March. He was never so much at his ease, as when he was alone, and could complain without being over-heard. Many a time when he was a convenient space either before, or behind the Regiment, he would begin thus with himself. The Gods have seen, and reveng'd thy wrongs, and my Cruelty (My dear Sabina, the first, and only constant Mistress of my Vows, and Wishes,) making all those Wounds, which were given me by thy first Beauty, pain me, and bleed again by the guilty touch of this last. With what assurance, what Rhetorick, or excuses can I ever think of returning to thee, after the Errors, and voluntary Ab­sence of four whole years?

And, as if I had yet a mind in some measure to proportion the [Page 47] distance of place, to the length of time, I am now running two King­doms further from thee. Forgive me dear Sabina, this acknowledg­ment is but counterfeit, and I do but flatter both thee, and my self with a repentance which in spite of my resolution is but false and su­perficial. My Vows, my Vertue, my Faith, my Constancy, have all forsaken me. And (though Fate in pity to thee have remov'd the Object) yet have I no truce with my Passion. The Beauty of her Person, the Sharpness of her Wit, her becoming her Address, like so many Familiar Spirits have taken possession of my breast, and haunt my imagination day and night. But above all her Courtesie which (if one might interpet ambiguities to advantage) I should call Love, has pierc'd my very Soul, and has in it, such Charms as sure a colder constitution, and a severer vertue, [Page 48] than that of mine could never have been able to resist. Once indeed I thought I dream'd, I talk'd of nothing but Sabina; and vainly resolv'd in spite of all the little stops, and lets I might meet with in the way, to carry the respect I had for her, pure, and undivided to my Grave.

But length of time (I see) and absence (which is my own sin) has almost obliterated those old Idea's. 'Tis this Stranger, this new Face, (which I, alas! must never, never see again) which has given me my mortal Wound. And yet I am resolv'd, that as soon as I have deliver'd the Regiment at Barcellona, and obtain'd my Dis­charge, I will, I must return to Flanders in quest of that Face, whose Smiles, and Frowns deter­mine the issues of my life and death.

These and such like were the pastimes of his Solitude. For, as all other Melancholy in its deepest, and most retired speculations is not without some mixture of pleasure, and satisfaction; so especially in Love, the contemplation, and re­membrance of a Beauty we have lov'd, (though unsuccesfully) fills, and extends the heart with warm blood, and fresh spirits even in De­spair it self. And this was the only consolation, which never quitted the perplexed Lisander in all his march to Barcellona.

The Colonel and Clarinda made several little stops in their Journey through France, but the Love-sick Lady found nothing there, that pleas'd her. Now and then she met with some Amorous Addresses, and those from Persons very consi­derable too, but they only serv'd to fan, and blow the Fire which [Page 50] Lisander had kindled in her bosom, and which had now seiz'd upon her very bones, and marrow. Every new City furnish'd her with new Admirers, but their Applications always recoyl'd into their own bo­soms, and did them most mischief at the rebound. Clarinda stood like a Rock in vain importun'd by the Waves, all the effect their fine speeches had with her, was only to teach her how to set a just value upon her self. Seven days after the Colonels arrival at Barcellona, came Lisander with the weary Re­giment.

He was welcom to the Colonel as an Angel, and he deserv'd to be so indeed, not only for his former good Service, but for his ready compliance with him to leave Flan­ders, and the great discretion and diligence he had us'd in the March. The day that the Regiment arriv'd, [Page 51] the Lieutenant-Colonel, and some other of the Officers, din'd with the Colonel, when after Dinner drinking a Glass of Wine (rather like Souldiers than Spaniards) Li­sander (as if his good Angel had whisper'd him something in his Ear) was observ'd to be gayer, and liker himself than he had been all the March. Clarinda, accord­ing to the Ceremony of Spain, was not seen among the Gentlemen at Dinner, but eat in her own Cham­ber, where the Servants were so lavish in representing Lisanders Ac­complishments, that the talk cast her into a deep fit of Melancholy, with bringing to her mind the I­mage of that man whom she could never forget. When the Company parted Lisander was invited to lodge there till he was provided of convenient Quarters; and you may easily believe that when he accept­ed [Page 52] the motion, Venus and her Son smil'd at the Omen.

Lisander had heard of Clarinda in Flanders, and understood that she was now at home with her Fa­ther, but little did he think, that she was the Lady, that had cost him all the quiet, and content he had in the World, for these last two months. However to do his breed­ing right, he resolv'd to Court the first opportunity, to bear up to her, and make her a Reverence. The next morning at a good hour (as if the Destinies had now re­pented of their anger, and were re­solv'd to make our Lovers satisfa­ction for their past sufferings) Cla­rinda went to walk in the Garden, where Lisander, as he was dressing himself in his Chamber, was quick­ly aware of her. At another time he had needed no other admonisher [Page 53] to dispatch, and make himself rea­dy for the encounter, than the warmth of his own temper, and inclination, though now, the last impression his heart had receiv'd, made him use the occasion with a great deal of indifference. As soon as ever Lisander enter'd the Gar­den, (says the Governante, who was waiting on Clarinda) Here's the Lieutenant-Colonel, (for she had seen him, and describ'd him to the young Lady (as I was saying) the day before,) and as modesty and good manners oblig'd them, they walk'd softly into a by-Walk, as it had been on purpose to avoid him, for it was early, and the La­dy was in her morning Dress. Li­sander thought it no point of his civility to go directly the next way up to them, (as if he had had no other design in the Garden) but intended to drop on them, as it were by chance, and so he began [Page 54] to round them, as one would do a Covy of Partridge. He was just come so near, that Clarinda knew him to be the same Gentleman, she had seen at the Play at Brussels, though, by the favour of her morn­ing Dress, he knew not her. And just as he pull'd off his Hat, and said, Good morrow fair Ladies, the Colonel who had been taking the Fresco, steps forth of an Arbour at the end of the Walk, and saluted him, they two fell immediately into Discourse, which gave Cla­rinda a fair occasion to march off, without making him any answer, but a Curtesie. She was certainly much beholding to her morning Cloths, and more to the seasonable interruption of her Father, for the prevention of that surprize and dis­order which must needs have at­tended the discovery on both sides, and infallibly have given the Go­vernante (who was well acquainted [Page 55] with the vanities of this wicked World) just occasion to suspect, even more than the very truth. As they walk'd off, the Governante ask'd Clarinda, What think you now of my judgment? Is it not as I told you? Is not the Lieutenant-Colonel a very fine man? Has he not a brave Port? And twenty other little Questions of the same sort, to which when she observ'd Cla­rinda made no answer, and seem'd not to mind her: She went on laughing, I warrant your heart has taken wing already, and you are in love with him at first sight. Tru­ly (say [...] Clarinda) if one may be forgiven for falling in love with any man at first sight, this is he; for I think him the handsomest, and goodliest person of a man, that e­ver I saw in my life. You have reason, (says the Governante) and I must confess, that such sights to a young Lady in a morning next [Page 56] her heart, are oftentimes of very dangerous consequence. What dan­gerous consequence do you mean (says Clarinda)? As long as La­dies confine themselves within the Laws, and Obligations of their Sex, what danger can there be in an Honourable Love? The Go­vernante presently fancy'd (and well she might) that Lisander's presence had a little mov'd the young Lady, but she never so much as dream'd of any former Acquaintance. For though she had been with her in Flanders, yet the night, that the young Lovers encounter'd one ano­ther at the Play, she was not with them, for she was busie putting things in readiness for the Journey. Though since their Arrival at Bar­cellona, (being well assur'd of the Governant's discretion, and finding some kind of ease in the bare Rela­tion of her Love) Clarinda had told her the whole Story. When [Page 57] they were come into her Chamber, she bad the Governant shut the Door, and calling her to her, to the Bed side, with her face, as full of passion, and transport as her heart could hold, Dear Leonora, (says she) This is the Gentleman. And with that, a sudden shower of Tears, and an impetuous Storm of Sighs made her senses retire for shelter, and threw her tender Body pale, and breathless on the Bed, where there was neither help, nor company (the more the pity) but the frighted Leonora. She ran pre­sently, and call'd two or three of the Maids, and by that time Cla­rinda was come to her self again. This was rather the transport, and excess of joy, than any thing else, for now the day began to break up, and she began to conceive fair hopes of that love which the Stars seem'd to favour, as if they had mov'd by her direction. And therefore, as [Page 58] soon as she had taken a little Cor­dial Water, and the Maids were sent away, she began, and told her discreet Confident the Brussels Story (with all the circumstances she thought necessary to the ma­nagement of the present business) over again. And now the matter is brought upon the Carpet, and a Consult is held, what is to be done, or what Measures are to be taken in their Proceedings.

The first thing they agreed on, was to pass an irrevocable sentence against rashness, and precipitancy in the case: And so they resolv'd, because (now there were no o­ther Strangers, besides the Lieu­tenant-Colonel, who lodg'd there) she would be expected at Dinner, her indisposition should excuse her for that day. This was done on purpose that Lisander should not see her at unawares, but that they [Page 59] might have time enough to con­sider, what methods they should make use of for an Interview, lest the surprize might give the World some untoward apprehensions. All that day was wasted in uncertain Counsels, and nothing particular was determin'd, but that Clarinda should make use of the first proper opportunity to make her self known to him, and (since she was now in Spain, and thought she had him fast enough) it was resolv'd, she should treat him with more mo­desty, and greater reservation, than the first Encounter had pro­mis'd, which (that she might stand fair in his opinion) was to be pretended only jest, and rail­lery.

The Colonel, and Lisander in the Garden, discours'd the whole story of the March, wherein Li­sander was observ'd to deliver him­self [Page 60] all along with so much cold­ness, and indifference, that being modestly urg'd, he told the Colo­nel plainly, that he repented the Expedition, and had a design to pretend his Ben' Servito, or Dis­charge of his Majesty, and so re­turn.

The Colonel (as much as he could without entering into his se­crets) endeavour'd to diswade him, striving to possess him with good thoughts of the Country, and lay­ing before him the fair prospect he had of raising his Fortunes in Spain, whereas the Netherlands wanted that choice, and variety of great Employments either in Peace, or War. In short the Colonel laid before him so many reasons of weight, interwoven with such to­kens of his good will, and so much passion for his conversation, that, before they parted, Lisander (tho [Page 61] he was well enough resolv'd within himself) in complaisance to the Colonel (because he saw what trouble it gave him) was fain to tell him, he would consider of it. The Colonel had more than a hun­dred times in Flanders, and on his Journey too, thought of a Match betwixt the Lieutenant-Colonel, and his Daughter: And to say the truth, almost as oft as he look'd upon her in the Coach, within himself, he could ee'n have wish'd her fairly in Lisander's Arms. And now finding his inclination to return for Flanders, (though he thought it inconsistent with his gravity to be seen in it) yet he resolv'd to shew him the fair Cla­rinda at the best advantage, and try whether flesh and blood (which were as warm in Lisander, as in another) could resist the powerful charms of her Youth, and Beauty.

The next morning going to see his Daughter at her Chamber, and finding her pretty cheerful and hearty, he bid her dress her self that day, and come to Dinner. She did so, and about an hour before Noon, either to get her an appetite, or to give Lisander time and place to accost her before Dinner, she walk'd out into the Garden. As if every thing had conspired to further her design, it happen'd to be Post-day, and so the Colonel having some Dispatches to make, kept his Closet the most part of the forenoon. Lisander having the opportunity in his hands, went to congratulate the young Ladies Re­covery, and give her the rest of that Address, which the Colonel had interrupted in the beginning. As he came up to her, Clarinda (who was alone) was stooping down, and either gathering, or pretended to be gathering Flowers, [Page 63] with her back towards him. Ma­dam (says Lisander when he was come within four or five paces of her) I am glad to— whereupon Clarinda turning her head about, and looking on him, he could go no farther, but stood like one of the Statues in the Garden, that had step'd from the Pedestal. He knew her (such an impression her face had made in his soul) as well as if he had never left her company, since the first time he had seen her, and was so thunder-struck with the surprize, that except she had pitty'd his disorder, and ask'd him how he did, he had certainly remained longer in the Exstasie. As soon as he came a little to himself, he of­fer'd to kiss her hand, but she, who had already resolv'd to make him believe, she did but railly him at the Play, drew back, and deni'd it, telling him with a smile, that the customs of Spain and Flanders [Page 64] were different. Though the Coun­treys be different, (Madam says he) I hope your goodness is still the same, and that your Ladiship cannot differ from your self. No otherwise Sir (says she) than what jest, and earnest make the same Person differ. I remember I saw you at a Play at Brussels, and had a mind to make my self merry with you, but, if that liberty of jest shall any ways influence your Addresses here in Spain, you must not take it ill, if you see me very seldom. Alass! (Madam sayes he) how disproportionate is it to the tender­ness of your Sex, to make your self sport at the expence of anothers ruine. For that jesting (if you call it so) has undone me. And if your jest have such power, and charms in it, what mortal strength can resist, or human force oppose it self to your earnest. The wound which that fatal Edge-tool gave [Page 65] me at that time, had certainly kill'd me before this, but that For­tune (I see) has kept me alive to make her self sport. Sir (says she smiling) I think she has chosen a proper person for the Province, for you do it to a miracle, and 'tis pitty, but we were in some such place, as we first met, that the happy Company might partake with us, and I not blush with laugh­ing at you thus alone. And that's my grief, (Madam says he) but when I have told you, with a Soul­diers freedom, that I love you, that I have done so ever since I first saw you, and that I cannot chuse but do so, as long as I live, laugh on in the name of Merriment, and know that my Passion is not the less serious for your turning it into Ri­dicule. These last words she thought were a little Cholerick, and Savoured of the Souldier, and therefore to let him see he had met [Page 66] with his match: Pray Sir (says she, blushing to think how she play'd the Hypocrite) if you have any kindness for me, let me never hear one word more of it. You cannot chuse but think, that at the Play, I had been told your Cha­racter, and who you were, and I hope you had wit enough to under­stand the Irony: But if you are not convinc'd of your folly with a jest, yet pray be so, when I have told you, you are to blame in good earnest, and so fare-ye-well. With that she mended her pace, and walk'd very fast towards the house, and he to keep himself in counte­nance (if any body should by chance have seen them) march'd along with her, crying all the way (like an importunate Beggar) Nay dear Madam, Sweet Madam, I be­seech you Madam, But one word Madam: What's that Sir (says she?) That you would forgive [Page 67] (says he) what's past, and take no advantage of Poor Lisanders weakness. It is your future be­haviour (says she) that must ob­tain your pardon, and your better Conduct in time to come, that must Apologize for your past weakness. Just as they came into the Hall, the Colonel (who was coming down to Din­ner) met them, and so she left them two together, and ran to her Chamber to tell the Governante the success of the Encounter, and how she had much ado to contain her self, and forbear laughing in his face, to see him run along with her, like a Lacquay, Dear Madam, sweet Madam, and so on.

The Discourse at Table was di­vided between the Colonel, and Lisander. The young Lady (which would have seem'd a little strange to one that had heard her in the [Page 68] Garden, and were not well acquain­ted with the Customs of the Coun­trey) only fill'd a mute place, and gave a negligent Audience. Li­sander was that day a little more Airy than he had been since his Arrival, and the Colonel was well enough pleas'd to imagine, he was a little influenc'd by the Conversa­tion of his Daughter. And re­solv'd from that very moment, to give her more Liberty, than the Conduct of that wary Nation would allow, rather than Lisander should want any honourable occasion of cherishing the tender Sentiments he might begin to have for the Beauti­ful Clarinda.

That evening our Amoroso took a walk all alone about the Town­walls, where his Encounter in the Garden with all its Circumstances (as far as his confusion gave him leave to remember) came fresh [Page 69] into his thoughts. Clarinda he knew had the better of it, and yet he found himself well enough satis­fied for the Defeat, with the unex­pected retrieve of the Lady, whose loss had almost made him desperate. He was not us'd to be non-suited in Addresses of that kind, which made him bear this with a great deal the more impatience. And (though he had Conduct enough to dissemble it in Publick) her Spanish vertue, and severity did but serve to Fan the fire, and make his Passion grow the more impetuous, and unruly.

It was never so troublesome to him, as when he was alone, and yet (which is none of the least Plagues of an unfortunate Lover) he always studied to avoid Com­pany. This desire of Solitude, and some little indisposition which his Melancholy had procur'd, kept him two, or three days in his Cham­ber, [Page 70] where 'tis impossible any man should tell you how he pass'd his time, or what he endur'd, but he, that has row'd in the same Galley.

Sometimes he would lay the fault upon his own bad manage, some­times upon the iron Manners of the Countrey, sometimes upon his own easie inclinations, sometimes upon the case-harden'd temper of the young Lady, and by and by lost, and confounded with the trouble, (like other miserable men) he would cry out, and complain of (I know not what) Starrs, and Influences, and Conjunctions, and Aspects, which (I dare say) knew no more of the matter, than the Man in the Moon. Sometimes he fanci'd he had let slip the Fatal mo­ment, the Critical minute in Flan­ders, and that now it was irrecove­rable, and yet when he call'd to mind her present rigour, and se­verity, [Page 71] his reason told him, that that liberty was only sport, and Burlesque. And when he was once about to flatter himself with her sudden indisposition after she had seen him the first time in the Gar­den, being told upon enquiry, she had had more of those fits, and remembring how coldly, and un­concernedly she had entertain'd him upon the Discovery, all those thoughts abandon'd, and left him full of suspense and irresolution. While he kept his Chamber, Cla­rinda (for more reasons than he knew) sent the Governante to make him several Visits, though the only way to cure him had been to have come her self. Once as she had deliver'd her Ladies Com­pliment (which was brisk, and Gentile enough) he told her smi­ling, that he found so much ease, and benefit in every one of these welcome Messages, that he did [Page 72] really believe, that if her Lady were pleas'd to make a Truce with the Spanish Ceremonies, and make him one Visit her self, her presence would work a Miracle, and set him on his feet again in spite of his Distemper. As soon as Clarinda had receiv'd this pleasant Address from her Patient, she (who had no mind he should be lost for want of so small a Favour) went presently to his Chamber, and with a look full of freedom, and Gallantry told him, that since he had desir'd it, she was come to be his Physician. Madam (says he,) if you have but brought the will of healing along with you, I shall never doubt the cure. Indeed Sir (says she,) but I shall: For I my self know, that I want one of those two main things, which make a Physician complete, That is Skill, and you suppose me to want the other, which is Honesty, and it may be [Page 73] you want that necessary qualifica­tion of a hopeful Patient Faith, so that, methinks, we have a great deal of reason to distrust the suc­cess. By your pardon, Madam (says he,) I can see none at all. For if it be true (which they say,) that every observing man (though no profess'd Physician) knows readily what ails him, where his Grief lies, and what will do him good, then am I confident of your Ladiships Ability in my case, And then for my Faith, I am afraid I shall carry, but too much of it, to my very Grave. But now, if you should (like some of the Faculty, Pardon the Comparison) keep a body in hand, and retard the Cure, either for the advance of some secret In­terest, or the tryal of some curious Experiment, I know not whether I should have more cause to com­plain of you, for the Cure, or the Wound. So Sir (says she) now [Page 74] it's out. Still the old Song, Flames, and Fires, and Darts, and Arrows: If you have nothing else to say I must leave you, lest instead of my curing you, you should infect me, and so, Adieu. With that she step'd to the door, and without any parting Solemnity, left the Distressed Lisander studying a Rejoinder. This haughty Carriage of hers brought him a little to himself. For now he began to consider, that 'tis the Adorer makes the Lady a Deity, that a pityful crouching, and submission, only serves to make the Ambitious insolent, and where it does not meet with a true Gene­rosity, (such as is almost inc [...]n­sistent with the weakness of a wo­man) does but expose the devout to the greater Rigour, and Con­tempt. These, and some other thoughts of the same kind, put the Cane into his hand and led him, as it were in spite of Nature, and [Page 75] his indisposition to take a turn in the Garden. Where he no sooner set his eyes on that Fatal turf, where he discover'd his dear Cla­rinda, but the very imagination of her Person, her Wit, and her Ad­dress, call'd him Traytor to his face, and made all this mighty Re­solution vanish in an Amorous thought.

He found something within him that rebell'd against his reason, and easily soften'd, and overcame his most manly, and best advised de­terminations. His Soul was (on the sudden) once again all Love, and Extasie, and something he re­solv'd to do in the prosecution of it, though he knew not what. And though the Enterprise every way shewed it self very difficult, yet the greatness of his Spirit, which could not be baffled with Trisles, and the violence of his Love which was deaf to all denials, prompted [Page 76] him to go on and prosper, or at worst to fall and die bravely. He kept his Chamber no longer, though for several days Clarinda gave him no occasion to see her but at the Table, where he could say nothing to her, but what the Colonel might hear. Though in­deed all this aversion was but deep Hopocrisie, for she was affected (what pity it was he had not known it) with every word he spoke, and every breath he drew, and what ever the subject was, he always discours'd so well, and so perti­nently that every sentence was his Advocate, and made an impression in her very heart.

The first thing he resolv'd on was to dispossess that unfamiliar Spirit of strangeness, which she hugg'd so close, and made so much of, as well to assure her self of the Con­stancy, and Sincerity of his Love, as to convince him of the Candour, [Page 77] and integrity of her own Honour. The fittest means, he could think of to this purpose, was an Intrigue with the Governante, whom he met almost every day in the Garden. For I must acquaint you by the way, that Clarinda had hir'd her with a new Gown, and Petticoat, only to appear now and then where he was, in hopes of receiving some dear Compliment, or other from him, though but at second hand. The Governante, that very well knew both their minds, chanc'd to be one day in the Garden, where Lisander, after a little sweetning Discourse for a Preface, and her Confidence bought, and paid for with five double Pistols, acquaints her with his Love to Clarinda, and his earnest desire of some proper juncture to wait upon her alone.

She seem'd to be in a little Dis­order at the first hearing of [Page 78] that, (which indeed was no News to her) but the Almighty Gold soon compos'd her Spirit, and made her promise him her utmost assistance in any honourable Design, though she were sure to incur the eternal displeasure of her Lady. Of such soveraign use, and vertue is this Omnipotent Ore in the closing of all breaches, and healing all differences between the two Blind Deities of Love, and Fortune. Hereupon Clarinda resolves, the next day after Dinner, to walk about half a League out of the City to a Coun­trey-house of her Fathers, and the Governante privately acquaints Li­sander with it in the morning (who had been there two or three times with the Colonel. As soon as Dinner was done, he takes a bird­ing Gun in his hand, and about half a mile from the Town (as if it had been by meer accident) he encounters Clarinda, and the Go­vernante [Page 79] walking toward the Coun­trey-house. They were both veil'd as the Spanish Custom is; and though Clarinda pass'd by him without shewing her self, yet the Governante (whom that office bet­ter became) uncover'd her face, and Saluted him, which oblig'd Clarinda in Civility (since they were known) to do so too. He offer'd her his Attendance in the Walk, and that in such a powerful form of words, that a Lady (less inclinable than she) could scarce have refus'd him without the impu­tation of Discourteous, and in fine was accepted for their Salva Guardia. The Governante pre­sently put her self (as Gold, and good Clothes, and good Manners oblig'd her) into the Van-Guard, and gave our Lovers all the occa­sion of Dialogue they could wish.

Lisander who had suffer'd enough [Page 80] for one, and now was jealous of losing another Opportunity, began to tell the Lady that he believ'd Fortune both without his know­ledge, and merit, had done him this Honour to make him satis­faction for all the Torments he had endur'd for her sake. If Fortune have made you satisfaction (says she) then have you nothing to pretend of me. And except you have a mind to make me bad Com­pany, and your self troublesome, Pray let me hear no more of this whining, puling-Love, that makes a man look like one of those Hero's, that is just come from killing of a Giant, to lay himself down and die, for the frown of a Mistress. For this will never take among people that know the World, and what it is to live, I'll assure you. Why then Madam (says he) let me tell you once again in the Rhetorick of a Man of War, I am in Love. [Page 81] And in hast too (says she) me­thinks, But pray take me along with you, and tell me, whereupon is this Love of yours (that you talk so much of) grounded? What do you see in this Face, that should make you think me such a Fool, as to believe you can have any real affection for one that has so little Merit, and is so much a Stranger to you? Madam (says he) the subject of your Merit is a very large field, and the prospect is very fair; but because it wants not my Praises, and because every man else might as well pretend he Loves you for the same Cause, I will pass it by only in a silent Admiration. But when you ask me how I can Love a Stranger, there you do but beg the Question, and command Rea­son from him, that for your sake has entirely lost it. A very fair Confession, Sir, upon my word, (says she.) And can you think, [Page 82] that a Young Lady so Fair, as you say, and of such expectation as others say I am, should ever be persuaded to throw her self away upon one that plainly Confesses he has lost his Reason? And then to say you lost it for my sake is an Ar­gument in the same mood, and figure with his, that, because he had been Trappan'd for a wound he receiv'd in his Majesties Service, pretended to be made one of his Privy Council, or anothers, who having lost his Leg in a Sea-fight against the Turk, came to Madrid hopping, and hoping to be made one of the Kings Footmen. This will never do your business, Sir, and till you have more Reason, let me intreat you to trouble me with none at all. Lisander was almost Mad (and it would have made any body so) that a man, that wore a Sword, should be run down, at this rate, with a Distaff. And [Page 83] (stareing her full in the Face) Madam (says he with some little heat) you may as well Command me not to breath, or bid my Pulse stand still, as hinder me from Loving, where I see I must needs repent, though (alass!) too late. A certain Demonstration I have yet Reason enough left me to see I am miserable. Thus dull, and insipid were the poor Lisanders ap­plications, and he was never in his life known to have so little Wit, as now, when he stood most in need of it. As it often happens to men of good sense, that, when they have a mind to speak best, and de­liver their minds in the most proper, and apposite words, have many times enough to do, to keep them­selves clear of Nonsense, and So­laecism. Clarinda knew well enough, it was the trouble of his mind that made his Wit run so muddy, for she had often heard him play the [Page 84] Orator, and speak fluently on a dry Subject. At last his Passion quite stopt his Mouth, she had the field to her self, and now she talk'd without an Answer. It had cer­tainly been a very pleasant Enter­tainment to see the Ingenious Lieu­tenant Colonel March on, like one of Pythagoras's Undergraduates, all Ears, and no Mouth, and the Lady all the while Philosophizing to him. Sir (says she) (for she never design'd he should despair) if you be not happy it is your own fault. A wise man has more in­fluence upon his own Fortune and content, than all the Constellations of the Firmament, as well those that have beards as those that have none. For where he cannot form his Fortune to his mind, he forms his mind to his Fortune. Thus Happyness has oftentimes its foun­dation in the Opinion, or Desire, so that Desire without hopes be­comes [Page 85] a Disease, To desire, or take a fancy for what we cannot obtain, is to lay Snares for our selves, and to be Authors of our own misery. When she had finish'd this Ha­rangue, says Lisander, like a man that's going to take leave of the World before his time; Let every body take warning by my Exam­ple, and may Heaven, and good Fortune defend all honest Gentle­men from those Ladies, that have been bred in Cloysters. With this, and such like Discourse, they pass'd the time, till they came to the Countrey-house, where they had a neat Collation, and a glass of Wine in Ice, and so home again. All the way homewards Lisanders Love was the Ladies Game. It was well for him that Jeers do not go through ones Clothes, other­wise he had (at that time) re­ceiv'd more Wounds, than Julius Caesar in the Senate. I will not [Page 86] undertake to tell you how he found himself all this while, I refer you to those Gentlemen, that have smarted under the same lash. When they were within half a mile of the City, comes a Gentleman (as if he had been sent from Heaven for Lisanders Deliverance) in his Boots, and Riding-dress, and pre­sents him a Paper. Which when he had open'd prov'd a Commission from the King for him to go to Sea. Now it is the Custom of Spain, for some three Months every Sum­mer, to send five, or six Galleys, to scowre the Coasts, and secure the Kingdoms of Naples, and Sicily, and the Places thereabout, from the Corsairs, or Turkish Pirates. It was for this Service that four Companies were Order'd to be drawn out of that Regiment, and the Lieutenant Colonel to Com­mand them. Lisander (whose will never disputed with the Kings [Page 87] Service) was well enough satisfied with the Honour, though it may be, another, that had Lov'd, as he did, would have receiv'd the Mes­sage with some surprise. He was glad to be deliver'd a while from Clarinda's Tyranny, and he hop'd that two, or three Months absence (which has a wonderful Ascendant over young Lovers) might favour both his Love, and Fortune. As soon as they heard Lisander, and the Gentleman discoursing the Af­fair, Clarinda turn'd her self round about upon the Governante, and look'd like Death. The Gover­nante who was afraid she should have fallen down, immediately whisper'd in her Ear, that she was sure it was a Design, and a Trick only to discover her Inclinations. This Invention of the Governante's was very sudden, and seasonable; for had she scratch'd her head for it never so little, her Lady had [Page 88] miscarried, and the Secret had taken Air. But, as soon as she heard this, she presently recover'd the trouble, without the least no­tice, the Discourse was so earnest between Lisander, and the Gen­tleman. As soon as they came into the House, the Governante hasten'd Clarinda to her Chamber, for fear she should have met the News again, before she came there. As soon as ever they were alone, and the door shut, Dear Madam (says the Governante) be not suppris'd, but the News is most true, that the Lieutenant Colonel is to go to Sea, but I persuaded you in the field, it was not so, for fear you should have discover'd your weak­ness, and he have gone away with the Triumph. The Roses of Cla­rinda's cheeks crept into their Beds, and all the time of the Governante's Relation, she stood still, and said nothing; but as soon as the Gover­nante [Page 89] had done, she fell a crying, and taking on, like a Woman that had Buried her only Son. Had not the Governante held her, she would have run directly to find her Lisan­der, so furious was her Love, not­withstanding all her Coy pretences, and dissimulation.

The Governante us'd all the Ar­guments, that the Affair in that conjuncture would admit, and all little enough too, to keep her from betraying the violence of her Love, by ways most monstrous and ridi­culous. At last (when Clarinda could hear) and the Governante came to tell her, that it was but for two or three months, she was a little better compos'd, and begg'd the Governante to help her to Bed. That night the Governante went to Lisander (who was to go about his Commission very early next morning) in her Ladies name, to [Page 90] wish him a good Voyage, and a safe Return; and told him she was weary with the walk, and in Bed, or she would have waited upon him her self. This was all to dissemble Clarinda's disorder, and keep it secret between them two. All that night she never laid her eyes together. She rose more than twenty times, to look for that sor­rowful day, which she fear'd might be the last she was ever to see her beloved Lisander. At length the day broke, and about Sun-rising the Colonel, and Lisan­der were both before the Gate un­der Clarinda's Window taking leave. They embrac'd one another, and parted (as they were wont upon such occasions) like good Soul­diers full of joy, and warm hopes. For Lisander was going on an Er­rand, which was like to bring him both Money and Honour, and for the Dangers he might meet wi [...] [Page 91] he never thought of them before they came, nor talk'd of them when they were once pass'd. Cla­rinda was waiting in her Window, and though it did not become her to speak, yet she bow'd her self, and sent him away with such passio­nate Wishes, as no heart, but one as warm as hers, can ever conceive.

All the time of his absence she pleas'd her self with nothing, but thinking and speaking of Lisander. She, and the Governante would (I know not how many times a day) be calculating, how far he might be off, how long he had been absent, and when they might expect his Return. Sometimes they would be mustering up their pretty Re­marks upon his Actions, as his Walking, his Speaking, his Salut­ing, his Laughing and his Frown­ing; and another while they would be talking of his Person, his Face, [Page 92] his Eyes, his Hair, his Wast, his Arms, his Hands, his Legs, his Feet, and what not. When they had spent something above two months in these little Entertain­ments, News came, that the Kings Galleys were in sight of Barcellona, and homewards bound. They had taken more Prizes, and Prisoners that Summer, than they had in seven Summers before, in which Honour Lisander had the greatest share, besides a Dividend of fifty thousand pieces of Eight. That part of the Regiment, which stay'd behind, was drawn down to the Shore, and receiv'd the Compa­nies on board with three Vollies of Shot, who return'd the Com­plement with three more. And thence, as soon as they were land­ed, Lisander led them into the Town, which bad them welcomer than ever they had done any Soul­diers in their lives, because they [Page 93] brought Money with them. There was, as much (and more) crowding to see Lisander, as if they had never seen him in their lives. And as he march'd through the Streets, in the head of the Re­giment, there was as many Win­dows open, as it had been at a Co­ronation. The Colonel was at that time at Madrid, and was to stay there five or six weeks to receive Instructions and Money for Re­cruiting his Regiment, which had suffer'd great loss in the Wars of Flanders. So that Lisander chose rather to provide himself Quarters in another House, than to give the World the least occasion to censure, either his Prudence, or the young Ladies Conduct in her Fathers ab­sence. Clarinda was more sensible of Lisanders Honour, and affected with his good Fortune, than he was himself; and therefore the Gover­nante advis'd her to keep her Cham­ber, [Page 94] as well for fear of being a­broad when he came to Visit, as for fear of discovering the Fire in her Heart, by the light of her Countenance. And yet it was re­solv'd between them, either be­cause they knew they had him fast, or to see how much a great Spirit could bear, she should shew him but just the same Curtezy, and receive him with the very same Civility that she would do a meer Stranger. Alass, that any honest mans Quiet and Satisfaction should be deter­min'd by the false weights, and measures, by the Hypocrisie, and Dissimulation of a cruel, and ill-natur'd Woman!

Every body that knock'd at the Gate alarm'd Clarinda with the same transport, and surprize, as if it had been Lisander himself, for, whoever knock'd, she still fancy'd it was he. The next day, about [Page 95] two of the Clock, when he thought no body could either suspect, or observe his hast, he went to make his dear Clarinda a Visit. She had already resolv'd the manner of his Entertainment, which was this: She met, and receiv'd him in her Antichamber, suffer'd him to kiss her hand, and so led him into her Chamber. After she had discours'd him a while, she sate her down upon her Estrado, and left this Child of Fortune to Court her standing upon his feet, with his Hat under his Arm.

After he had signified his sense of the Colonels Absence, and then Comforted both her, and himself with the great necessity, and ad­vantage of it, he began by gentle degrees, to make her new Tenders of his old Services. The Fame, and Success of his Voyage, and his fair reception inspir'd him with [Page 96] mighty hopes, that now his hand was in, he should carry his Mistress too. The torrent of his words was brisker, and more luxuriant, than it us'd to be, and one would have thought, he had reserv'd the choice Meditations of two whole Months, and more, for this very occasion. I need not tell you what effect his Rhetorick had upon Cla­rinda's Spirit, but certainly it was such, as no Lady in the world, but her self, could have dissembled. The moment of Lisanders happy­ness, and her yielding was not yet come, and therefore with three, or four Sentences, and as many grave Regards she Answer'd him, That she was very sensible he was a person every way compleat, and hansom, and that his Character, and Employment had been always such, as might render any man considerable. That his late Naval Service had won him old Gold, and [Page 97] new Lawrels, and for ever enroll'd his Name among the Favourites of Fame, and Fortune. That for these reasons, he would do well to think of some Amours, that might be more to his advantage, and if these considerations would not pre­vail with him to desist, she assur'd him, that besides the inequality of their Fortunes, she had already dispos'd of her Heart, and could not by any means think of altering her Resolutions. Lisander heard all this with the very same looks, that a Convicted Prisoner receives the Sentence of his Death. Little did he think where she had dispos'd her heart, nor would the Agony give him leave, so much as once to imagine, it might fall to his share. But as soon, as his cold fit was over, he told her suddenly, and with a heat little less than that of Anger, how ill she had requited all his past Services; and that if his Despair [Page 98] did not prove Mortal, he would hereafter study to take such mea­sures, as might give neither of them so much trouble, or disquiet. Sir (says she) I do extremely applaud your Resolution, and I know no other Expedient that can restore the great Opinion, I have always had, of your Conduct, and discre­tion. Thus did Lisander take his leave, resolving to maintain no other Familiarity with her, for the future, than what might just vindicate hhn from the imputation of ill breeding.

That same night, that he might seem to take his leave Gentilely, he brought two, or three of his Offi­cers, who were excellent Musitians, and his Confidents, before Clarin­da's Lodgings, to give her this parting Serenade under the name of Chloris.

This was the pleasantest Scene in the world to Clarinda, and the Governante, who were well ac­quainted with Lisanders Passion, and knew it was not in his power to stay away above two, or three days at most. They were ready to fall down with laughing to see him Cock his Hat, and act the Cruel, that, for all this appearance, would at the same time have fallen down on both his knees for a Par­don, [Page 100] and have broke all the Instru­ments to boot, with all his heart, for consenting to the Song.

However, to make her believe he was in good earnest, and to try whether he could make Clarinda jealous, the very next night he went, and made Love in another place. It was a Spanish Address to a young Lady of Quality, perform'd upon the Street (as the manner is) just before her Lodgings. He measur'd the ground, more than a hundred times backward, and for­ward, with many a false, languishing look toward the poor abused Lady in the Window. He had two of the hardest parts to Act, at that time, that ever any man in the world undertook, to pretend a false Passion, and dissemble a true one. The poor Lady was so pleas'd with Lisanders Service (for all the Town knew him) that had not Modesty, [Page 101] and the Custom of the Nation restrain'd her, she could never have stood to make more than two words to the bargain, here's the one, here's the other, and ee'n have let him in to rights.

She began in the space of two, or three nights application, to value her self, not so much upon her own, as upon the merit of Lisan­der, and made no more difficulty of entertaining his Love, than one, that had fasted three days, would to go to dinner.

In the mean while Clarinda who had still the news of all that pass'd, was resolved to fail with the same wind, to entertain another ser­vant, and see whether he, or she could brook a Rival with less im­patience. Having resolv'd on the Design she communicated it to the Governante, who was the best [Page 102] Manager of such an Intrigue, that could be, and so they presently pitched upon the Gentleman. There was a Gentleman, you must know, that in Lisanders absence, had made two, or three attempts to no purpose, to insinuate himself into Clarinda's service, and grow­ing cholerick with the disappoint­ment (which is the most unpar­donable weakness a man can be guilty of) was bold to name the Lady, without that respect, and tenderness which were the un­questionable dues of her Vertue, and Discretion. The words in the proper and usual sence signifi'd well enough, but, because they were ambiguous, and capable of a bad Construction (which it may be he design'd) he was thought the fittest man in the World to be Lisander's Rival. For they could not but suspect, that when Lisan­der came to understand his pre­tensions, [Page 103] he would certainly grow impatient, and his Passion might at once revenge his own, and Cla­rinda's wrongs, in giving his Ri­vall the Bastinado. The Design be­ing thus laid, the next morning they met the Cavalier at Mass where (never dreaming that she knew how he had injur'd her) he was almost ravish'd, to See Clarinda cast now, and then an amorous Glance upon him, as it were by stealth, and as if she were afraid to be seen. He began to consider whe­ther he had alter'd his Garb, or she her mind, but wherever the Secret lay, he was sure she had conceiv'd some advantageous sen­timents of his Person, and there­fore his Wisdom thought it fit to push his good fortune, and strike while the Iron was hot. As they were coming out of the Church, she look'd back upon him again, which sufficiently confirm'd his [Page 104] opinion, and made him resolve to go Serenade her that very night. The good Gentleman spent the whole day in providing himself of four of the best Musitians, that were to be had in the City, to grace the solemnity. And, at night, full of expectation, he made a fine Parade with his Fidlers before her window, where he began to Sing her such a parcel of doggerel Couplet, of his own making, as might very well have given him a right to a good drub­bing, though he had never done any thing else amiss in all his life. Lisander, who had his Spyes a­broad, presently got notice of it, as he was practising Love in the next street, Sacrificing whole Hecatombs of flying Kisses, and paying a thousand silent speaking Reverences to his new Saint. You must pardon him, if he took his leave a little abruptly; for the [Page 105] counterfeit Passion, he had for his new Mistress, easily gave place to the true one he had for his Ri­val. Lest the Serenaders should have lost their labour, away he goes in all hast, attended only by two of his own Souldiers, that brought him the intelligence, who were trusty fellows, and excellent com­pany in a doubtful occasion. As soon as ever they came up with the Musick, without any other greeting, at a matter of half a dozen blows, they broke two fid­dles, and as many heads, whereof his Rival's chanc'd to be one. This Adventure was one of the stillest (of a rough one) that ever I heard of. The Enemy took the retreat without so much as say­ing, what's the meaning of this? So that there was not one word of complaint, or controversie, nor the least noise in the World, be­sides that of the staves. For Lisan­der [Page 106] came not to fight and quarrel, but to correct, and chastise, and the poor Fidlers were so frighted with the surprise, that they quite forgot they had any swords on. Clarinda, who was a party in the action and saw all the circum­stances of it, from her window, better than they that perform'd it, was better pleas'd than ever she was with any thing in all her life. And as soon as she could for laughing, she vow'd to the Go­vernante, that the Gentlemans Dishonour should for ever excuse her from shewing him the least favour. But she might have spar'd that breath, for Don was a Spani­ard, and was so much asham'd to have suffer'd such an affront, and so tamely before his Mistress, that he durst sooner thought of dying, than of ever coming in to her sight again.

Lisander having by this action confessed the power of his Love, and his impotence to dissemble it, presented himself the next day to Clarinda, made a profound sub­mission, and beg'd her pardon. She found her own strength, and his weakness, and intending to make her own use of both, she told him, that his relation to the Colonell, and his own merit, should at any seasonable hours open him the doors of that House, and make him welcome as a Friend; But if he still persisted to pretend any farther, she must be forc'd to make use of those Expedi­ents, which she was not willing to think of. Lisander had enough to say, but durst not answer one word at that time, for fear of moving her displeasure, which was more terrible to him, than a Cannon in a breach, charg'd with small shot. However he still frequent­ed [Page 108] the House, and was as familiar there as if he had been at home. And though it was directly for­bidden him, yet when he found Clarinda in a good humor, he could not chuse but give the old string now and then a gentle touch, and let her see by Some passing Trope that his Love was above her rigour. When he spoke so plain that she was oblig'd to take notice of it, he was sure to lose her Company for that time, which made him day, and night beat his brains, and weary himself to find out some desperate Remedy, that might either kill, or cure; Some Expedient to set Clarinda on the rack, and force her with one breath to determine the success of his weary Love. For a downright Despair, he knew could make him dy but once, whereas, that doubtful hope, that temper'd Cruelty, those corrected Poysons, [Page 109] made him ready to give up the Ghost once, or twice a day. And what gave him very wonderful apprehensions, his utmost dili­gence could never yet learn, who (as she told him) she had dispos'd of her Heart; for he never heard, that she entertain'd any Gentle­man, but himself. In the midst of this perplexity, Love, and For­tune, who had long pittyed his sufferings laid their heads together, and undertook his Deliverance, which was thus.

Lisander having a mind to see the Regiment together, and ex­ercise them, Commanded them to be in Arms by the Sea-shore next morning at the opening of the Gates. It happen'd the same Evening, that four tall Ships were come to anchor near the shore to take in fresh water, and as soon as ever it was light in the morning, [Page 110] loos'd their foretop-sails, and were weighing anchor, intending with­in two hours to be under Sail a­gain. Lisander who was upon the shore with the Regiment, gave his Captain Commandant instruct­ions what to do, till he came back, and went privately into the City to try his last practice upon Clarinda. He came up to her Chamber door, and knock'd in more hast than he us'd to do, and the Governante opened him the door; for her Lady was just up. As soon as he enter'd the room, the Governante withdrew, imagin­ing he might have some extraordi­nary business, because it was so early, and he seem'd to be in such hast. Now Madam (says he) to Clarinda, I am come to take my leave of you, and (as I have often done in jest) bid you Farewel for ever, in good earnest. And with that he led her to the win­dow, [Page 111] shew'd her the Regiment on the Shore, the Ships with their fore-topsails loose, and their anchors on peak. And then told her, that, last night late, he had received News, that there were great appearances of another War with France, and an Order to em­barque, in those Ships with the Regiment for Flanders again, where the Colonell was to meet them.

That he had not a moment to stay, but beg'd her a thousand pardons for all the indiscretions, which his passionate Love might ever have been guilty of, and wish'd her all the satisfaction she could ever hope, or promise her self in her own unmovable Inclina­tions. Clarinda during this Nar­ration, turn'd her eyes, I know not how many times, from Lisan­der to the Ships, and from the [Page 112] Ships to Lisander. And seeing the trouble, and confusion he was in, (which indeed was for fear his Project should have miscar­ry'd) She threw her arms about his neck, and fell on weeping most pittifully. Had it been to save both their lives, She could not have spoken one word; but with the same hold, She kiss'd him a thousand times, and wet all his face with her tears. Lisander seeing the fury of her Passion, began to mistrust the Effects of it, and was ready to repent the Experiment. And though he knew there was no reason for it, yet he could al­most have found in his heart to have wept for company. Dear Madam (says he) speak, and let me go. Never, Never, my dear Lisander (says she,) and so she fell on weeping again with that violence that she could not get out another word. As soon as she [Page 113] was come a little to her self, False, and perfidious man (says she) could thy Cruelty find no other way to put an end to this misera­ble life of mine? Is this the fruit of all your Vows, and Oaths? Is this indeed the end of all your pre­tended Love, and Constancy? Dear Lisander let me in pitty die by your hand to prevent that more cruell, and unfortunate death, which I shall meet in your absence. Madam (says he, with no little amazement,) If all this be Love, it is either very young, or you have been extremely in the wrong to dissemble it all this while. For now, Dear Madam I must tell you, the time is pass'd, and 'tis too late to recall it. Bear your fate, as well as you may, though I am sure in a very little time to sink under mine. And whereas a seasonable freedom might have made us both happy, [Page 114] this ill-tim'd Love of yours, worse than Disdain, shews it self too late, like a flash of Gunpowder after the Execution is done. May my grief, and hard fate (says she) light on them, that first impos'd this un­easie modesty, this self-murdering reservation upon the frailty of our Sexe. I have lov'd you, my Dear Lisander, as my own Soul, ever since the first time I saw you; it is to you I have dispos'd my Heart, and methinks a man of your rea­son, might have read as much in my very Eyes. Dear Lisander, either stay here, or take me with you, or do something— and then her sorrow interrupted her again, that she could go no far­ther. Madam (says he) I had been the happiest of all mortal men, had I but known you Inclina­tions a little sooner; but it's now to late. I can neither take you a­long with me, nor yet disobey [Page 115] the Kings Order, and stay here. All I can say, is this, If I have but one half hours [...]easure, before we set Sail, I will wait upon you again to receive your last Com­mands. With that they kiss'd, and Embrac'd one another once again, and so they parted. As soon as Lisander was gone the Governante came in, and found the sorrowful Lady groveling upon the bed, with her face towards the pillow, striving in vain to stiffle that Grief, which was now grown stubborn, and unruly. She was a good while before she could tell her the sad tidings, which when she had ended, she fell on raving, and cursing the advice, and conduct of all such Governantes. Poor Leonora knew not what to say or do. She would have told her, as she did the last time in the field, that it was all meer design, and fiction, but she [Page 116] foresaw, that Wheadle was not like to pass twice. And finding her Lady utterly incapable both of comfort, and counsel, she told her, she would step down to the shore, and inform her self better. That it may be, things were not altogether so desperate, as she fancy'd them; and if there were any thing left to hope, they would leave nothing unattempted, that might contribute to her satisfaction. Drowning men catch at any thing. And seeing the Governante had yet some little heart, Clarinda rais'd her face a little from the Pillow, and bade her go. The Governante made fewer strides to to the shore, than ever she did in her life (though it were to an Assignation.) And finding a huge croud of people there (who were come to see the Regiment Exercise) and seeing Marriners so busie at work she never so much as doubted [Page 117] the truth of Lisander's Relation. As soon as ever an occasion pre­sented it self, she saluted one of those Officers, which I was tel­ling you were Lisanders Confi­dents, and wished him a fair Wind and a good voyage. What do ye mean Madam (says he?) I mean to Flanders Sir (says she.) Not this year I hope (says he) Madam, we were there but too lately. Pray Sir (says she) whither are you bound then? No whither Madam (says he) that I know, but to Exercise. And just then the Lieutenant Colonel call'd him to his command. This Officer presently imagin'd there was some­thing in the bottom of the Gover­nantes discourse, but he thought it inconsistent with his discretion to sound her, or enquire any fur­ther. The Governante run home again like lightning, and by the way two or three of her acquain­tance [Page 116] [...] [Page 117] [...] [Page 118] asked her, if she had been to see the Regiment Exercise, which confirm'd her, that the Story of returning to Flanders was but one of Lisanders Practices upon the Lady. The good News drove her home again in as much hast, as the fright had driven her abroad, and had it not been for drawing the boys after her, I be­lieve she had gone faster. As soon as ever she came into the Chamber, Courage Madam (says she) Cou­rage, And when she had breath enough, She told her, We are abus'd, Madam. There is no such thing. The Regiment is not go­ing on board: It is only exercising upon the shore. And if you please to come to the window here, you may see them, (For till then she durst scarce have look'd out, though a look would have s [...]ay'd the Regiment.) It was then, that Clarinda first began to reflect [Page 119] upon Lisanders Policy, and her own weakness. And going to the window, she saw the Ships sail, and the Regiment continue their Exercise upon the shore. The tacite shame, and sense of her dishonour was almost as troublesome, as if the Regiment had sail'd indeed. Sometimes she fancy'd it a Judg­ment upon her from the God of Love, (if there be any such Deity) for her hypocrisie in his service and her bad usage of Lisander. Sometimes she thought Lisander had but pay'd her her own, and that his Revenge was but just. And sometimes she was in pain to think, how she should receive him the next time he came. When the Exercise was done, and Lisander had led the Regiment to the Market-Place, and discharg'd them, they saw him give his Pike to his servant, and come directly towards her Lodgings. She bade the Go­vernante [Page 120] step to the door, and tell him, her Lady was not well. The Governante did so; to whom he made no other reply, but, that he was sorry for it, and sent her his service, and so march'd off. This Excuse (as he look'd upon it) of her indisposition, madded him to the very heart, and made him resolve, now he knew her secret, that he would never see her again, till he was sent for. Three days, and three nights did these Lovers keep their points, each of them expecting the other should address first. In the end Lisander had the better of it, and let her see what it was for a Woman to slight a Person whom she lov'd. She could endure no longer than the fourth day, and then she sent the Go­vernante early in the morning, to meet him at Mass, and invite him to her Lodgings. The Gover­nante did so, and he promis'd he [Page 121] would come, though he told her it could not be till afternoon, for he was engag'd to dine with a Friend.

This was a little strange to Cla­rinda, for she had known the time when he would not have deferr'd the favour, to have din'd with an Emperor. About four of the Clock he came, and the Governante (as she was Commanded) went forth of the Chamber, as she let him in. Clarinda was sitting upon her Estrado at her Needle, where Li­sander with a Smile march'd up to her, and Saluted her, which she return'd with a grave, and Modest regard. She had not yet determin'd what to do, or how to behave her self, but look'd very Pensive and Melancholy, and whatever he said, she Answer'd him all along with a Monosyllable, and Sennor. At length Madam (says he) if I [Page 122] thought my Presence made your Ladyship uneasie, I would take my leave. With that she stuck her needle in her Work, and looking him full in the face. Sir (says she) Wherein have I deserv'd to be us'd so like one of your Gallina's? Or what have I done, that you could think of exposing my weak­ness thus? What is become of all that pretended Passion, and coun­terfeit Tenderness of yours? Or where is that respect, and Civility, which in Justice all Gentlemen of your Character owe the Ladies? But I Confess it is too good for me. My easiness at the first Interview, made you think me fit to receive impressions, and all my seve­rity, since that minute, could never set me right again in your Opinion. In vain, Alas! were the holy Sisters so many years in building, and adorning a Structure, which this false Ingrate has in a moment [Page 123] ruin'd, and laid in the dust. In vain have they inculcated the obli­gations of our Sex, and read me so many Lectures of Decency, and Modesty, which were all but like words written on a Wave, or like the Faith, and Promises of this Wretch, whose Deceit, and Trea­chery has taken, and demolish'd all the Out-works of my Honour, and left me nothing (Alas!) which I can call my own, but the Maiden-Castle. And then she fell a weep­ing, which gave Lisander time to Answer. Madam (says he) when you have heard me speak, if you think it fit, it will be time enough to Condemn me. What Error have I Committed, in making you Confess a truth, the concealment whereof (for ought I know) might have prov'd Fatal to us both, and have cost us much dearer, than the Discovery? And as long as I am just, and honourable (that is as long as [Page 124] I live) how can I think of exposing your weakness? The Secret is among our selves, and, without you shall think meet to Discover it, is like to remain so. And now you see how forc'd, and unnatural the Sisters Breeding is: How insuppor­table those Customs are, that oblige us to dissemble our strongest desires, to slight what we Love, and run away from our own Happyness.

And whereas, Madam, you seem to find your self afflicted, for the indecency (as you are pleas'd to call it) of this last Accident, and may suspect it may have some untoward Influence upon my Love, I will tell you, Madam, that where­as my Passion was always true, and sincere, yet before, it wanted this to make it complete, to know I was belov'd. And now, Madam (that you have seen the vanity of it) if you please to set aside all starch'd Behaviour, and Spanish [Page 125] Formality, Let us be friends, and never fall out again; for I Love you better than ever I did, and will do so whilst I breath.

At these words she threw down her seam, and rising up hastily, she threw her Arms about his Neck, and Kiss'd him with as much tenderness, as she had done when he pretended to return for Flanders. My dear Lisander (says she) we have escap'd the Storm, and are now in safe Harbour, where we may securely pity, or laugh at the Distress of those, that must yet make sport for Neptune, and the Winds. We have nothing left us now to do, but to Enjoy one another, and be Happy. And so she took the willing Lisander by the hand, and made him sit down by her upon her Estrado. I shall (for good Considerations) take no notice what farther Endear­ments might pass between this happy Pair. Nor would I have [Page 126] any longing Lover so much as de­sire to know. They were both persons, that understood themselves well, and therefore it would be rude to doubt, or enquire into their Conduct. Lisander continued his Visits, just as he us'd to do, and yet when there happen'd to be any Strangers by, he kept as great a distance, and us'd as much caution, and diligence in his Behaviour, as he did in the first of their Acquain­tance. But when they were alone▪ their Conversation was free, and Gallant, and had no reservation in it, but such as serv'd to heighten their Pleasures.

Sometimes they entertain'd one another with the curious Story of their Amours. Sometimes he frighted her into his Arms, with the terrible Relation of some despe­rate Adventure in the War. And sometimes she drew him into hers, [Page 127] with some soft, and melting Air upon the Lute, which she touch'd to Admiration, and Charm'd him with some Passionate Song.

I cannot omit to give you one of them, wherein she does most ex­cellently Paint her own Passion, and (as far as the Cause would bear it) Apologize for her own Infirmity. It was perform'd one calm Evening in a close Walk in the Garden, when she had call'd for her Lute, and dismiss'd the Ser­vants. The words were these:

But the Heaven was too clear, and the Weather too calm to continue long so, And when their Bliss had once arriv'd at its Meri­dian, you cannot but expect it should decline again. Within the space of one Month the Hony be­gan to lose its Tast, and both their Passions began to lose something of their Warmth, and Vigour. There was neither of them so fond of the others Company, as they us'd to be, though they were both willing to Conceal it. I know not whether they had surfeited of their own Happyness, or whether some secret Guilt, or remorse made their Love irksome, and imbitter'd the fruiti­on; but certain it is, that the Fa­miliarity they had Contracted by these tedious, and difficult Methods, did (like a Rivulet exhausted by the Summer Sun) insensibly begin to fail, and resolve its self into its first Elements of Strangeness; so [Page 130] that neither of them car'd, how seldom they met, but for fear of disobliging the other. It chanc'd in the mean time that an English Seaman brought Lisander a Letter, of some eight Months date, from his Dear, and Virtuous Sabina, to whom he had plighted his first Vows, and whom in all his Gallan­tries he had never forgot. The Contents were these:

In the same Moment that he read this Letter, he resolv'd upon his return, and began to think of an excuse for his long Absence. And calling for Pen, and Ink, he deli­ver'd the Seaman (who was home­ward bound) this Answer:

Immediately in order to his De­parture, he dispatch'd another Let­ter to the Colonel, to satisfie him of his Resolution, and desire him to procure him his Majesties Dis­charge, and for some Considera­tions of his own enjoyn'd him all the Secresie, the Affair was capable of. The Colonel (having lost all hopes of having Lisander his Son-in-Law) wrote Clarinda word, that he had provided her a Husband at Madrid, and Commanded her to prepare for her Journey thither, within fourteen days.

These two Letters of the Colo­nel, and Sabina were receiv'd by [Page 134] our Lovers with equal joy, and conceal'd from one another with equal industry; and both of them make private preparations for their several Journeys. Cla­rinda presently wrote to her Father, that he would take no notice to any body of the Match, because the event was yet uncertain, and so he never so much as mention'd it in his Letter to Lisander. About fourteen days afterwards, in the same Pacquet (Directed to Lisan­der) came the Kings Discharge, and the Ladies Commands to set forth for Madrid. They both began their Journey on the same day, and both under false Colours, and Pre­tences. And though they had been both very well content with the whole truth, yet neither of them durst begin to declare. They were each of them very sparing in asking Questions about the others Journey, for fear of being oblig'd [Page 135] to Answer some about their own.

At parting they took a very For­mal, and Compos'd leave without the least Transport or Passion, at which they both extremely won­der'd. After parting the only thing they were each of them very soli­citous about, was the great trouble, and perplexity which would seize upon the other, when the Mystery came to be reveal'd. Lisander doubted how poor Clarinda would receive the News of his Departure for England, and her greatest af­fliction was, to think how he would endure to hear of her Mar­riage.

When Lisander came to Paris, he was inform'd by Letters in the Post-office from the Colonel (for all things were now concluded, and [Page 136] made Publick) that his Daughter was happyly Marri'd, which made Lisander finish his Journey to Lon­don with great satisfaction. And the Colonel had told Clarinda up­on her Arrival, that Lisander had got his Discharge and was gone for England, which remov'd the Secret grief, and trouble which would otherwise have been part of the fur­niture of her Marriage-bed. He was not many days before he Lan­ded at Dover, with about threescore thousand pieces of Eight in Bills of Exchange, and Spanish Gold, a Gentleman, Four men in Livery, and Seven Chosen Spanish Horses. He was receiv'd at Dover, by seve­ral both of his own, and Sabina's Friends who had notice of his Reso­lution by the Post, and were well agreed on all sides about the Mar­riage, which now wanted nothing, but the Consummation.

When he came to London, he was Conducted to Sabina's Lodging, and very splendidly Entertain'd, where the overjoy'd Lady threw her self into his Arms, and in the Extasie could not speak one word beside, Welcome, my Dear Lisander.