A Gallant and True HISTORY.

IT is the Custom amongst the Turks, to pass the three Festi­val Days of the Bayram, in pub­lic rejoycings. Those Sultanesses that have their particular Palaces in the City of Constantinople and near unto it, go to the Seraglio to Visit the Sultanesses, which at o­ther times are not seen. There they pass these three days, in Sports, Feasts and Dances.

Those amongst the Slaves, that are not Employ'd in Singing or Dancing, which makes the Chief Divertisement of the Princes, re­tire themselves in some Appart­ment, where they Sport amongst themselves.

[Page 32]One day that Bournaz Atidgé, the Sultaness, Sister to Sultan Morat, was at the Seraglio with Tarhain Sultaness Validé, Mother to the Grand Segnior now Reign­ing. Those two Sultanesses who were very good Friends, being desirous to entertain themselves in Private, dismiss'd their Slaves.

Some of them very good friends, separated themselves from the rest, that they might with more free­dom entertain one another. They turn'd their Conversation on the Love of Gulbeas white rose. She was the principal Slave of the Sultaness Validé; That Maid, at first made some resistance, either through Modesty, or to spare her self the Sorrow of the remem­brance of a Beloved Lover. Yet she yeilded at last to her Compa­nions Importunities.

She told them that she had pass'd divers years without knowing what was Love, though she daily [Page 33] heard her Companions Discourse of that Passion; which produced such strange Effects in those Maids mind, that she could perceive them to pass in an instant, from joy to sadness, and from Love to their Jealousy, and Desire, and that Faces would change as frequently as their Hearts were agitated with different Passions: That so Wo­ful a Condition had caus'd her to fear such like Engagements, and that she had shun'd them as much as she could: But at last, said she, Love anger'd at my resistance, forc'd me to yeild to his Power, and inspired in me some Feelings of Tenderness for a Young Turk, Neighbour to a Jew, with whom I Boarded, to Learn the Exercises of Reading, Writing, Singing, Playing on Divers Instruments, and Dancing, in Order to be Ad­mitted into the Seraglio.

This Turk named Issouf, Son to Mahomet Bassa, was both Neigh­bour [Page 34] and good Friend to the Jew, and he did frequently come to his House, to hear me Sing. He con­ceiv'd so strong a Passion for me, that he pass'd both Days and Nights at his Window, or in his Garden to see me: And one day, he ventur'd to spake to me of his Love, but his Discourses made so small Impression on my mind, that I had not at that time the least Sentiment of Tenderness for him.

Sometime after that Person who had put me to the Jew, finding me sufficiently Instructed, Pre­sented me to the Sultaness my Mistriss. Absence, which is a great Remedy against Love, instead of alaying Issoufs Passion, serv'd but to increase it, while I liv'd, with­out the least disturbance in the Seraglio, where Love had not yet disturb'd my Rest.

He did endeavour by all sorts of means to learn some News of [Page 35] the Person he lov'd; all his en­deavours were fruitless, The Gates of the Womens Apartment are in­accessible places. Those Cerbe­ruses that keep them, enraged and desperate to find themselves de­priv'd of that which might render them agreeable to so many Beauties which they have under their Con­duct, become Jealous, and have more Eyes then Argus to examine all their Actions.

So many difficulties had a most repuls'd Issouf, who had consu­mated three years in fruitless At­tempts. He did Abandon himself to Grief and complaining, when one of his Friends who shar'd in his Sorrow, inform'd him that a Jewish Woman Merchant, named Boullaster, had free Access in the Seraglio, where she sold a great many J [...]wels to the Sultanesses.

Issouf who had Wit, and Means, made good use of his Friends Ad­vice, and built great Hopes on it, be­ing [Page 36] perswaded that Money over­comes all difficulties, and that Liberality moves the most obdu­rate Hearts. He resolv'd to confide his Love to this Jewish Woman, and to engage her in his Concerns.

The Enterprise was not very difficult, considerable Presents, and Promises of Reiterating them up­on a favourable Success, did en­gage the Jewish Woman to serve Issouf in his Amours.

He put into her hands a Pair of Pendants of Emeralds cut in the shape of Pairs, a pair of Diamond Bracelets, and the Buckles of a Girdle set with Rubies, in Ena­mel'd Gold. He Accompanyed this Present with a Billet, and a Seliman, put up in a Watch Case of Enamel'd Gold, set with Dia­monds. He Conjur'd his Messen­ger to use all her Industry to per­swade and convince me of the excess of his Love, and to repre­sent to me the Disorders which [Page 37] that Passion had made in his Heart, the deplorable Condition in which it had reduc'd him, that I had been almost three years in the Seraglio, and could not all that while learn any News of me, that he was ready to Dye if all that he had suffer'd for me was not ca­pable to molifie me, and to in­spire some kindness for him in my Breast.

The Jewish Woman, who was very Dextrous and Prudent, com­ing to the Seraglio as she us'd to do, took her time when the Sul­taness was not visible, and seeking of an opportunity of speaking to me conveniently, requested that I should give her leave to rest her self a while in my Apartment, which I could not in Civility re­fuse her, I being she which this Jewish Merchant best knew, by reason of my Place of Treasurer to the Sultaness, to which I had been advanc'd, in a short time, [Page 38] through the Sultanesses singular Bounty.

Women are naturally Curious, I inform'd my self of the quality of her Jewels. She heightned their Beauties and Perfections, pulling out of her Bosom a box in which those things were put up, she shew'd them me.

The fires and sparklings of those precious Stones, on which I most earnestly gaz'd, with an envi­ous Eye, invited me to put them on me for a while.

The Jewish Woman, who per­ceiv'd that I was coming to the Lure, and that this dress pleas'd me, did invite me with her praises to frequently Consult a small Looking-glass which I had found by chance, which made me ob­serve an extraordinary redness on my Face, caus'd by a Vexation, that Fortune had not favour'd me, with such a like Treasure.

[Page 39] Boulluster who easily perceiv'd what pass'd in my Heart, know­ing that every moment was pre­cious, thought it high time to Play her Part, and to discover to me Issoufs Passion in giving me his Letter and Present.

Charming Gulbeas, said she, I must confess to you how much I am surpris'd that the Sultan is not yet taken with your Beauty, and with so many Graces which I ob­serve in your Face; there is no­thing in you but what is capable to Produce Love, and if that Em­peror had once seen you in this Dress, the Sultaness would con­ceive some Jealousie thereon, and I easily believe what has been told me of the Passion of a Young Turk whose Name is Issouf.

Though I had not heard him mention'd since I had been Ad­mitted into the Seraglio, no more then of the Jew with whom I had [Page 40] liv'd, that Name made me change Colour, for that young Man's Passion was not unknown to me, seeing he had entertain'd me with it before. I did all I could to dis­guise my Surprisal, and to Con­ceal the Motions of my Soul, but that Poison that had thrown it self there and so long fomented, without perceiving it, discover'd it self against my will by a Sigh drawn from the bottom of my Heart, which I could not for my Life retain.

Boullaster made so good use of the disorder in which she perceiv'd me to be, and made me so lively a draft of Issoufs Passion, and Merit, that laying aside her indifferency in that business, she made an end of engaging me, in presenting me with the Box of Diamonds. I thought at first that it had been a Watch: My Curiosity invited me to open it, but in lieu of a Watch Movement I found in it a Billet. [Page 41] Honour made me immediately shut it up again, and return it to the Woman. I Counterfeited the Angry Body, yet would I gladly have been inform'd of the Con­tents of that Billet, not doubting but that it was Issouf's, Declaration of Love, who began to please me. The Jewish Woman who had too much of Experience not to discern my feigning, did Press me to take the Box, I did it protesting it was meerly in Complaisance, and to free me from her Impor­tunities.

I pulling out the Billet found under it a little Packet which in­clos'd a Selam, but because I can Read well, I instantly open'd the Billet, which was express'd in these Terms.

To See and to Love you Divine Gulbeas have been to me the same thing. The Gods who have made you so Fair, ought to have made you [Page 42] more sensible also, or not have possess'd we with so much Love, and so little of hopes. My Passion is as Ancient as the knowledge which I have had of your Merit, and Time which Consumes all things has serv'd but to increase it. There are pass'd divers years since I am no more my self, and that I live but for you. I pass both days and nights in that part of the Garden, where I did hear you Sing, and Play on your In­struments, and from whence I did sometimes spake to you. That place once the Confident of my Delights, is now the same of my Sorrow, and will soon be that of my Death, if you cause not my Destiny to alter, not being any longer capable of Life without seeing you. I am not Ig­norant of the difficulty of the Attempt; but most Incomparable Beauty, if you will afford me but a little pitty, who Languishes for you, and the happi­ness of casting my self down at your Feet, leave all the rest to Prudent [Page 43] Boullasters Cares, she will know how to manage my Bliss and your Re­putation.

The Reading of this Billet gave me the Curiosity of unfolding the Selam. It was Compos'd of a grain of Grape, a little Race of Ginger, a small piece of Cole, and Alum, lapp'd up in white and yellow Silk, which signified as follows.

I wish, My Eyes, that you were perfectly inform'd of that Love which I feel for you. It deprives me of my self, and if you take not pitty of the Condition I am in, I shall Dye while you will enjoy an happy Life: Honour me with an Answer, and put an end to my sufferings.

Though I feign'd not to be well pleas'd at this Declaration which I thought something too free, my Heart was very well satisfied with [Page 44] Issoufs Constancy. It spoke to me in his hehalf, and there needed not any great effects to perswade me of his Love, and to inspire in me some tenderness towards him.

The Jewish Woman, who studied my Countenance, per­ceiving the Effects of the Letter, and of the Selam, did presently offer me the Jewels with which I was already adorn'd. My reason, which was not yet wholly pre­possess'd, made me to refuse them, and to Represent to her the wrong which it might do to my Reputation, should the Sultaness discover it, and that I could not ac­cept of a present that would be the cause of my Ruine. At the same time I undid those Jewels which I return'd her with the Box, re­taining nothing but the Letter and the Selam.

Boullaster who a long Practice had render'd expert, was of O­pinion that sometimes a too great [Page 45] earnestness, does impede the suc­cess which is most desir'd, did en­deavour to convince me by a means to which I could make no resistance.

She told me that my Beauty be­ing Assisted with so powerful an Addition, I might please the Grand Segnior, and peradventure be made Sultaness. The Ambiti­on of Reigning, at least in an Emperors Heart, carried it above my Reason, and made me con­sent to receive the Present.

She would gladly have had me as ready to have receiv'd Issouf in my Appartment: My Heart did not reject the proposition, had not my reason render'd me inexo­rable. Finally after long in­stances and reiterated intreaties, I consented to see him in the Garden.

Boullaster could have wish'd (to acquit her self handsomly of her Commission) that I had given her [Page 46] an Answer; Honour and Reason oppos'd it, but Love did engage me to let him know by a Selam, that his Passion was not unpleasing to me, it was lapp'd up in an Hand­kercheif of Silk Embroider'd with Gold, wrought with my own Hand, after which the Woman retir'd, pretending before my Companions, who had surpris'd us in the Conversation, that she left those Jewels with me, that I might shew them to the Sultaness.

Issouf impatient to learn the success of his enterprise expected his Agents return, who made him an exact Relation of all that had pass'd, and gave him that Hand­kercheif which I had sent him.

The Joy which he resented at the receit of this assurance of the acceptance of his Passion, did Transport him in such manner, that without examining what it contain'd, he kiss'd it a thousand times, and water'd it with his [Page 47] Tears, with the most tender Ex­pressions, that Love could in­spire.

Boullaster who would not in­terrupt him during the height of his Transport, when he was come to himself again a little, made him to take Notice of the Selam. It was Isabella Silk, a Sprig of Jessemy, a little bit of Spunge, some Time, and some Mirtle.

I cannot express to you the ex­cess of the Joy which Issouf con­ceiv'd at it, it was so great that he was struck Speechless, and that Rapture had lasted longer, if Boullaster, as Curious, as he was Contented, had not press'd him to give her the Exposition of it. I accept your Vows, said the Selam, be perswaded of my Constancy, pro­vided you be so I pray Heaven to be­stow you on me, and that our Souls may be inseparably joyn'd together.

Is it possible most Amiable Gulbeas, said Issouf, that my Passion, [Page 48] is agreeable to, you is it not to de­ecive me, and to Laugh at my Grief, that thus you seek to engage me further, and kissing the Hand­kercheif, he said, dear Pledge of the fidelity of she who I adore, will you be it also of the sincerity of her Heart. Then Addressing himself to the Selam, and you Dumb Mouth, will you assure me the duration of her new Born Love?

He had said more; but all Mo­ments were Precious to prepare himself for this Enterview.

The difficulty of this enterprise did cast him in a new Sorrow, and plung'd him in a Melancholy more profound then the former. He was in a dispair of finding in the Seraglio, a Friend so faithful as to be trusted with his Amours, and his Impatiency did increase, still as he grew nearer the so de­sired time.

[Page 49]After he had much Tormented himself on the means of bringing about his design, he remembred that there was a Master Gardner nam'd, Ousta Mehemet, who was greatly oblig'd to his Father, and that that consideration, might en­gage him to do him Service, he resolv'd to find him out.

Ousta Mehemet, who had pre­serv'd for Issouf a natural Inclina­tion, receiv'd him with Demon­strations of a perfect Friendship, and great protestations of acknow­ledgments of the good Offices which he had receiv'd from the Bassa, his Father.

Though Issouf was satisfied of Me­hemets fidelity, and that he doubted not but that though he should not grant him the favour which he was about to ask of him, that he would however keep his secret, he however exacted from him an Oath, on the Head of the Pro­phet, never to reveal that which [Page 50] he would intrust him with, which he easily obtain'd from Mehemet.

Issouf discovered his Passion to his Friend in such sensible Terms, and so pressing, that though he had not had any mind to serve him, it was no longer in his power to refuse him. I Love, most faith­ful Mehemet, but what serves my Love, when that I cannot spake to the Object of my Vows. I Love a Fair One, Prisoner in this Place, the inward part of the Seraglio which is Guardian of this Treasure, is al­most Penetrable, or at least the Ac­cess is so difficult, that it cannot be attempted without a great hazard; Yet that is not the thing which de­tains Me, my Passion which is be­yond all limits would make me to un­dertake all things, if that she whom I Love would consent to it. I have only obtain'd to see her from a little Garden of Flowers which is just un­der the Sultanesse's Appartment. You, [Page 51] My Dear Mehemet, must facilitate the entry of it to me, on you depends the success of this Enterprise; I have Built on your Friendship; and if ever you have lov'd, you will judge of the Importancy of the Service, and the greatness of the Obligation, that I shall be indebted to you for it.

That Declaration had made too great an Impression on this Old Mans Mind, the remembrance of those Disorders which a like Passion had formerly Caus'd in his Breast, did make him conde­scend with ease to Issoufs request, without considering the danger unto which he expos'd himself, should the intreague be discover'd. He promised to introduce him un­der a Gardiners habit, and that he had no more to do, but to ob­serve my appointed time.

Issouf did presently dispatch Boullaster to the Seraglio, he gave her no Letter, his Joy was too [Page 52] great to permit him to write. He only gave her a small Selam, com­pos'd of a grain of Pomegranate a little piece of Ʋnctious Wood, lapp'd in white Silk, a Gray-pea, a little piece of Suggar Cane, and the kernel of an Hazel Nut, all which did spake thus.

The fire which your love has kindled in my Hearty, has reduc'd me to such a Condition, that if you take not pitty of me and that if like the Sun, you enlighten not my mind, I shall soon loose that with my life.

Though I was highly possess'd with Love, I had still some reason left me, I wa [...] kept in with fear, I dreaded least the intreague should be discover'd, and that the Sultaness should cause me to be severely Punish'd: Thus I would, yet would not, yet at last I was forc'd to yeild to the Syrenes Enchantments. I promiss'd her that the next day at nine I would render my self in alow room which [Page 53] answer'd on the Garden, and which was parted from it but by a Lattice Window, of which I should open a small wicket, which would be the sign of my coming, that that was the most favourable time, that the Sultaness did usually rest, and her Women also, after break­fasts; and that all the Eunuchs were on the outside of the Gate, to prevent all noise.

Issouf had like to have dyed, at the receit of this news, which did cause him some restlessness, through the apprehensions that his ill Fortune might make him miscarry in this attempt. He pass'd the whole night with terrible ap­prehensions, mixt of fear and hope.

He render'd himself at the Sera­glio, at the appointed hour. Mehemet caus'd him to change his rich habit for a Gardiners dress, made of a course red Serge, with a cap a Foot long, of the same [Page 54] Stuff. He put a Spade in his hand, and conducted him to the Garden ordering him to dig a border just under the Windows of that Ap­partment; at every stroke the new Gardner would lift up his Eyes, to observe whither the wicket did open; but unluckily, the Sultaness being fallen asleep a little latter then usually, the Gardner had leasure to dig almost all the border, before I could come to the Ren­devouz.

He was very impatient, as I was inform'd, he would some time hear your great flyes, which seek­ing for passage would strike against the Lattice, which made him fancy that I was looking and laughing at his slavery.

When I came near the Window, and that through the Lattice, I perceiv'd Issouf with the Spade in his hand, I no longer doubted of the strength of his love, and though it was a little uneasy to [Page 55] me to see a Person of his Quality digging of the ground, to enjoy one moment the satisfaction of seeing me, it gave me a secret joy, and without reflecting on what my absence might make him to suffer, I took a great delight in conside­ring of him without shewing my self. But he having work'd a con­siderable time, and that so harsh an exercise to so tender a Body, did oblige him, to rest often on his Spade, and to cast up his Eyes from time to time on the place where I was to appear, I open'd the wicket, and saw Issoufs Pain to redouble, the Spade fell out of his hands, he remain'd with­out motion, like a statue, but by good Fortune he was not per­ceiv'd, Mehemet who had forseen the consequences of this first sight, had set the Gardners at some distance, who were to have work'd in the same place.

There is no greater trouble, [Page 56] then to be in presence of that one loves, and not in power to de­clare ones grief. That which Issouf did suffer by being depriv'd of speaking to me because of the near­ness of the Sultaness's appartment, was as troublesom to me as to himself, and notwithstanding all the reservedness which I pretended to, I suffered no less then he did. By good Fortune the Dumb Lan­guage, which is very much us'd in this Court, and that we per­fectly understood, did so well supply the defects of our Voices, that we separated well satisfied with one another. The Eyes, the motions of the face, the signs of the Fingers, and the gestures of the Body, did all speak more then the most fluent tongue could have utter'd, which is frequently Dumb in such occasions, and says nothing at all for having too much to say. We did so please our selves in this conversation, that it [Page 57] had continu'd longer, if I had not heard some treading in the Sul­taness's appartment, which oblig'd me to make signs to Issouf to retire; and so I shut the wicket.

During all our intreagues, Boul­laster, who was now the confident of our mutual amours, made di­verse Journeys to the Seraglio. I took no less delight at the news of my lovely Issouf, then he did of his dear Gulbeas. He was very rich, and did promise me to use all his Endeavours, and to em­ploy all his Friends, to get me out of the Seraglio, and to marry me. This had not doubtless deceiv'd my hopes, if a precipitated Death caus'd by the Plague had not depriv'd me of my only Joy.

Sobbs and sighs, mix'd with Tears, interrupted Gulbea's re­lation, and the strength of her grief having disenabled her from finishing, she intreated one of her Companions, to whom she [Page 58] had discovered her secret, to go on with the recital of a Death, which had cost her so many Tears. Patma, so was that good Friend call'd, continu'd G [...]lbea's discourse. The Jewish Woman, did come twice or thrice a week to the Seraglio, though she sould but few things there; but she was sufficiently recompens'd by those lovers, whose presents did in a short time make her very rich.

Their Passions grew beyond all limits, Issouf, who was impatient at his Incomparable Mistriss's ab­sence, would attempt a second enterview, in which he might freely, with a loud Voice and not by Dumb signs express the excess of his love. He communicated his design to his confident, reitera­ting large promises if she had good success. She being won by the gains, did engage to omit nothing that might tend to his satisfaction.

[Page 59]She came to the Seraglio, gave Gulbeas a Selam put up in an Agath vessel. It is to be confess'd said Patmas, that if love sharpens Wit, it borders on folly also, Issouf would engage his Mistris with a rich present. This Vessel was Garnish'd with circles of Gold studded with Diamonds, and he endeavour'd to convince her of her passion, by a Selam, compos'd of his Hairs, of Rose colour Silk, of Aloes Wood, of Antimony, of Nutmeg, a Sprig of Broom, a grain of Grape, a small peice of Cloth, and of Cole, all which put to­gether did say.

Precious Crown of all my wishes, Nightingal whose Voice is only capa­ble to Charm the sorrow of my Soul, true remedy of the Evils which I en­dure, consider the Tears which pro­ceed from my Eyes, while that per­haps you are Laughing at my grief take pity on me, and behold the con­dition in which you have brought [Page 60] me. I am ready to dye, if you honour me not with your writing, and if you give me not a positive Answer.

This Selam, and the relation which Boullaster made to Gulbeas, of the miserable condition that Issouf was in, whom she represented to her, languishing, and dying, did so move her, being put on with passion and love, that she con­sented to a second enterview, the p [...]ce and manner, only, did trouble her, and she caus'd him some by a little Selam, of a Gold Wyer, of a grain of Grape, of a grain of Millet, of a bit of white thred, and of a grain of Wheat, all which said. Come my Eyes I am sensible of your griefs, my Heart is yours, be perswaded of my Constancy. Gulbeas would not consent to Issouf's disguise for his admittance into an appartment which was joyning that of the Sultaness; It was [Page 61] a slippery step, no less then honour and life were at stake. All those considerations were powerful enough to brake off that design, if love who was the strongest had not overpois'd them. Gulbeas let her self be won by Boullaster's per­swasion, and gave her leave to bring Issouf disguis'd like a Maiden.

Three days were employ'd in getting things ready, the rather because that too frequent visits might have been suspected. They were so many Ages to the Amorous Issouf, for whom neat and proper Cloths were getting ready that his dress answering to the Beauty of his Face, where no Hair had yet appear'd the Guards might be with more ease impos'd up­on.

The 4 th. day Boullaster, and her pretended Daughter whom we will call Gevaher, which in the Turkish Language signifies, Precious-Stone, came to the [Page 62] Seraglio. This She-Merchant who was well known, having told that who accompany'd her was her Daughter, de­ceiv'd the Black Eunuchs, who let them both enter.

Here Patma made a pause, and beginning again with a languish­ing accent, she said, Issouf, what dost thou doe? you come to see Gulbeas▪ you seek in her Eyes for a remedy to your Evils, you are going to find the end of them but after a very extra­ordinary manner, your presence shall cure her of the Plague which overcomes her, and by a strange counter-blow, you will take in, in approaching her, a Poyson, that shall kill you.

Of truth, continued she, The Jewish Woman did introduce the fair Gevaher, into the dying Gul­bea's Chamber. Judge of the trouble that Issouf found him­self in, and if the surprisal of such an unexpected accident were not capable of breaking all [Page 63] the measures of this disguise.

There little wanted but that he discover'd himself, but Gulbeas who still preserv'd a sound Judg­ment with the rigour of her disease, which was at the third day, did intreat her companions, to leave her one moment alone with this Jewish Woman, to settle some ac­counts which they had together.

When that Issouf found himself alone near Gulbeas, he gave full scope to his grief, and forgeting the place he was in, he tore of his vail, and cleav'd to the Beds Head of the sick Person, who he bathed with his Tears not being able to speak one word. Gulbeas on her side did receive such pressing strokes of love, with the anguish of her disease, that it causing a great revolution in her Body, a Chrisis was produc'd, which saved her life, and gave Issouf his death who could not be perswaded to quit the Boulster, where he took in [Page 64] the steam of a Malignant sweat, which peirc'd him to the very Heart, and caus'd him to fall in a fainting Fit.

Boullaster strangly confus'd at the swooning of her pretended Daughter, and much more at the consequences that the unraveling of this intreague might produce in case that the illness increasing, she had been oblig'd to be put into a bed, call'd me to assist her.

When I came in, the feigned Gevaher began to breath and to sigh, turning her Eyes towards Gulbeas, whose name she spoke with such a tender and amourous accent, that I wonder how I perceiv'd it not, I reflected not on it, and did attribute it to an anci­ent acquaintance, that which was a pure effect of love.

It pass'd not so with Boullaster, she was so surpris'd that all her senses fled from her, and her face grow­ing pale she fell in a swoon, so that [Page 65] I was left alone very busy, and concern'd. I brought the Daughter near to Gulbeas's Bed, and run to the Mother who was not long fainted, when both were recover'd of their swoon, I went to prepare something for them to take.

The Amorous Issouf made use of that moment to say some few things to his Mistriss, which he pronounc'd with a Languishing Voice. Death, which persues me, said he, is a less trouble to me, adorable Gulbeas, then the pain which I feel for what you endure. I should run to it with Pleasure, if I thought it would ease you, be per­swaded of it, and that I had rather dye, then abandon you, If I did not expose you, by my stay here to a danger greater then your Disease. I retire, but I retire to dye, not being able to resist so much sorrow. Gulbeas overcome with the strength of her disease, peirc'd to the quick at Issoufs illness, and weakned with [Page 66] the violence of her Crisis, could not answer those tender assurances but with Tears, which made her faint away. Here it was that Poor Issouf had need of his whole stock of reason, to resist so much Grief, and yet Act nothing that might betray the secret, he was forc'd to rest contented with sighs, which were attributed to his late fainting.

Gulbeas was long in that con­dition, and beginning to Breath again, Boullaster who fear'd some new accident, endeavour'd all she could to bring back Issouf, from his afflicted Mistriss.

He could not resolve on such a sad separation, which he foresaw would be eternal; He would fain have expir'd near what he lov'd, yet he was forc'd to obey his Mistriss's orders, who made signs to him, not being able to spake, and gave him her hand, which he kiss'd, protesting that he would not out live her.

[Page 67]All those accidents which had accompanyed so sad an enterview, was not sufficient to overcome our unfortunate Lovers. It hap­pen'd that passing by one of the doors of the Seraglio where there stands Baltadges, which are cer­tain varlets from without, that one of them distrusting the feigned Gevahers going, which was be­come careless through her grief and pain; fancy'd it a disguise, and stop'd Issouf by the arm; Boul­laster, whose Wit was always at hand, without speaking to the Baltadgj, for fear of bringing more to them, drawing near, dropt into his hand a ring which she pull'd of her own Finger, and pressing his hand she thereby oblig'd him to give liberty to this poor Lover to get out, who thought much less on the present accident then on Gulbea's troubles.

So soon as Issouf was return'd to his Palace, he went to his Bed, [Page 68] his Feaver increas'd, and finding himself press'd with that disease which kill'd him, he would em­ploy that little time he had to live, in taking leave of his dear Mistriss, and to give her his last farewell.

I dye for you, Incomparable Gul­beas, and Death is the more pleasing to me, because I hope that its Cause which was your Crisis, will be that of the prolongation of your days. I should dye without trouble, had I the certain news of it. The disease presses upon me, and I employ that little time which is left me, in giving you testimonies of a love which I shall carry to my grave: happy if that last moment can better convince you then divers Years of Sighs and Tears have done. Adieu, all lovely, live and remember that the same love which restores you to Life is the Cause of my Death.

No sooner had he ended his [Page 69] Letter, but he immediately sent it with the Ring on his Finger, in which his Mistriss's name and his were Ingraven on a very clear Ruby, to Boullaster, and was presently seis'd with a disturbance in his head, and a redoubling of his Feaver, which depriv'd him of his Senses and Speech, which never return'd again but with the last sigh, which he vented, in pro­nouncing the lovely name of his Mistriss.

Gulbeas, whose Crisis had put out of all Danger, the sweat having Dissipated the Tumors of the Plague, was more Distemper'd in the Mind then the Body, Issouf's silence, and Boullaster's stay from giving her an Account of all that had pass'd, since their parting, did strangly Perplex her, and giving her sad Warnings of what was coming, she felt most mortal disquiets, she would Weep all [Page 70] Day, and the Night was pass'd in Watchings, or in Terrible Visions, which foretold her nothing but those Dangers which she fear'd. The same night that Issouf expir'd, she thought that a Woman of a Pro­digious height, as Lean as a Skelle­ton, and of a frightful Deformity, her Hairs spread abroad approach­ing her with the Face of a Fury, a great Knif in her Hand, was open­ing of her side, and pulling out her Heart. All those Nocturnal Visions, Augmented her Sorrows. She had made Choice of me for her Confi­dent ever since Issouf's adventure, I did endeavour to Divert her, and turn her off of all those Me­lancholy Thoughts, nothing could Administer Comfort to her; But it was much worss, when Boullaster came to the Seraglio, some days after Issoufs Death, to acquit her self of the last Commission, which he had given her.

[Page 71]So soon as she did see her, she earnestly Inform'd her self of Issouf's welfare; but the Jewish Woman's silence, who could not dissemble, nor keep in her Tears, gave her easily to understand that truth which she fear'd to learn, Ah! Cry'd she, Issouf is no longer in being! and presently fell in my Arms in a Swoon.

When she was come to her self again, Issouf's Letter and Ring which Boullaster put into her Hands, not being able to speak one word, did Confirm that Sorrowful News, She Divers times kiss'd those dear Pledges of Issouf's eternal Con­stancy, Water'd them with her Tears, and did hang the Ring at her Neck, as a Mark that she Devouted her self to her Lover's Ghost; and having remain'd sometime without Speech, her Face from Pale as it was, became Red, and as if she were become Furious. [Page 72] Fatal Destiny, cry'd she, thou Ren­ders me my Life in killing what I Love, and thou sellest me very dear, that which I can no longer Love, seeing that he, with whom I design'd to share it, is no more. Why didst thou not kill me, or why didst thou Conduct him here, that I might be further oblig'd to him of my Life? after so many Services so ill re­warded, I will no longer Live after such an Accident; Alas! what will Life signifie to me, after that he, who Animated me is Dead. No Issouf, I design'd not to Live but for you, and I should be unworthy of your Love should I have any other thoughts. That Death which was to have taken me off, has not spared me, in taking of you. It has doubly slain me in depriving me of what I Love, and permitting me to Linger out a Miserable Life, which shall be but a Continual Death. You Live Issouf, and your most happy shade, enjoys at present the Pleasures of the Elisicum­fields, [Page 73] and I shall never cease Dying till I am reunited to you. Then Ad­dressing her self to the Ring. This Ring, continu'd she, shall be henceforth the Faithful witness of my Love, and seeing it could not Ʋnite our Bodies during our Lives, it shall be the indisso lubbiletye of our Wills, and the Mark with which I will appear before you, I will continually wear it in my Bosom, and it shall Accompany me in my Grave, seeing you could not have any other thought, when you sent it me at your Death, than that of uniting me more strictly to you in the other World.

She had continu'd, and gone on further with her Complaints, if the presence of our Compani­ons, had not interrupted their Course and oblig'd Boullaster to retreat. The Grief for his Death brought her into a Lingering Fea­ver, which has caus'd that Lan­guishing Condition you see her in, [Page 74] and of which there is no likeli­hood she will ever be Cured, the cause of her illness being too dear to her.

THE Fatal Beauty OF AGNES de CASTRO.

THough Love promises no­thing but Pleasures, the Effects of it are sometimes sad. A Tender hearted­ness is not sufficient to attain to a Perfect Happiness; and that Capricious Fortune which crosses all things, has but very little re­gard to Passionate Hearts, when She is in the Humour of producing strange Adventures.

Divers Examples of the pass'd Ages prove the Certainty of this Maxim; But the Reign of Don, Alfonse, the 4 th. of that Name King of Portugal does furnish us with one the most Extraordinary.

He was the Son of that Don Denis, whose Enterprises did so well succeed, that it was said of [Page 6] him, he did all that he would, and of Isabella of Aragon a Princess of an Eminent Virtue. After he had inherited a Flourishing and quiet Estate he Endeavoured to Main­tain in it both Plenty and Peace, by all means imaginable.

To that end he fix'd the Marri­age of his Son Don Pedre, who was but eight years old, with Blanch Daughter to Don Pedre, King of Castile, who the Young Prince did Marry at sixteeen. She brought along with her at Coimbria di­vers Infirmities, and but a few Agreements. Don Pedre who had a stock of Mildness and of Bounty, notwithstanding all those incon­veniencies, did live in good intel­ligence with her; But at last those inconveniences being degenerated into a Paralitic Distemper, and Blanch herself being desirous of a retreat the Pope did annul the Mar­riage. The Princess did confine in Solitude all her Languish­ments and the Prince for whom [Page 7] other Nuptials had been prepar'd, did marry Constantia Manuel, Daugh­ter to Don John Manuel, Prince of the Blood of Castile, and famous for that resistance, which he made to hi [...] King.

Constantia had been promised to the King of Castile; but he break­ing his Word, she was given to a young Prince, who was once to reign over a considerable number of fair Provinces. He was but in his twenty fifth year, and the han­somest Man of all Spain: with the most advantageous Qualities of the Body, he possest those of the Soul, and in all things, he did prove him­self worthy of that Crown, which was appointed for him.

The Princess Constantia was Beautiful, Spirituous, and gene­rous as much as any Woman in the World, her Merit ought to have Captivated Don Pedre, and cer­tainly he had for her an Esteem mix'd with respect; which might have pass'd for Love with the less [Page 8] Penetrating Persons. Mean time his more real Flames were reserv'd for another Beauty.

Constantia, brought forth a Son in the first Year of her Marriage; who was Named Don Louis, and who scarce had the time to discern the light; The loss of him did cause her to feel many Sorrows; but that cold indifferency which she observ'd in those Cares which her Husband did bestow on her, was much more sensible to her. It had not been difficult for her to give herself wholly to her Duty, and to singularly cleave to his tender Affections, but that power­ful Interest which bound her so strictly unto the Prince of Portugal, did open her Eyes on his actions, where she could not find any thing that was Natural, and that could satisfiy her Nicety.

At first she thought she had deceived herself; but time having confirm'd what she fear'd, she did secretly sigh for it, and had so much [Page 9] Consideration for the Prince as to give him but some obliging marks of her Sorrow, which she could not Conceal from Agnes de Castro, who lived with her, and the Princess Affection did distin­guish her from all the other Wo­men.

This Maiden so dear to the Princess, did well deserve that preference which she gave her. She was excessively Beautiful, wise, discreet, Spirituous, and more Affectionate for Constantia then she was for her own Interest, having left her Family, whose name was Illustrious, and that did hold a very Considerable rank, to give her­self wholly to the Princess, and to follow her into Portugal. It was in her bosom that she poured forth her first Sorrow, and the Char­ming Agnes omitted nothing that could Administer Comfort to her.

Constantia was not the only Per­son which Complained of Don [Page 10] Pedre, before the Divorce of Blanch, he had expres'd some Tenderness towards Elvira Gonca­les, Sister to Don Alvar Goncales, Favorite to the King of Portugal; and that Amusement of the Princes youngest Years, having made a re­al Impression on Elvira, whose Am­bition had been flatter'd by Blanche's Infirmities, she had seen Constantia possess her place, with a secret Rage, and to be Mistress of Sufficiency of Charms to take from her all to the last hopes.

Her Jealousy left her not long i­dle; she examin'd all the Prince's Actions, and without difficulty did unravel the Cause of that indiffe­rency, which he had for his Spouse: But that did not bring him back to her, and it was with great presum­ption, that she mistrusted some new Passion in him, which she promised to her self to thwart so soon a [...] she should find it out. She had a mind that was very fit for bold Enterpri­ses, and her Brothers Credit did [Page 11] raise such a pride in her, that all the Princes indifferency was not capable to humble.

He did languish, and none could guess at the Cause, he had no lon­ger any relish for public Sports, or­dinary conversations were uneasy, and solitude only had some power over him; this change surpris'd e­very body, Don Alfonso, who lov'd his Son, design'd to discourse him about it; but the Prince gave no other Answer, than, that it was an effect of his Temper.

All this while, time did pass, and the Princess was deliver'd of a se­cond Son, who liv'd and was nam'd Ferdinando. Don Pedre did force himself a little to ta [...] a share in the public Joy. It was believ'd that the humour was going to alter; but that glimpse of a Calm lasted not long, and he soon did relapse into his deep Melancholly.

The plotting Elvira was inces­santly agitated, in seeking after the Knowledg of his Secret. Chance [Page 12] labour'd for her in it. One day, that she was walking of her fury in the Palace's Gardens, she found the Prince of Portugal asleep in an obscure Grotto. Her Fury could not hold against that Object. She cast her Eyes on him, and per­ceiv'd that in spight of sleep some Tears did steal from his Eyes. That share which he still had in her heart, had no hard task to soften it; but she heard him sigh, and af­terwards to express these ill articu­lated Words: Yes, divine Agnes, I will dye before I discover it, and Constantia shall have no Cause to reproach you any thing. Elvira was seis'd with horror at that dis­course, which presently represen­ted to her Imagination Agnes de Castro with all her charms, and not doubting but that it was she who possest Don Pedre's heart, she felt more hatred against that Rival, than she had of Tenderness for him. The Grotto was no sit place to make Reflections in, and to form [Page 13] designs. Perhaps that her first trans­port had caus'd her to have awak­ned the Prince, had she not per­ceiv'd under his hand a Paper, which she seis'd, and that she might not be surpris'd reading of it, she went forth with as much diligence as emotion.

When she was got to her Apart­ment, she open'd the Paper trem­bling, and in it found these Ver­ses writ with Don Pedre's own hand, which it is likely he had new­ly compos'd.

[Page 14] Elvira knew well Don Pedre's Writing, and was not Ignorant that he made Verses, and ob­serving the sad part that Hymen Acted in those which was fallen into her hands, She Scrupled not to produce them to the Princess: That she might not be suspected, She appeared not in the least; but it being not sufficient to cause Constantia to observe how little her Husband Lov'd her, and that it was necessary also, to inform her, that he was become Agnes de Castros, Slave, Elvira caus'd these few Words, in an Unknown Hand, to be Writ under the Princes Verses, where there was a suffi­cient space.

Elvira did not much stick on the Nicety of Poetry in the last Verses, and provided, they had [Page 15] but the Effect which she wish'd for, she requir'd no more.

Her Impatiency would not per­mit her to stay till the next day to Publish them. She went to the Princess Apartment, who was gone forth to walk, and passing to her very Closet without being perceiv'd, she conveyed the Paper in a Book which the Princess did usually read, and Retired very well satisfy'd with her good Success.

So soon as Constantia was re­turn'd, she went into her Closet, where she found the Book open and in it those Verses that should cost her so dear. The Prince's Character was well known to her; but besides the cruel Confirmation of all that she had feared, she learn'd that it was Agnes of Castro, whose sole Friendship could consolate her Affli­ction, who was the cause of it. She did Read an hundred times over the same thing, seeking to belye her own Eyes and Reason; but perceiving too well that she was not deceiv'd, [Page 16] and consulting her Thoughts on this Adventure, she found her self much more possest with Sorrow then with Anger, when she consider'd that Don Pedre as A­morous as he was, had still pre­serv'd his Love in Secrecy. After having pittyed him without Con­demning, her natural tenderness did cause her to shed a deluge of Tears, and did inspire her with the design of concealing all her Grief.

She had certainly done it by the Power of an Extraordinary Vir­tue, had not the Prince enter'd with extream hast, he missing his Verses at his awaking, and fearing they should light into Indiscreet Hands, he came into the Palace disturb'd with this Loss, came to Constantia, observ'd her Humid Eyes, and stay'd his own on those unlucky Verses, which had newly escap'd from his Passion.

He presently grew Pale, and appear'd so Concern'd that the [Page 17] Generous Princes was more sensi­ble of his then of her own Mis­fortune: Madam, said he, with Amazement, whence have you that Paper? It cannot come but from some Enemy of your quiet and mine, reply'd Constantia, it is the Work of your own Hand, My Lord, and doubtless of the Motion of your Heart also; but fear no­thing, if my Tenderness would make it pass for a Crime, that same Tenderness which nothing can alter, would prevent it in me.

Constantia's Moderation did serve but to render the Prince more Confounded. How Gene­rous you are Madam continu'd he, and how Unfortunate am I! Some Tears did Accompany those Words, and the Princess who Passionately Lov'd him, was so sensibly mov'd with them that for along space they both remain'd Mute. At last Constantia broke silence, and shewing him, what [Page 18] Elvira had caus'd to be added; You have betray'd your self, My Lord, continu'd she, you have been over-heard, and your Secret is known. It was in that very Mo­ment that the Princes whole Strength did Abandon him, and that his present Condition became worthy of Compassion. He could not forgive himself that Unvolun­tary Crime which he had com­mitted against the Amiable Inno­cent Agnes; and though he was convinc'd of Constantia's Bounty, the Vexation which this Prudent, and Modest Maid might receive from his Conduct, did carry it above all other Considerations.

The Princess who was exami­ning of him with her Eyes, percei­ved so many marks of despair on his Face, that she fear'd the effects of it, and obligingly holding forth her hand to him; I promise you, my Lord, said she, that I will ne­ver complain of you, and that Ag­nes shall ever be dear to me. You [Page 19] shall not find me inclin'd to make you reproaches; and not being capable of possessing your heart, Il'e rest satisfyed in endeavouring to render my self worthy of it. Don Pedre more concern'd than before, bowed a Knee before Constantia, kiss'd with respect that hand which she had given him, and, perhaps did forget Agnes for a moment.

But Love did soon put a stop to these small Progresses of Hymen, That fatal Planet which did predo­minate over Don Pedre's Fate, had not yet spent all it's malignity; and one moment of Agnes his sight, soon added new Forces to his Passion.

That fair Maids consent had had no share in her victory, her eyes were exact and discerning, but they sought not in the Princess eyes, for that which they would have dis­covered to her.

She never did use to be long di­stant from Constantia, wherefore Don Pedre was no sooner gone out of the Closet but she came into it, [Page 20] and finding the Princess mov'd and melting, she doubted not but that she had some just Cause of Sorrow; she put her self in the same posture, that the Prince had been but a moment before, and expressing her disturbance with concerned Looks, Madam, said she, in the name of your Bounties, conceal not from me the Cause of that Trouble I find in you. Alas! Agnes, reply'd the beautiful Princess, what is it you would know, and what am I to tell you? The Prince is in Love. That hand which he once gave me, was no present of his heart, and all the advantage of this Allyance, will but make me the Sacrifice. The Prince in Love! reply'd Agnes, with an Amazement mixt with In­dignation: And what Fatal Beau­ty can dispute with yours the Em­pire of an heart so justly due to you? Ah! Madam, all my respect cannot hinder me from murmuring against him. Do not accuse him of any thing, reply'd Constantia, he [Page 21] strives all that he can, and I am more oblig'd to his endeavouring to remain faithful to me, than if I really did enjoy his affections. It is not sufficient to fight for to over­come, and the Prince does more in that disposition he finds himself in, than I ought to have hoped for. In fine, he is my Husband, an amia­ble Husband, to which there is no­thing wanting, but that which I have not been able to inspire in him, that is, a Passion which had rendred me too happy. Ah! Ma­dam, cryed out Agnes de Castro, transported with her affection for Constantia: He is a blind Prince, who knows not the precious ad­vantage which he possesses. It must needs be that he knows more, re­ply'd the Princess, modestly: But Madam, continued Agnes, is there any thing either in Portugal, or in all Spain, that can be compar'd to you? And not to reckon on the Qualities of your Person, can those of your mind be sufficiently prais'd? [Page 22] —My Dear Agnes, replyed the Princess sighing, she that takes my Husbands heart from me, has but too much wherewith to plead his Excuse, seeing it is of thee that Fortune has made use to give me that woeful blow: Yes, Agnes the Prince loves thee, and that Merit which I know to be in thee, puts a stop to my Complaints, not admit­ting of the least resentment.

The Beauteous Agnes little ex­pected what the Princess had said to her. Thunder and Lightning, had less surpris'd and abass'd her, she remain'd long Speechless; but at last fixing her looks on Constan­tia; What say you Madam, re­ply'd she, and what thoughts have you had of me? What should I be capable of betraying you? And in coming here fill'd with Zeal for the quiet of your Life I should bring with me but a direful Poi­son, that should disturb it? How should I detest that little of Beauty which is found in me, (though [Page 23] without any design in me of mak­ing of it known) and that unfor­tunate day in which I first beheld the Prince! But Madam it cannot be me certainly that the Heavens have chosen to travers you. They are not so much my Enemy to put me to so severe a Tryal, and if I was that Odious Person, there would be no Exiles nor Torments to which I would not condemn my self. 'Tis Elvira, Madam, whom the Prince has formerly Lov'd, be­fore your Marriage, and even be­fore Blanch's Divorce; some indis­creet reports have been made you concerning that intregue of his Younger days; but that which has happen'd in the time of Blanch, has no relation to you. It is most certain that Don Pedre Loves, you answered the Princess, and I have vanity enough to believe that of truth, there is none but you in all Spain that can dispute it with me, but his secret is discover'd, and he has not deny'd it. What, reply'd [Page 24] the Beauteous Agnes, with a greater surprise it is from himself, that you have receiv'd the Intelligence of his weakness? Then did Constantia shew her the Verses, and there ne­ver was any dispair like hers.

While they were in that sad con­versation, Impatient Elvira, who was desirous to learn the effects of her Practices came again to the Princess, where she had a free access, she was not hindred from going to her very Closet, and her Presence drew a redness on the cheeks of two restless and afflicted Persons which desired not her Company, she had the satisfaction of observ­ing Constantia to lay aside those Verses, which the Princess had not seen without her Malice, and of an imoderate Sorrow in her Eyes, and in Agnese's also. She remain'd there just so long as needed to in­form her that she had succeeded well, but the Princess who desired not such an obstinate Witness of the troubles she was in at that [Page 25] present, order'd to be left alone, Elvira went out, and Agnes de Castro retired at the same time also.

It was in her own Chamber, that examining more at large her Ad­venture, she found it as cruel as Death it self. She Lov'd Constan­tia with a true Affection, and till then, had not had for the Prince of Portugal but an esteem mixed with that admiration which could not be deny'd to his Excellent Qualities, and considering her­self with extremity of Grief, as the cause of the Sorrows of such a Princess to whose Bountys she was so Indebted, she Employd all the Night in Tears and Complaints, which sufficiently reveng'd Con­stantia of these Evils which she caus'd her to feel.

The Prince was no less disturb'd, his Wives generosity increased his remorses, without diminishing his love. He did fear, not without great likeliness, that they who had [Page 26] possest Constantia with those Verses, would also acquaint the King of his passion, from whom he could not expect so great an Indulgency, and he would freely part with his Life to free him­self from that extremity.

The afflicted Constantia did Languish in a deplorable condition, she could not see any thing in those Persons that caus'd her Misfortune, but what was apt to move her tender affections. At last Jealousy design'd, (but vainly) to combat that tendency which she had, to Love them. The Prince was not less dear unto her, and she could not be sensible either of hatred or indifferency towards her rival.

While that these three uneasy Persons did abandon themselves unto their Melancholy, Elvira who was resolved not to let her ven­geance remain imperfect was con­triving by what means she might accomplish it. Her Brother on [Page 27] whom she did depend, did shew her a great affection, and guessing that the Loves of Don Pedre and Agnes of Castro would not be approv'd of by the King, she discover'd it to Don Alvares, who was not Ignorant of the former that the Prince had had with his Sister. He found himself most powerfully concern'd in the news she had told him, through a secret passion which he had for Agnes, which he had concealed in his own Breast least it should in any sort thwart the smooth course of his good Fortune, and he was in ex­pectation of a continuation of Don Alfonses Favours, whereby to render his Heart, a more consider­able present.

He concealed not from his Sister a Mistery which he had found very difficult to keep secret, and it prov'd a duplication of vexation to her, to find Agnes the Sovereign of all those Hearts over which she had any pretentions.

[Page 28] Don Alvares was one of those Ambitious men that are so with­out Moderation, Proud without Generosity, of cruel inclination, and who to attain his ends, could not see any thing, that was either difficult or Illigitimate. He Na­turaly lov'd not the Prince who in all reason was to possess the first place in Don Alfonse's Heart, and who set limits unto Don Alvare's good Fortune. But he under­stood that he was his Rival, Jea­lousie increas'd his hatred, and he intreated Elvira to employ all her cares to cross an engagement which could not but be opposite to his designs. She promised him all aid and assistance, though she was not satisfied, as to her own concerns, and he rely'd on her promise and dexterity.

Don Alvares, who had sensibly felt the Prince of Portugal's concur­rence in his amours, had no other thoughts but of thwarting and op­posing his Merits. He had no [Page 29] handsom presence, neither was he of an agreable temper, and Don Pedre had those advantages, and possess'd divers others also, but being Husband to Constantia, and that he wholly depended on a Father who was absolute, and that Don Alvares was under no restraint, and Master of a considerable For­tune, he trusted his good Fortune on that score.

He knew well that Don Pedre's Love could not but inspire Don Al­fonse with a violent anger; and being over diligent in doing evil, his first Care was to inform him of it. After he had given suffici­ent Leasure to his anger to rouse unto that Pitch he would have it, he spoke for himself, and soon did render the King Protector of his Passion.

Though Don Alvares had no other Merits with the King of Portugal, than a continual blind Complacency, he had poured all hi [...] Favours upon him, and in that [Page 30] State in which the Kings Liberali­ty had placed him; few Women could well refuse his Allegiance, Don Alfonse did assure him the con­nuation of his Friendship and Fa­vour, and did assure him that he himself should loose his authority, or that he would make him Ma­ster of Agnes.

Don Alvares, perfectly learned in the Art of managing his Master did answer his last bounties with a profound submission, and very fit to continue them. He had never spoken to Agnes what he did feel for her, but he then thought it time to break forth, and immedi­ately sought after the means to perform it.

The galantry of Coimbria which lay in oblivion did then rouse it self up again. The King to plea­sure Don Alvares under a pretence of diverting of Constantia, did or­der some public sports, and it was his Pleasure that all things should appear very magnificently.

[Page 31]Ever since the adventure of the Verses Don Pedre had endea­vor'd all means to constrain him­self and of appearing less concern'd; but in the bottom he still equally suffer'd, and it was not without great uneasiness that he fitted him­self for the Justing. And seing that he could not appear so Pub­licly with Agnes's Colours, he took those of the Princess, without any Motto or Agreements.

Don Alvares set himself off with Agnes de Castro's Liveries, and that beautiful Maid, who found no com­fort in what the Princess had said, had this further addition of Sor­row.

Don Pedre did appear in the List extream graceful, and Don Alvares who look'd upon this day as his own, did appear all Glittering with Gold and Jewels mixed with blew, which was Agnes's Colour, and his Equipage was all over sprinkled with inflamed Hearts, and Love Knots, with aboundance [Page 32] of double As; his Motto was a Cupid breaking out of a Cloud with these four Verses under it.

Don Alvares's Pride was laid humble at Don Pedre's Feet, who bore him down with twenty more, and he alone carried the honour of the day. At Night there was a gallant appearance at Constantia's appartment, where Agnes had not been without an express and absolute order from the Princess. She did appear very negligently drest, though still charming with Vexation, she had seen her Name and Colours us'd by Don Alvares, in a public Solemnity, and if her Heart was capable of any tenderness it was not for such a Person as he, that her Nicety de­sign'd them. She look'd on him with a Contempt, which hinder'd him not from pressing much upon [Page 33] her, and she was forc'd to give Ear to what he had a mind to say.

She was not rude, but her Coldness would have repuls'd all other but Alvares: Madam, said he to her, so soon as he could not be heard but by her self, I had till this present concealed that Passion which you had Inspired me with; in fear of your displeasure; but it has forc'd my respect, and I can no longer conceal it from you. I have made no reflections on your Actions, reply'd Agnes, with all th [...] indifferency imaginable, and if you offend me, you wrong me the more in desiring my taking Notice of it. This Coldness is of evil Omen to me, reply'd Don Alvares, and if you have not this day taken notice of my love, it is to be fear'd, that you will never ap­prove of it. Alas! what time have you chosen to shew i [...] me, contin'd Agnes, does it so much Honour me, that you shew it with so mu [...] [Page 34] care, and do you believe me so greedy of Glory, as to Aspire at that which derives from you? You have ill maintain'd it in the Justs, and if it is that vanity which prompts you on, you will make no great Progress in a Soul which loves not shame. Though you were in Possession of all the Ad­vantages which the Prince has merited, yet you ought to reflect on what you are doing, and it is not a Person like me that can be mov'd by such respectless en­terprises.

Don Alfonse's Favourite was too Proud, to hear Agnes thus spake without Colour; but his design being to render her flexible, and not to anger her; he conceal'd his Resentment; and taking No­tice of the Observation which she had made on Don Pedre's Tryumph with an Addition of Jealousy. If, I have not overcome at the Just, [...]eply'd he, I am not less Amorous, [...] less capable of Success in other [...]sions.

[Page 35]They were interrupted; but from that day, Don Alvares, who had gone over the first difficulties, no longer observ'd any Measures, and Persecuted Agnes, to whom the Kings Protection Inspir'd not the least considerations for him.

Don Pedre was still Ignorant of the means by which those Verses which he had lost in the Garden had fallen into Constantia's hands. The Princess appearing very Indul­gent to him, he had no other trouble but for Agne's Interest. Don Alvare's Love, that was now so known did perplex him, and if he had follow'd his own Dictates, he had not left her expos'd to the Persecutions of that unworthy Rival. On the other hand he fear'd that the King should be in­form'd of his Passion; but he did not then reflect enough on Elvira, to fear her Resent­ments.

She Burnt with a desire to ruine Agnes, against whom all her Poi­son [Page 36] was stirr'd up, and she was not tyred with making daily new reports to her Brother, assuring him though she had no proofs for it, that Agnes did answer to the Prince's tenderness, that it was the true cause of Constantia's Grief, and that if that Princess should dye of it, Don Pedre might Marry Agnes, infine she did so irritate her Brothers Jealousie, that he run, to shew it wholly to Don Alfonse, who Trembled with Anger at it; My dear Alvares, said he, to him, Marry her, that Beauty that is so dangerous, and let your Possession secure both yours and my quiet. If I have protected you in other occasions, Judge what a business of such Importance to me can make me undertake. Act without any reserve. The Powers of the Kingdom are in your Power, and all that I possess shall be certainly at your disposal, provided you but render your self. Master of Agne's Destiny.

[Page 37] Don Alvares well pleas'd with his Master, took hold of all the Authority that he gave him. He really Lov'd Agnes, and was loath to come at first to any violence; but he promis'd himself to be beyond all Management if she still continu'd insensible.

Mean time Agnes de Castro highly importun'd with his Assi­duities, desperate at Constantia's Griefs, and peradventure molified by those which she cau [...]'d the Prince to suffer, did take a Resolu­tion worthy of her Virtue. As Amiable as was Don Pedre, she could not see in him but the Hus­band of a Princess that was most dear to her, and far from seeking to improve that Power which she had over his Heart, she thought of nothing but absenting her self from Coimbria. Don Alvare's Passi­on, which she would not favour did furnish her with a pretence, and press'd on with the fears of causing at last a Divorce, most [Page 38] Cruel betwixt the Prince and his Spouse, she found out Constantia in a perplexity that all her cares could not conceal.

The Princess easily observ'd it, and their common misfortune having not alter'd her Friendship. What's the matter with you Agnes, said she, with her wonted sweet­ness, and what new misfortune does your sorrow come to inform me of; That Attachment which I have for you, Madam, reply'd Agnes, does put me to a Cruel Tryal, and pouring forth a Flood of Tears, I had limited the happi­ness of my Life in the hopes of spending of it near your Person, yet I find that I must Transport somewhere else an Uunfortunate Face, that renders me but ill Offi­ces, and it is to obtain from you that Permission, that I come to Embrace your Knees, looking on you as on my Sovereign.

Constantia was so surpris'd and so mov'd at Agne's proposition, [Page 39] that she remain'd Speechless; for some Moments, some sincere Tears express'd her first grief, and after she had sufficiently shed them to give Agnes a sufficient Mark of her Tenderness, she fixed her Sor­rowful Eyes upon her, and ob­ligingly holding forth her hand to her, then you will go, my dear Agnes, continu'd she, and further expose me unto the sorrow of see­ing you no more. Alas, Madam reply'd that amyable Maid, Con­ceal from the Miserable Agnes a Bounty which increases her Sor­rows. It is not I that would de­part, it is my Duty and my Reason that will have it so, and those days that I shall pass absent from you, cannot promise me any thing so agreeable as to inspire me such a design if I found not my self ab­solutely compell'd to it. I cannot be Ignorant of what passes at Coimbria, and I should be an Ac­complice to those Unjustices which are there committed should I re­side [Page 40] there any longer — Ah! I know your Virtue, cryed out Constantia, and you may remain here in all security, if I stay you here, and whatever does happen I shall never accuse you of any thing. We must not promise our selves any thing of future, Madam, re­ply'd Agnes sorrowfully, and I shall still remain sufficiently Guil­ty, so long as my presence shall entertain such thoughts as cannot be accounted Innocent. More­over Madam, Don Alvare's impor­tunities are unsufferable, and find­ing in my self nothing but Aversion against him, that the King protects his Insolency, and that he is in a Condition of undertaking much, my flight is absolutely necessary; But Madam, though he possesses nothing but what is odious to me, I call Heaven to Witness, that if I could Cure the Prince by Marry­ing of him, I should not defer it one moment, and finding in my mind, the Consolation of having [Page 41] Sacrific'd my self for my Princess, I should bear it without any Mur­mur; But in fine though I should be Don Alvare's Wife, Don Pedre would still have the same Eyes, and I find nothing better then to go hide my self in some Corner of the World, where I shall certainly Live without Comfort; but where I should preserve my inno­cency. All that Justice which you can find in this design, answer'd the Princess, shall not oblige me to approve of it. Would your Absence restore me Don Pedre's Heart, and would he not fly with you? His Cares, are mine, my Life is link'd with his, reduce him not then to a dispair, if you, love me. I know you, I once again declare it to you, and what power soever you have over the Prince 's heart, I shall not per­mit that you should leave us.

Though Agnes believ'd she had a perfect Knowledg of Constantia, she did not expect such a fund of [Page 42] Virtue, she found her self the more Unfortunate by it, and the Prince more Guilty. Oh! Wisdom, Oh! Bounty! beyond Example cry'd she out; why do not the Cruel Fates afford you all that you deserve. You are the Arbiter of all my Actions, continu'd she, kissing one of Constantia's hands, I will not do but what you please; but I beseech you to think on what reason ought to prompt you to prescribe to me.

Don Pedre, who had not yet seen the Princess that day, came in just then, and finding them both disturb'd he inquired after the rea­son with some earnestness. My Lord reply'd Constantia, the too Wise and too scrupulous Agnes fears the Effects of her Beauty, and will no longer live at Coimbria and it is on that Account, which cannot be pleasing to me, that she is asking my Ad­vice. At this discourse the Prince grew pale, and with more distur­bance then either of them had. [Page 43] Agnes cannot err, said he, in fol­lowing your Counsels; Madam, and I leave you with free Liberty of given them to her. He pre­sently went out, and the Princess whose heart he did so absolutely possess, not being able to conceal her discontent. My dear Agnes, con­tinu'd she, though my satisfaction was not chain'd to the sight of you, I should still desire it on Don Pe­dre's account. It is, the only Ad­vantage that his Unfortunate Love can hope for, and should I not be with Justice reputed barbarous, if I should contribute towards his being depriv'd of it? But that ob­ject is but a Poison to him, reply'd Agnes, and what should I do my Dear Princess, if after so much re­straint, his Mouth should add to those Evils which I have already felt, that of hearing him spake of his flame? You should hear him without running him into dispair, added Constantia, and I should charge that new Obligation on my [Page 44] Account. You would have me to wait for events that I fear, Madam, answer'd Agnes, I shall obey you. But ye just Heavens! If they are Fatal, punish not for them an Inno­cent Heart. Thus ended that Conversation. Agnes retir'd into her Chamber; but it was with­out hopes of being more at ease.

That which Don Pedre had learn'd of her design, produc'd a strange Disturbance in his mind, he wish'd he did not Love her, and desired Death with great earnestness, but it was too late for him to wish against what the Fates had decreed, and whatever he en­deavour'd to resolve himself to bear as to the Absence of Agnes, his Love never had the Power to consent to it.

After he had long strove, he firmly resolv'd to do that which he would not have Agnes to do. His Courage did reproach to him that idle Life which he lead during his happiest years, [Page 45] and representing to the King that their Allies, and even the Prince Don John Manuel his Father-in-Law, had business in hand which required his presence upon the Frontiers, he easily obtain'd the Liberty of making that Voyage, unto which the Princess could make no opposition.

Agnes did see him depart with­out any sorrow: but that did not proceed from any Aversion. Then did Don Alvares convert his first importunity into an open Persecu­tion. He omitted nothing to touch Agne's Heart, and for some con­siderable time employ'd none but the. Arms of Love, but finding that his respect and submission were fruitless, he took another Course, and fram'd most strange Designs.

The King deferring all things to his Advices, he did easily inspire in him what he pleas'd; he com­plain'd of Agne's Ingratitude, and fail'd not to let him know that it was but through her too great [Page 46] sensibility for the Prince that she was so insensible to him, so that Don Alfonse apt to be irritated, reiterated all those Promises, which he had already made him.

The King of Portugal, had not yet discours'd Agnes in Favour of Don Alvares, and not doubting but that his Will would overcome all sorts of Obstacles, he sought after an opportunity of Entertaining her, and putting her at some distance from those that might over-hear them, I did think Don Alvares to be of a sufficient Merit, he said, to obtain some small share in your Esteem, and I did not think it necessary that I should require it of you for him, I know you are all charming, but he has nothing unworthy of you, and on the least Reflection you might make of the Choice that my Friendship has made of him, amongst all the rest of my Courtiers, you would doubtless readily do him more Justice. His Fortune is not to be [Page 47] disputed, since I am the Protector of it. He is of a Noble Birth, his Courage does him Honour, he adores you, and in my opinion so many reasons ought to over-come your Scorns.

Agnes's Heart was so little dis­pos'd to give it self to Don Alvares, that all the King of Portugal's Ex­agerations prevail [...]d nothing in his behalf. Though Don Alvares were without Merits, Sir, She reply'd, he possesses sufficiently of Advantages in those Bounties with which your Majesty does Honour him, to supply all other defects. It is not to find any de­fects in him that I answer not his wishes; But, Sir, through what Obligation would he have me to Love him, if the Heavens have not furnished me with a tender Soul? and why does he pretend that I should submit my self to him, when that nothing ought to be more dear to me then Liberty? You are neither so free nor so insen­sible [Page 48] as you speak, reply'd Don Al­fonse, blushing with Anger, and if your Heart was free from all sorts of Affections it might receive a more reasonable one then that which possesses it. But Imprudent Maid, that you are guided by an ill fate, added he with Fury, what can you pretend from Don Pedre? Hither to I have conceal'd the sor­row that his and your weakness have caus'd me; but it has not been the less violent for that; and since you oblige me to let it break forth, I ought to tell you that though my Son were not tyed to Constantia, his Marriage should never consern you. Renounce those vain Ideas, and take a course that may cure him and justifie your self.

The Courageous Agnes, was scarce Mistriss of her first Tran­sport, at a Discourse so full of Scorn, but calling her Virtue to second her Anger, she over­came her self by her own reason, [Page 49] considering the wrong which she sustained not as proceeding from a great King, but from a Man blinded and wholly possess'd by Don Alvares. She thought him not worthy of her resentment. Her fair Eyes were animated with a sparkling brightness, which wit­nessed the purity of her intentions, and fixing them on Don Alfonse; if the Prince Don Pedre has failings said she, with an Air that inclin'd something to disdain, he has never inform'd me of them, and I do not believe that I have contri­buted to them. To cure your dis­trust, and set my Honour safe, I shall live at a distance from him, and all that belongs to you. Yes, Sir, I shall contentedly leave the a­boad of Coimbria, and as to that Man so dear to you, added she, with a Noble boldness, of which the King of Portugal was very sen­sible, that Favorite, who is so wor­thy to possess the most tender af­fections of a great Prince, I do as­sure [Page 50] you that in what part of the World soever my Fortune leads me, I shall not carry the least thought of him with me. At these words, she made a profound Bow, and did so suddainly distance her­self from Don Alfonse, that he could not oppose himself against her re­tirement.

He believ'd more then ever that she did Favour Don Pedres passi­on, and pass'd into Constantias ap­partment, to inspire her with the same thought; but she was not capable of receiving such impres­sions, and following her Natural inclination, she generously defend­ed Agnes's Virtue, Don Alfonse, vexed to find her so well dispos'd on her rivals account, whom he would have her to hate, did mur­mur against her goodness, and went to joyn his anger to Don Alvare's rage who no longer wa [...] Master of himself after he had seen that his Master's Negotiation wa [...] of no effect. That Proud one [Page 51] braves me, Sir, said he, and con­temns the Honour that your boun­ties have made her, that I might renounce so fatal a passion; but I must love her against my will, and though that Flame should cost me my Life, I plainly feel that I can not put it out. What i'st that I can do for you? replyed Don Alfonse? Alas! Sir, reply'd, Don Alvares, that which I can never hope for from Proud Agne's con­sent. Well, added the King seeing that I must not Publicly authorise any Violence in the Center of my Kingdom, chuse from amongst all my Subjects such as thou shalt Judge most capable of serving thee; carry off that Beauty which charms thee, and if she yeilds not to thy Love, make use of all that force can do for thee, to force her to Marry thee.

Don Alvares ravish'd with such a proposition, which at once did Flatter his resentments and his [Page 52] love cast himself at Don Alfonse's Feet, did express his acknowleg­ments to him, set forward his Zeal, with new protestations, and thought no longer but to em­ploy his unjust authority against Agnes.

Don Pedre had been absent above three Months, when Don Alvares did undertake that which the King had advis'd him to do. Though the Princess moderation was well known to him, he fear'd his presence, and was loath to ex­pect the return of a rival with whom nothing had yet been dis­puted.

One night that the sorrowful Agnes, full of her daily Distur­bances, was in vain expecting sleep, some unknown men, whose steps were well order'd did take her out of the Palace, and after carried her out of Coimbria, with­out being hindred by any Obstacle, she could not well tell on whom to fix her Suspicions. Don Alvares [Page 53] seem'd too powerful to seek for his Satisfaction after such a manner, and she did not taxe with this at­tempt a Prince of whom she had too good an Opinion. All that she could say, did not hinder her ill adventure; she was carried away with dilligence, and before day, she was already considerably distant from the City.

At the first Glimps of day, she look'd on all those that surrounded her, not knowing so much as one; and perceiving well, that both out-cries, and tears, were in vain to such cruel minds, she rested contented in imploring the pro­tection of Heaven, and so aban­don'd her self to her Condu­ctors.

While she was overwhelm'd with Sorrow, and uncertain of her doom, she perceiv'd a Body of Horse to advance towards the Troops that conducted her; The ravishers did not avoid it, beleiving it to be Don Alvares; but com­ing [Page 54] near, they perceiv'd that it was the Prince of Portugal, who with­out any knowledg of this oppor­tunity of serving Agnes, was re­turning to Coimbria full of her Idea, after he had perform'd all that he was to do in his expedition.

Agnes, who did not expect him alter'd her mind, and thought that it was by his orders that she was forc'd away. Ah! my Lord, said she, in that thought, was it you that was thus to tare me from the Princess? and must so cruel a blow fall on me from a hand so dear to her? What will you do with a miserable wretch who seeks but for Death? and why will you Tarnish the Glory of your life, by a design so un­worthy of you?

That Language did no less sur­prise the Prince, then the sight of Agnes had done. He Apprehend­ed that she had been forc'd away, and instantly resenting the most peircing strokes of Anger, he gave [Page 55] her to understand with one single look, that he was not the base au­thor of her grief. I, tare you from Constantia who are all her joy, said he, what thoughts have you of Don Pedre? If you see me here, I am wholly Innocent of that vio­lence which is offer'd you, and which I shall prevent. Then did he turn himself towards the Ra­vishers; but his presence had al­ready dispers'd them. He order'd his Men to pursue them, and at least to seise some from whom he might learn the authority by which they did Act.

During this, Agnes was not less confus'd then before, she ad­mir'd the conduct of her Fortune, who brought the Prince at the very moment that he was so use­ful to her. Her equity did soon redress the wrong which her distrusts had caus'd her to do him. She felt some joy to have escaped a Misfortune which appear'd so certain to her, but it was no quiet [Page 56] joy, when she consider'd that her deliverer was her lover too, and such a lover as deserv'd her entire acknowledgments, but that also owed his Heart to the most ami­able Princess in the World.

Don Alvares, who fear'd being seen near to Coimbria, and who delay'd Prosecuting of Agnes till she was at a distance from it, had confided his design to some Friends, which he jug'd capable to execute it, and that had done it had not the Prince interpos'd.

During the time that his Men were persuing of the Ravishers of Agnes, he remain'd almost alone with her, and though he had re­solv'd always to avoid her presence, his Fortitude could not withstand so fair an occasion. Madam said he, is it possible that Men born amongst those that obey us, should be capa­ble of offending you? It was not to the care of Punishing such a Crime that I thought my self reserv'd; but since the Heavens have per­mitted [Page 57] that you should receive it, I must perish or cause you to for­get it. My Lord, reply'd Agnes, more mov'd at this discourse, then at Don Alvares's enterprise, those that want respect for the Princess and for you, may be dispens'd from having any for me. I no longer doubt but that Don Alvares is the Author of this attempt, and I judge what I may expect from him, by that which his importuni­ty has made me suffer. He is cer­tain of the Kings protection, and he designs to make him partner in his crimes; But my Lord the Hea­vens have conducted you most happily here for me, and to you do I owe the Liberty of again ser­ving the Princess. You would do for Constantia, that which is impos­sible not to perform for you, re­ply'd Don Pedre, your goodness binds you to her, and others For­tunes does for ever engage them to you.

[Page 58]The modest Agnes, who dread­ed this discourse, as much as the danger which had been prevented, made no other answer then to cast down her looks, and the Prince who understood her disorder, left her to spake to two of his Men, who brought him back one of those that Don Alvares had employ'd. He pardon'd him, and did not think that he should punish him, for having obey'd a man, who was made Almighty through his Fathers weakness.

After this, Agnes was brought back to Coimbria where her being forc'd away, began to be highly censur'd. The Princess, was in­finitely Afflicted, and at first be­liev'd it was a consequence of that design which that Fair Maid had express'd to her of her retirement; but some Women that waited on her, having declar'd that violence had been offer'd to her, Constantia went and made her complaints to the King, who gave no great atten­tion to the relation.

[Page 59]Madam, said he, let that Fa­tal Plague that deprives you of your Husbands Heart, be remov'd from you, and be not Afflicted at her absence, rather thank Hea­ven with me for it.

The generous Princess took Agne's part, with a great deal of courage, and she was still disputing with the King, when Don Pedre, came to Coimbria.

The first object which struck his Eyes was Don Alvares, who was crossing one of the Courts of the Palace, in the midst of a Cloud of Courtiers, which his Favour did fasten to him. The sight of him caus'd Don Pedre to be di­sturb'd, but the sight of Don Pedre and Agnes gave him much greater troubles, he easily guest that it was Don Pedre who had rescued her from his Men, and if his fury could have Acted all that it would have done, it had produc'd very sad Effects, at that very Mo­ment.

[Page 60] Don Alvares, said the Prince to him, is it thus that you employ that authority which the King my Father gives you? have you re­ceiv'd Employs, and Power from his bounty, but to employ them in perfidiousness and in abusing of Women? Were you ignorant of that interest which the Princess has in this Maid, and did you not know what a tender affectionate esteem she has for her? No, reply'd Don Alvares, with such insolency as did quite anger the Prince, I was not Ignorant of it, nor of that share your Heart has in it. Base wretch, reply'd the Prince, neither that favour which thou abuses, nor that insolence which makes thee p [...]ate, shall hinder me from Punishing of thee, were thou worthy of my blows; but there are other ways to humble thy Pride, and it is not such an arm as mine that must take on it the vile employ of Chastising so mean a thing as thou art.

[Page 61] Don Pedre went forwards at these words, and left Don Alvares in such a rage as cannot be express'd mad to see an enterprise fail, which he believ'd so sure, and at the Princess scorn of him, and pro­miss'd to himself to Sacrifice all to his revenge.

Though Don Alfonse lov'd his Son, he was too much preposses'd with his passion, to Pardon him what he had newly done, and he did condemn an action of great Justice, as if it had been an heinous Crime.

Elvira who the sweetness of hope had flatter'd for some mo­ments, beheld Agne's return with a most sensible Sorrow, which left her no other thoughts then of stir­ring up her Brother to revenge.

In fine the Prince did see Don Alfonse, but instead of being re­ceiv'd by him with that joy which he owed to the good success of his expedition, he shewed him nothing but a close Anger. After he had [Page 62] render'd, him his first respects, and and exact account of his proceed­ings he spoke to him of that vio­lence which had been offer'd Agnes de Castro, and complain'd of it in the Princess 's Name as well as his own. You ought to be si­lent in that respect, reply'd the King, and that motive which causes you to spake, is so shameful that I blush and sigh for you. What concerns it you whether that maid, whose presence troubles me, be remov'd from hence or not? so long as I would have it so. But Sir, reply'd Don Pedre, was open force, craft and the night Season, to be employ'd, where the least of your orders was suf­ficient? Agnes had obey'd you, and if she remains here still, per­adventure it is against her will. However, Sir, Constantia is offended at it, and without the fear of displeasing you, which, retains me, that action had not remain'd unpunish'd. How happy are you, [Page 63] reply'd Don Alfonse, with a scorn­ful smile, to make use of Constan­tia's name in this, to maintain the interests of your Heart. Do you think I know them not, and that that unfortunate Princess, looks on the wrong you do her with indiffe­rency? never more mention Agnes to me continu'd he, in a severe Tone, be satisfy'd that I Pardon you for what is pass'd, and think well on the kindness which I have for Don Alvares, when ere you design any thing against him. No, Sir, answered the anger'd Prince, I shall not spake any more of Agnes; but neither Constantia, nor I will any longer suffer her to be any more expos'd unto the insolency of your Favorite.

The King of Portugal had like to have broke forth at this Dis­course; but some Reliques of Prudence prevented it. Retire, said he to Don Pedre, and go make Reflections on what I can do, and what you owe me.

[Page 64]During this Conversation, Agnes was receiving from the Princess, and from all the Ladies of the Court, great Expressions of Joy and Friendship, Constantia saw again her Husband, with a great deal of satisfaction and far from be­ing sorry at what he had lately done for Agnes, she privately return'd him thanks for it, and still was the same towards him, nothwith­standing all the Jealousy which was endeavour'd to be inspired in her.

Don Alvares who found in his Sister, a Maliciousness worthy of his trust, did not conceal his fury from her. After she had made vain attempts to moderate it, in blotting Agnes out of his Heart, seeing that his Disease was incura­ble, she made him understand, that so long as Constantia should not be Jealous, there was no hopes. That if Agnes should once be suspected by her, she would not fail of A­bandoning her, and that then it [Page 65] would be easie to get Satisfaction, the Prince being now so Proud of Constantia's indulgency. In giving this Advice to her Brother, she promis'd to serve him effectually, and having no need of any body but her self, to perform ill things, she recommended Don Alvares to manage well the King.

Four Years were pass'd in that Melancholy station, and the Princess besides her first dead Child, and Ferdinand who was still Living, had brought two Daughters into the World.

Some Days after Don Pedre's return, Elvira, who was most Dex­trous in the Art of well Govern­ing any Wicked Design, did gain one of the Servants which be­long'd to Constantia's Chamber; she first spoke her fair, than over­whelm'd her with Presents and Gifts, and finding in her as ill a Disposition as in her self, she readily resolv'd to employ her.

After she was sure of her, she [Page 66] compos'd a Letter, which was after Writ over again in an un­known Hand, which she deposited in that Maids Hands, that she might deliver it to Constantia with the first opportunity, telling her that Agnes had dropt it; This was the Substance of it.

I employ not my own Hand to Write to you, for Reasons that I shall acquaint you with. How happy am I to have overcome all your Scruples! And what Happi­ness shall I find in the Progress of our Intreague! The whole Course of my Life, shall continually re­present to you the sincerity of my Affections; pray think on the se­cret Conversation that I require of you. I fancy still, that all Persons that approach you, de­prive me of something of my due. I dare not spake to you in public; Therefore come this Night where you know, I conjure you to it by all that I have suffered; Men­tion no more Constantia to me; she [Page 67] must be satisfy'd with my Esteem, since that my Heart could be none but Yours.

The false Portuguise Servant, o­bey'd Elvira exactly, the very next day perceiving Agnes coming from the Princess she brought the Letter to Constantia, who receiv'd it, and found in it, that which she was far from thinking on. Never did tenderness produce so sorrowful an Effect as then. Alas! they are both Guilty, said she sighing, and notwithstanding that Tendency which I find in my Heart to justifie them, my reason must needs Con­demn them. Unfortunate Princess, Sorrowful Subject of Fortunes Ca­pricios, why canst thou not Dye, seeing thou art not of a Humor to Revenge thy self! Don Pedre, ought you to give me your Hand, when you knew you could not give me your Heart? And thou fair and ungreateful Agnes, wer't thou born to produce the Evil of my Days, and to be the cause of my [Page 68] Death? After she had given some Moments unto the violence of her Sorrow, she call'd to her that Person who had brought her the Letter, charg'd her not to spake of it to any body, and then order'd that no body whatso­ever should be Admitted into her Chamber.

Then did she with more Liber­ty think on him whom she could not inspire with Love, and on her that betray'd her. The trouble of her Soul did not hinder her from seeking some means to excuse them. And desirous to do all that she could for Don Pedre, she took a firm Resolution of not com­plaining of him.

Elvira was not long, without being Inform'd of what pass'd, and of the Princess 's Sorrow, whence she hoped for all that she could wish.

Agnes far from imagining any such Storm, return'd to Constantia, and learning her indisposition, she [Page 69] pass'd the rest of the day at her Chamber door, to learn some News of her; but she was not permitted to enter. That No­velty did surprise and disturb'd her. The Prince had the same fate, and was startled at an order that was not to concern him.

Finally the next day Constantia appear'd; but with so much De­jection, that it was difficult to be­lieve that she had suffer'd much. Agnes was the most pressing to ap­proach her. The Princess could not contain her Tears. They both kept silence along time, Constantia did attribute that of Agnes, to some remorse, and that Unfortunate Maid not being able to contain any longer; is it possi­ble, Madam, said she, that two days can have depriv'd me of all that Bounty which you had for me? What have I done? And for what Crime are you thus to punish me? The Princess look'd lan­guishingly [Page 70] upon her, and did not answer her, but with a sigh, and Agnes offended at such a re­servedness, went out after an hasty manner, which contributed much to make her be thought Guilty.

After this the Prince came, who found Constantia more di­sturb'd then usually, and he most obligingly did Conjure her, not to neglect her Indisposition. My greatest good, is not the Preserva­tion of my Life, My Lord, an­swer'd she, I should take more care of it, did I love you less; But — she could not go on, and the Prince being put into a Consternation through her distur­bance, did most sorrowfully sigh'd without answering, which caus'd her an increase of Sorrow. To this some grains of anger being added, and all things tending to perswade the Princess that she was Sacrificed amongst them, she did not enter on any discourse that might pro­duce [Page 71] a right understanding, so left her Husband retire without speaking to him.

Nothing is more capable of di­sturbing our Reason, and of alter­ing our Health, then the secret Motions of Jealousy and Solitude. Constantia who was accustom'd, to spake freely to Agnes, and who beleiv'd she was deceiv'd by her, did Abandon her self to such Per­plexity as quite did overcome her. She fell violently Sick. The whole Court was concern'd at this Mis­fortune; and Don Pedre was real­ly Afflicted at it: But Agnes ap­pear'd more Concern'd then all the Rest.

Constantia's Coldness towards her, her continual sighs, and her obstinate Distemper, caus'd that after she had sought after the oc­casion of it, in all that she could recal into her Memory, she began to fear her self, and to reproach her self for all that the Princess did suffer.

[Page 72]Mean time the Distemper did so increase that Constantia's Life was extreamly fear'd, and that she her self began to find that it was time to think no longer of it; that though caus'd her no distur­bance, She look'd on Death as a great good, and perceiv'd the despair those Persons approach'd her were in without the least Con­cern.

Don Alfonse who lov'd her and knew her Virtue, was mov'd at the Extremity she was in, and Don Alvare's who had not lost the least occasion, of making him conceive that it was Jealousy which caus'd Constantia's Death, did but too much Exasperate him against such Criminals as were most worthy of Compassion.

The King of Portugal was not of a Temper long to Conceal his Anger. You give Examples, said he to the Prince, that will render your Memory very Illustrious, and Constantia's Death, of which none [Page 73] but you can be accus'd, is the Un­fortunate Effects of a Guilty Passion. Dread Heaven after this, and look on your self as a Monster that de­serves not to Live. If my Blood did not still Plead in your behalf, what might you not fear from my just Resentments? But what may not the Imprudent Agnes, to whom nothing Binds me, expect, if Constantia Perishes? She that in my Court Foments your foolish Passion with vain hopes, and causes us to loose so Amiable a Princess, that you were not worthy to possess.

Don Pedre knew, that Con­stantia was not Ignorant of his concerns for Agnes; but he also knew with what Moderation she had always express'd her self on that point. The Kings re­proach was very sensible; but his fault not being voluntary, and that an Imperious Accident did force him to Love in despight of [Page 74] all his resistance, he appear'd more Afflicted, then Confounded. Without well examining of me, you have accus'd me, Sir, answer'd he, and if my intentions were well known to you, you would not, may be, find me so guilty, I should take the Princess whom you say I Sacrifice for Judge of my Actions, were she in a Condition to be Consulted. If I am Guilty of any Weakness, her Equity has never reproach'd me of it, and my Mouth has never informed Agnes of it. But Sir, though I had Committed some Fault wherefore would you Punish an Innocent Maid for it? Who would perhaps Condemn them as much as you do? Ah! Wretch reply'd the King, she has but too much favour'd you, and thy flames had not been so con­stant had they not been well re­warded. Sir, reply'd the Prince, peirc'd with Sorrow for the wrong which was offer'd to Agnes, you [Page 75] offend a Virtue most pure, and those expressions which proceed from your Anger, do not become you. Agnes has afforded me no Favours, I did never ask her any, and I protest that I have not had so much as a thought against what I owe to Constantia.

While they were in this Dis­course one of the Princesses Wo­men came all in Tears to Adver­tise Don Pedre, that she was at the last Gaspe. Go look on your Work, said the King, and expect no longer, from a Father, who has but too much spar'd you, but that Severity which you de­serve.

The Prince did run to Constan­tia, who he found Dying, and Agnes in a Swound in the Arms of some Women. That which had caus'd that redoubling of illness, was that Agnes, who could no longer bear the Princes indiffe­rency, had Conjur'd her to tell [Page 76] her what her Crime was, and either to deprive her of life or re­store her Friendship to her.

Constantia who felt that she must suddainly Dye, would not retain a secred Anger against Agnes, and after some words that prepar'd her to a sorrowful clearing of the business she shew'd her that Perni­cious Note, which Elvira had Compos'd. Ah! Madam, cry'd out the Beautiful Agnes, after she had Read it, Ah! Madam, how many sorrowful disquiets had you spared me, if your Heart had ex­press'd it self with its accustomed Bounty. It is not hard to see that this Letter is Artificial, and that I have most Merciless Enemies. Can you believe the Prince so Impru­dent as to employ another Hand, then his own in such an occasion as this? And do you think me so simple as to keep that testimony of my shame with so little Cautious­ness? you are not betray'd, nei­ther [Page 77] by your Husband, nor by me I call Heaven to Witness, and those Attempts which I made to get out of Coimbria. Alas! My Dear Princess, how little have you known she that you have so Honour'd. Believe not that if I have justify'd my self, I shall ever suffer the Worlds Conversation. No, no, there is no retreat distant enough for me to flye to, and I shall so well conceal my face, that it shall never give offence.

The Princess mov'd at Agnes discourse and Tears, did press her hand, which she held, and fixing her looks on her, capable to move compassion in the most insensible Souls; If I have done you any wrong, my dear Agnes, answer'd she, Death which I expect every moment will avenge you of it. I ought also to protest to you, that I have not ceased loving you, and that I believe all that you say, in giving you again my most tender affection.

[Page 78]It was then that that sorrow, which acted on them both did reduce them to that extremity, which caus'd the Prince to be call'd in. He was incapable of doing any thing at the fight of them, and not­withstanding those tender motions that inclin'd him towards Agnes, he run directly to Constantia.

The Princess, unto whom a cold clammy sweat did denounce her last moment, felt that she had no time to loose and causing all Persons to withdraw that she sus­pected, my Lord, said she to Don Pedre. Though I quit my life without repining, I leave not you without regret and trouble. But dear Prince I must overcome even dying, and I will wholly forget my self, to turn my thoughts only on you. I reproach you not, well knowing that it is inclination alone that disposes of Hearts, and not reason. Agnes is sufficiently Beau­tiful, to inspire most ardent pas­sions, [Page 79] and sufficiently virtuous to deserve the best Fortune in the World. I also ask her Pardon for some small wrong which I have done her, and recommend her to you, as a Person most dear to me. Promise me, before I expire, to give her my Place in your domini­ons. It cannot be better fill'd. You cannot make choice of a more perfect Princess for your People, nor a better Mother for your Children. And you my dear and faithful Agnes, continu'd she, lend not an ear to a too scru­lous virtue, which might oppose it self to the Prince of Portugals happiness. Refuse him not, an Heart that he is worthy of, and give him that Friendship which you had for me, with that which you owe to his Merit. Take care of young Ferdinando, and of the two little Princesses that will re­trieve me in you, spake of me sometimes to them. Farewell [Page 80] live both happy, and receive my last embraces.

The afflicted Agnes, who had recover'd a little of strength, lost once more all her senses. Her faintness was follow'd with such violent Convulsions that her life was in very great danger. But Don Pedre kept close to Constantia, what, Madam, would you de­part; and with a belief that it were an advantage to me. Ah! Constantia if my Heart has in any wise wrong'd you, your own vir­tue punishes it, against your will for it. Think you me so barba­rous —as he was going to con­tinue he perceiv'd that Death was closing for ever the generous Princess 's Eyes, and it little wanted that he did not follow her.

But what an abyss of Sorrow was this to Agnes? so soon as she learn'd, during a respite, that her reason receiv'd that Constantia was newly expir'd, she would have [Page 81] destroy'd her self, and gave a full scope to her dispair.

At the Noise of this Death both the City and Fields were in an uproar, Elvira who then saw Don Pedre free to dispose of him­self, repented for having contri­buted to the Death of the Princess. Don Pedre who accus'd himself of it, did condole his Misfortune; And Agnes who thought herself the true cause of it, did promise to her grief that she would never forgive herself for it.

There was reason to watch her for diverse days, in which she dry­ed not her Tears The Prince im­ploy'd them in a deep Mourning; But when the first Notions of grief were over, those of his love made him sensible that he was still the same.

Don Alvares, who fear'd now the Prince's disengagement, made new attempts to gain Agnes de Castro, who was become insensible of [Page 82] all things but of her own discon­tent. Elvira desirous to reap advantage from her own dexterity, imploy'd all the Art, and Craft in her brains, to rekindle those fires wherewith the Prince had formerly courted her; but his inconstancy was already limited, and Agnes alone was to reign over his Heart.

She had taken a firm resolution since the Death of Constantia to give her self wholly up to retired­ness for the rest of her Life. Maugre all the Cautiousness which she us'd to conceal her design, the Prince was inform'd of it, endea­vour'd all he could to dispose his constancy to submit to it. He be­leiv'd himself stronger then he was in that point; but after he had well Consulted himself, he knew but too well, how much Agnes's presence was necessary to his wel­fare. Madam, said he to her one day, his Heart ready to break, [Page 83] and his Eyes full of Tears, which of the Actions of my Life, may have caus'd you to resolve on my Death! Though I have never told you how much I Love you, I am Perswaded that you are not Igno­rant of it. I have been forc'd to silence during many years, for yours, Constantia's, and my own sake; But it is no longer in my power so to constrain my self, and I ought to express my self at least once with you. Receive there­fore the assurance of a passion, full of respect and of heat with the offer of my Fortune, which I should not wish better, but to share it with you.

Agnes answer'd not at first to these words but with abundance of Tears; at last having dryed them up, and looking on Don Pedre with an Air, which gave him to understand that she was not well agreed with her wishes; If I were capable of that Weak­ness [Page 84] which you would inspire me with, My Lord, reply'd she, you were oblig'd to Punish me for it. What, Constantia is scarce in her Tomb, and you would have me to offend her thus? No my Dear Princess, added she, with more vehemency, No, she who you have so much weighed down with favours, shall not deserve the curse of Heavens and the scorn of Men by so perfidious an action. Do not therefore, my Lord, [...]bstinate your self in a design which I shall never approve of. You owe Constantia ever after her Death, such a fidelity as may justi­fie you; and I, to repair those Afflicti­ons which I have caus'd her, I ought to avoid all Conversation with you. Go Madam, reply'd the Prince, changing Colour, go and expect the News of my Death, in those places where your Cruelty shall Conduct you. They shall follow you close, and that War, [Page 85] that now employs our Neigh­bours will soon procure it me.

Those words made the Beau­teous Agnes of Castro to feel that her innocence was not altogether such as she had taken it to be, and that her Heart did concern it self for the Prince. You owe the Preservation of your Life unto the Prince and Princess, that Constantia has left you, she tenderly reply'd. Would you abandon their Youth to Don Alvares? Live, my Lord, live, and Permit the most unhappy Agnes to fall a single Sacrifice? Ah! thou Cruel Maid, reply'd the Prince, why do you order me to Live, if I cannot live without you? Is it an effect of your ha­tred? No, My Lord, reply'd Agnes, with some concern, I hate you not; and would to Heaven that a little of indifferency would come and assist my Weakness, cause me not to say more. You perceive my Blushes, expound them as you [Page 86] please; but still consider, that the less Aversion I find in me towards you, the more guilty I render my self, and that I ought not to see or spake to you. In fine, My Lord, if you oppose my retirement, I declare that Don Alvares, as odious to me as he is, shall serve me as a fence against you, and that I shall rather resolve to marry a Man which I abhore, than to favor a pas­sion which has caus'd Constantia's Life. Well, Agnes, reply'd the Prince with looks full of sorrow, follow those Motions that your Barbarous Virtue inspires you with. Take those cautious Mea­sures which you judg most ne­cessary, against an Unfortunate Love, and enjoy the Glory of having refus'd all to my desires.

He retired at these words, and all troubled, as was Agnes, she would not retain him; Her Cou­rage overcame her Grief and she thought more then ever on her depart.

[Page 87]It had been difficult for her to leave Coimbria, without the Kings consent, and not to defer that which appear'd so necessary to her, she was at Don Alfonses Apartment. Maugre Don Alvares interests, he shew'd her a severe brow, and yet not being able to give his consent to her request, you shall not stir from hence, said he, and if you are wise, you will here share and enjoy any Friendship with Don Alvares. I have design'd another way, Sir, answer'd Agnes, and the World has no share in it. You might except Don Pedre, reply'd the King of Portugal, his condition may satisfy an ambitious Person; but you would not succeed Constan­tia, who so tenderly lov'd you; and Spain hath more Princesses wherewith to fill, a part of that Throne, which I am to leave to my Son, Sir, reply'd Agnes, touch'd to the quick with that discourse. If I had any dispositions for Love, [Page 88] and designs of mariage, the Prince should be perhaps the only Person, on whom I could fix them, and you, Sir, know that if my ancestors wore no crowns yet they were not unworthy of them. How­ever I will be gone, and I believe not my self a Slave in a place in which I came free.

This bold Answer, which dis­cover'd truly Agne's Character, did startle Don Alfonse, and at the same time did vex him also. You shall go, when we shall think it con­venient, reply'd he, and without being a Slave at Coimbria you shall however expect our orders there.

Agnes well saw that there was no shrinking from thence and she was so troubled at it, that she kept her Chamber for many days, with­out daring to inquire after the Prince; and that solitude sav'd her the labour of seeing Don Al­vares.

During this Don Pedre fell sick, [Page 89] with so much violence and danger, that the fear of his Death was general. Agnes could not doubt but that it was an effect of his troubles she at first believ'd her self sufficiently strong to see him dye, rather then prove favourable; but some small reflections did soon convince her of the contrary. She found not in the bottom of her Heart that cruel constancy, which she thought to be so firmly esta­blish'd there. She felt some trouble and disorder, shed Tears, made wishes, and finally discovered all her Weakness.

None could behold the Heir to the Crown, and a Prince that so well deserv'd it in that extremity, without a general affliction. The People who lov'd him, did pass whole days at the Palace Gates, to learn news of his health, and the Courtiers were sorrowful.

Don Alvares alone could con­ceal a Malicious Joy before the [Page 90] King, under sorrowful appearances. Elvira full of tenderness, and per­haps of remorse suffer'd on her part also. The King who though he condemn'd his Sons love, did however love him, could not re­solve to loose him, and Agnes de Castro, who knew the excess of his grief expected the end with strange agitations.

Finally after more then a Month of fears, some little hopes did ap­pear. The Prince himself, with Don Alvares, were the only two, that had no joy at it, but Agnes did feel enough for all the rest.

Don Pedre perceiving that he must resolve to live, against his own will, thought no longer then how to pass sorrowful days, so soon as he was able to go, he sought after solitariness, and even gain'd so much over his weakness, as to go in all Places where Agnes did not appear but her Idea follow'd [Page 91] him still every where, and his memory very faithful in repre­senting her to him with so many Charms, did still render her dan­gerous.

One day, that he had been conducted in the Garden, he sought after a Labyrinth which was at the farthest end, there to conceal his Melancholy during some hours, he found the sorrowful Agnes, who had been brought thither by thoughts little differing from his, and her sight which he expected not, caus'd him to stagger, she perceiv'd in his Paleness, and weakness, some relicks of his disease. His Eyes full of Lan­guishments, disturb'd her; and notwithstanding the desire she had to fly, an unknown Power retain'd her, and it was impossible for her to retreat.

After some moments of silence which was interrupted with many sighs, Don Pedre did rise from a [Page 92] place where his weakness had caus'd him to rest, he shew'd to Agnes coming towards her, sor­rowful marks of his sufferings, and not contented to conserne her pitty by her Eyes; you had re­solv'd my Death, cruel Agnes, said he, to her, my will was agreed to it; but the Heavens would re­serve me for greater evils, and I again behold you, as unfortu­nate, but more in amour'd then I was before;

Agnes wanted not those words to molify her, the Prince's languid­ness did spake, and that fair Maids Heart was but too well dis­pos'd to render up it self. She then believ'd that Constantia ought to rest satisfied. Love who Com­bated for Don Pedre, did triumph over Friendship, and found out that happy moment, after which the Prince of Portugal had so long sighed.

[Page 93]Reproach me not of that which has cost me more then you, my Lord, said she, and accuse not an Heart that is neither ungrate­ful nor barbarous. I must say that I love you; but when that is confess'd what do you require more?

Don Pedre who expected not so favourable a revolution, did feel a double satisfaction, and falling at Agnes's Feet; he told her more, with a silence which his Passion had caus'd then all the most E­loquent words could have ex­press'd.

After he had been sensible of all his happiness, he conferr'd with Agnes on what they had to fear from Don Alfonse. They concluded that the unfortunate Paper which had disturb'd Constantia's last days, could not proceed but from Elvira, and Don Alvares. The Prince who knew that the King was seeking already after new [Page 94] alliances for him, and that would have his Favorite to Marry Agnes, did so tenderly conjure her, to prevent her persecutions, to con­sent to a secret Marriage; that she agreed to it after a long de­bate, I shall do all that you please my Lord, said she, though I have but very sorrowful foresights. All my Blood freezes when I think on that Marriage, and Constantia's Image seems as if it would pre­vent it.

The amorous Prince did over­come those scruples, and parted from Agnes with a satisfaction, which soon recover'd all his strength. He after that did see her, with the Pleasure of mistery in love, and at last the day of their union was come. Don Gill, Bishop of Guarda, performed the ceremonies of their Marriage, in presence of divers witnesses that were Faithful to Don Pedre who became possess'd of all Agnes's Charms.

[Page 95]She liv'd not quiet for being now the Prince of Portugals wife. Her Enemies who still Prosecuted her did not leave her without disturbance; and the King who was offended at her resistance, did absolutely command her to Marry Don Alvares, with threats to force her will if she continu'd refractory.

The Prince did highly take her part, and that joyn'd to the refusal which he made of Mar­rying a Princess of Arragon, gave suspicions of the truth to the King his Father.

He had a second, but too much interested in the business, not to unravel it. Don Alvares, and his Sister did act in it with such cares, gave such largness, and made so many promises, that at last they did discover the secret engage­ment betwixt Agnes and Don Pedre.

[Page 96]There little wanted but that the King at first so highly tran­sported, had not broke forth in a cruel manner against the fair Princess. Don Alvares, whose love did change into a violent hatred, did stop his first fury in making him conceive that though the Marriage could be made void he should not be sufficiently re­veng'd, and he so well did Poison Alfonses mind, that he made him consent to Agnes's Death.

The Barbarous Don Alvares of­fer'd his arm for that horrid ex­ecution, and his rage did suffici­ently answer for the certainty of the sacrifice.

Don Alfonse, who thought the honour of his Family to be con­cern'd by this alliance, and parti­cularly his in his Son's proceedings, did give a full power unto that executioner who animated him.

It was not very easy to execute that design though the Prince did [Page 97] not see Agnes but in secret, all his cares were still watching for her good, and he had been above a Year her husband, when Don Al­vares found the occasion which he had so long sought after.

The Prince did not take much Pleasure, nor but rarely did di­stance himself from Coimbria. One unfortunate day, and set a part by the Heavens, for so hor­rid an act, he made a match at Hunting, towards a stately House that the Kings of Por­tugal have near to the City.

Agnes lov'd all that could please him, but a secret trouble did make her to fear that un­fortunate journey. My Lord said she to him, being alarm'd with­out knowing for what, I tremble seing you to day, as if it was the last time in my life. Pre­serve your self my dear Prince, [Page 98] and though the exercise you are going about is not always dan­gerous, consider the least of dan­gers and bring me back all that I confide in you.

Don Pedre who had never seen her so Fair and so Charming, did divers times embrace her, and went out of the Palace with his retinue not to return thither again till the next day.

While he was going, the cruel Don Alvares was preparing him­self for that Bloody execution which he had resolv'd. He thought it of that importance as not to ingage himself singly, and made choice, to accompany him in it of Don Diego Lopes Pacheo, and Pedro Cuello, two such monsters as himself, whose cruelties had been assur'd him by his presents.

They stay'd till night, and the [Page 99] Bautiful Agnes was in her first slumber, which was the last of her life, when those murtherers came to her bed side. Nothing had oppos'd Don Alvares, who was all powerful, and who was introduced near Agnes, by the blackest of furies. She did awake and perceiv'd, drawing the Cur­tain, by the light of a Taper, left lighted, the dagger with which Don Alvare's hand was arm'd. He having not covered his face she easily knew him, and forgetting her own danger to think of the Princes. Just Heavens! said she lifting up her Eyes, if you will avenge Constantia, rest contented with all my Blood, and spare Don Pedre's. The barbarous Villain who heard her, gave her not time to say more, and having not had the Fortune to move Ag­nes's Heart, he receiv'd the horrid satisfaction of stabbling it through with a Dagger, His partners did [Page 100] give her some blows also, and there needed not so many to put an end to her innocent life.

What a Spectacle, for those that approach'd her Bed the next Morning, and what news for the most unfortunate Prince of Portugal. He presently return'd to Coimbria at the first rumour of this adven­ture, and did behold that which had certainly cost him his life, if one could dye of grief. After he had a thousand times embrac'd the bloody Corpse of Agnes, and said all that a just despair could prompt him to speak, he run up and down the Palace like a di­stracted Man, requiring the Mur­therers of his wife from things that understood him not. He at last saw the King, and without observing any respect, he gave a full scope to all his resentments, after he had long spoken, he fell oppress'd with grief into a faint­ness which lasted all the rest of [Page 101] the day. He was carried into his appartment, and Don Alfonse believing that this evil would prove his cure, did not repent him of what he had done.

Don Alvares with the two others went out of Coimbria, and that absence discover'd their guilt, of which the most af­flicted Prince did promise a suddain revenge unto fair Agnes's Ashes, being resolv'd to persue them to the very end of the World. He made a considera­ble party of those that were affectionate to him, and after he had made havok of those Territories which are water­ed by the Duero, he pur­su'd that War unto the Death of Alfonse, inceessantly mixing of Tears with the blood which he spilt in revenge of his dear Agnes's Murther.

[Page 102]Thus was the end of the un­fortunate Amours of Don Pedre of Portugal, and of the beauti­ful Agnes de Castro, whose memo­ry the Prince did faithfully pre­serve on his Throne, on which he set by Birth-right after the Death of Don Alfonse.