The Grand SCIPIO.
PART II.
BOOK I.
THe Illustrious
Scipio (whom we must no longer term by the name of Stranger, after his lately atchiev'd heroick actions) continued his way towards
Capsa, though with resolution not to enter into that City, notwithstanding it had declared it self neuter a little while before, and also contributed towards the support of the Roman Army. For being desirous not to be known, he would not put himself into a City where such a world of eyes would have been upon him, judging it impossible to escape meeting with some there that had seen him before, or heard of him enough by fame to know him. Wherefore he determin'd to go and spend the night in a house not far from
Capsa; and as he was yet in the grand Road, before he came to turn off into a less, which led to that House, he began to reflect upon the late adventure, which seem'd so surprising to him, that he could not but testifie as much to his Attendant. Ah!
Flavius (said he to him) is it possible that my eyes have not deluded me, but really seen
Masanissa with the most inveterate of my enemies? that
Masanissa, whom I have loved with so great ardor, and given a place to in my friendship, little different from that which
L
[...]lius possesses. But 'tis undoubtedly true, I have seen & heard him speak; and if I have not seen that
Masanissa, whose soul own'd none but generous sentiments, I have seen that
Masanissa whom men report to have poyson'd
Sophonisba, and who after the commission of a crime of that nature, may make no scruple of abandoning his best friends. 'Tis true,
Flavius, I feel some kind of reluctant thoughts in my breast
[Page 112] in favour of the King of the
Massessilians; and though all the world publishes already that he sent poyson to the Queen of
Numidia, and my self have seen him with my enemies; yet there are a kind of contrary motions in my mind, which check the passions the former inducements might raise in me. Yes,
Flavius, I feel some Favourable inclinations which will not permit me to condemn
Masanissa without being better informed, and without unriddling those things, which perhaps will serve to satisfie me, that this King is rather unfortunate then criminal. For in truth, hitherto I have found no cause to repent me of having plac'd my friendship upon any I have given it to; but contrarily I have had the happiness to see the Elections I have made of what nature soever, generally approved▪
Scipio stopt suddenly after these words, and changed colour when he considered what he had last said; and then soon after turning towards
Flavius: But alas (said he to him) if I have had this happiness, I have withall had the happiness of seeing the election which is most glorious unto me, become that which renders me the most miserable of men. Yes,
Flavius, continued he, the passion I have in my soul for the adorable
Aemilia, causes me to suffer that which certainly never any other did: and since the obstacles which are met with in the course of a passion like to mine (if yet 'tis possible to finde any like it) since, I say, these obstacles first were capable to make men unfortunate, they never made any so deeply miserable as they have me. The amorous
Scipio proceeded no further, but bestowing his silence in musing, found a sort of great satisfaction in repassing over in mind all the sweetnesses he had tasted in the conversation of the Illustrious
Aemilia, and afterward in surveying all the invincible obstacles which had hindered him from being compleatly happy. But while these thoughts possessed his mind, he beheld a slave coming towards him, whom he presently knew to belong to
Laelius. Scipio did not omit instantly to demand news of his friend, nor the slave to satisfie him respectively in these terms: My Lord, My Master being unassured in what place he might find you, by reason he chose two or three to change according to occasion, is gone to a house not farre from
Capsa, where he thinks to meet you, and sent me to that which stands upon this way, to deliver you a Letter if I should happen to find you there. Upon which words the slave accordingly presented a Letter to
Scipio from
Laelius, which containeth as followeth.
LEave the stand which you have taken up to behold
Aemilia pass by, and rather come to
Capsa, there to behold that admirable person more fully and delightfully. The Prince of
Capsa, in whose Pallace
Aemilia is to be entertained, is desirous to have you received into the same also, and his excellent Daughter the Princess of
Hippona promises to be your confident, and do you service with the Illustrious person whom you love. Therefore I beseech you moderate your discontentments, and come receive of that generous friend the assurance I tell you of.
This Letter, no question, gave
Scipio much satisfaction; and though this Illustrious Lover did not believe the Princess of
Hippona could effect much in the obliging offer she made, yet he resented some gladness from it, and speeded forward more expeditiously. He next inquir'd in what place
Laelius was, of which the slave having satisfied, and assured him he should find his Master at a place not above five or six furlongs from
Capsa; he quickned his pace so diligently, that he soon reach'd the place where the slave told him
Laelius attended him. These two Illustrious friends had no sooner express'd and perform'd all the ceremonies which a real and noble affection mutually incited them to; but they continued on their passage, during which
Laelius told
Scipio, that he should that very evening have the happiness of seeing the incomparable
Aemilia. For she alwayes departs (added he) unexpectedly from the places where she is, to avoid the expence which would be made in all Cities where she would be expected. So that you will not be surprised if you see her two dayes sooner then you believ'd. But I know not whether you will not wonder when you see the fair Princess of
Castulon with her, and the excellent
Nadalia, for whom
Thomira hath a great tenderness, and who will without doubt inform you of what ever you are desirous. But since we draw near to
Capsa, continued
Laelius, I conceive it not unfit to let you know the persons by whom you are to be entertained. Be pleased therefore to understand, that
Magasba Prince of
Capsa is a man of good years, and of a very high stature; that he is endued with virtue, integrity and wit, but hath such a formall and regular way of civility, that 'tis something troublesome to dispence with his Complements.
Palmira his admirable Daughter, whom the Prince of
Hippo married a few moneths since, as you know without doubt, is but seventeen years of age. Her stature is not extreamly tall, her complexion very fair, her eyes black, glittering and sprightly, her mouth hath a great loveliness in it, and her wit so lively and gallant, that it may be said the house of
Magasba is as well provided of a remedy, as a disease in conversation.
Laelius had scarce spoke these words, but himselfe and his Illustrious friend perceiv'd themselves in sight of the Gate of
Capsa, which lies on that side the City; but they were astonish'd when they beheld a great multitude attending them at the Gate to see them enter, and afterwards observ'd the Prince of
Capsa, who undoubtedly had been advertis'd by some belonging to
Laelius, advancing with some of prime note in the City, to receive the Illustrious
Scipio, who at that time fill'd the world with the fame of his Victories and Virtues; and to do civility to
Laelius, who was really a worthy friend of the Illustrious
Scipio. But if this reception troubled
Scipio, whose moderation was averse from all pompe, this Illustrious
Roman was much more perplexed when he heard the Complement of the Prince of
Capsa. For
Magasba, who never would conform to the mode of Gallantry which was then in fashion, began immediately to make the Elogium of
Scipio; He did not fail to tell him that he was surprised with his goodly aspect, what ever excellent Idea he had fancied of him to himself before; he extolled the Illustrious House of
Cornelii, from which
Scipio is descended; and
[Page 114] then he fell to relate the principal actions which this famous
Roman had done in
Italy, and to admire the Victories which he had gain'd in
Spain and in
Africa; and in brief, told him all that could be devised to perplex him. But when
Scipio was going to divert the conversation he saw himself driven into another perplexity not less inconvenient, since he found himself obliged to make great remerciments to
Magasba, for so are they constrained to do who have to act with persons of this humour: But as he was ready to return thanks to the Prince of
Capsa for persecuting his friends, he was happy enough to behold himselfe at the Gate of his Palace, where the fair Princess of
Hippo received him after a manner far different from that of her Father. For whilst
Magasba was gone to give some orders, he had bethought himself of (for persons of this humour have alwayes something to do) his amiable daughter entertained
Scipio so admirably, that what ever she said was far from affectation, or being too much studied and fetcht about, but was accompanied with a noble obliging and lovely air. My Lord, said she to him smiling, I know not whether or no the Prince have told you that his house is not handsome enough to be offer'd to the Illustrious
Scipio, but I know I shall make you no complement of that kind, but on the contrary promise to shew you in a little time the handsomest things in the world. What I have seen already, Madam, answered he, are so handsome, that I am ravish'd with the sight: But I shall be more too, Madam (added he) if you have the goodness to honor me with a friendship of which
Laelius hath given me hopes. Yes, Madam, said
Laelius, I have told
Scipio.
Alas,
Laelius (interposed she pleasingly) do not believe peace is so soon made between us, but know I will not easily forget the injury you have done me. How? Madam, answered
Scipio, has
Laelius disoblig'd you? Yes, My Lord, replyed she, and moreover he hath disobliged you. And moreover, interposed
Laelius smiling, I am glad I have disoblig'd you both, nor shall I readily repent of it. Alas! I beseech you
Laelius, said
Scipio agreeably, be not so fierce, and know I embrace the interests of the fair Princess of
Hippo against you. But, Madam, added he, be not so fierce, addressing to this amiable person, it is requisite I know of what nature the offence is you speak of, since I am interested in it; and though I were not so, I should notwithstanding be as sensible of it as a true friend ought to be of what concerns another so fair and generous. You must know then, replyed she, that
Laelius made a discourse to me wherein he us'd all the reasons he could invent to perswade me to act in your favour, with the illustrious
Aemila; but he did it with so much ardour, that I was in truth wholly incensed with it; for I account to intreat me with urgency to act for you, is in a manner to take pains to make me to act reasonably. Be pleased therefore to judge, My Lord, if there be not something offensive in the discourse of
Laelius. I find something so much obliging in yours, interrupted
Scipio, that I am rather inclin'd to render you thanks, then to be in choler against
Lelius; besides, that what is in your opinion an offence, being an offence of a true friend.
Alas, My Lord, cryed she, do not deceive your self, but believe the
[Page 115] offences of a true friend ought to be more highly resented. But, Madam, answered
Laelius pleasingly, do you deceive your self as little in this matter, and believe I have done that which I ought to do. For according to your own censure, I have onely failed, in that I intreated you urgently for such a person as
Scipio, and so it seems I did injury to his merit and your generosity. However, proceeded he smiling, I must advertise you, Madam, who are yet but a new friend, that a zealous and active friendship sometimes makes us do things which seem unprofitable, for fear lest coming frequently to act with too great circumspection, we let slip some important occasion of doing a service to a friend; or else lest our friendship by becoming too nice, do not also become lukewarm and languishing. So that, Madam, added he agreeably, if you have the happiness of not being more offended in what you have further to say, you will not cause me very many enemies. Scarce had
Laelius ended these words, but the Prince of
Capsa came to wait upon and conduct
Scipio to his Chamber.
Scipio refused his ceremony as much as he could; but
Magasba believing he did it out of complement, persisted so inflexibly in his resolution, that
Scipio was at length enforced to suffer himselfe to be conducted, what repugnance soever he had, to leave the amiable Princess of
Hippo. 'Tis true, this illustrious
Roman had the satisfaction of hoping he might discourse with
Laelius in his Chamber concerning the divine
Aemilia; but he was much perplext, when being come thither,
Magasba desired also to conduct
Laelius to another which was prepared for him.
Scipio and
Laelius both deprecated his civility, and believed he would not be so obstinate to separate them. But it fell out otherwise; for this Prince whose ceremonies were unalterable bent to perplex them, would needs have
Laelius leave
Scipio's Chamber, alledging it was unfit two persons of such high condition should be lodged incommodiously. The two illustrious friends answer'd, that their friendship and their affairs would not permit them to be separated. But
Magasba replyed smiling, and shaking his head a little, that it was hard to deceive a man of his age, that he perceived well what they pretended was but a fictious civility, and that they desired to be together, only that they might take up less lodging in a house wherein a great number of other guests were expected. But they needed not trouble themselves in that respect; His Palace was larger and more commodious then it seemed to be; and in a word, if there were a necessity for any to be badly lodged, it ought not to be either
Scipio or
Laelius.
These illustrious
Romans endeavoured further to oppose the will of
Magasba; they pressed him with reasons, and importuned him with intreaties: but all their instances were unprofitable, and
Magasba retain'd so obstinately, whatsoever he set upon, that
Scipio and
Laelius, after a silent beholding of one another, as to testifie how disgustful ceremonies are, at length were separated; and
Laelius suffered himself to be conducted. Indeed afterwards
Magasba was pleased to let them breathe and come together; for after having made a great complement also to
Laelius▪ he left him, and gave him liberty to
[Page 116] go to the Chamber of his illustrious Friend, though not without a fear continually of meeting or being followed by
Magasba: so true it is, that persons of this humour, are troublesome even in places where they are not.
Laelius was no sooner in
Scipio's Chamber, but they began to speak of the persecution of
Magasba, though without much insisting on it, having many more pleasing and important matters to discourse of. For
Laelius, to moderate the grief of his illustrious friend, told him all he conceived pertinent to appease his discontents, and indeavoured to perswade him he was not so unhappy as he believed himselfe to be. For are not you assured after all, said he to him, that
Aemilia loves no person to your prejudice; and when you were upon the point of marrying that adorable Lady, did you not observe as many tokens of joy in her fair eyes as you could wish? and did not you behold in those very eyes as many tokens of discontent as you did before of joy, when a surprising and dreadful obstacle interven'd to oppose your happiness? And therefore I conceive you have no cause to afflict your selfe as you do. For if the gods seem to intend that
Hannibal should marry
Aemilia—Ah!
Laelius (interrupted
Scipio) rather say the gods intend it absolutely, and that they have made it sufficiently evident. This evidence which frightens you, answered
Laelius, confirms me; besides, that we see no appearance that
Hannibal who is ardently amorous of
Thomira, should marry
Aemilia whom he never saw.
Alas!
Laelius (replyed
Scipio) you argue ill in the matter, since you know not that the Gods when they intend to make themselves remarked for the agents, are wont to make things come to pass contrary to all appearance, to amaze humane wisdome, and to make it appear 'tis a supernaturall conduct which acts and makes use of means which are remote from, and very often contrary to their end. But,
Laelius (added he) should what you say be true, and should there needed onely commodious disposition of affairs; yet do wee not already perceive an accomplishment to my unhappiness? For in b
[...]ief, if I have transferr'd the War into
Africa, it has been rather for reason of love, as I may so say, then for reason of state: And indeed
Fabius, who thought meet I should fight
Hannibal in
Italy, had not fewer reasons to make good his opinion, then I had to maintain mine, which was, that it was best to carry the Warr into the Country of the Enemy, But the Interest of my love being concerned in the business, I spoke above my ordinary force, and at length carried it from
Fabius in that famous contest. But observe,
Laelius, how the Gods delude our conduct, and how they punish us when we in any manner oppose what they have designed. For we have seen, since I brought the War into
Africa, to draw
Hannibal thither, and by that means to deprive him of all occasions of seeing the divine person which I adore, it is come to pass by a strange adventure, that
Aemilia is come into
Africa, and
Hannibal is arrived there also soon after, as well it seems to behold that adorable person as to defend
Carthage. And what can you say to this
Laelius? What have you to say to the
[Page 117] request made to me by
Aemilia not to see her? which was the cause, as you know, that I waited for her upon the way, to the end she might think it was chance that gave me the happiness of seeing her? Alas! My Lord (replyed
Laelius) I beseech you consider the matter well, and you will perceive that the request of
Aemilia is perfectly obliging, and even advantageous unto you. For since that fair person hath much inclination for you, and gives you no cause to fear your Rivals can make any benefit by your absence, it must be believed she made the request which afflicts you, onely because she believed, that being at present you cannot see one another but unfortunate, you would live in less inquietude by being remote asunder. And to testifie to you (added he) that this judicious person acts with great circumspection, I need onely tell you, that amongst all the
Romanes of quality, who offered themselves to guard her, she made choice of
Cato and
Regulus, who as you know, have less inclination to become her Lovers, then all the rest she might have chosen. For you are not ignorant, that
Cato, (as young as he is) makes profession of a wisdom which holds something of insensibility, and that
Regulus bears so violent a hatred in his heart against the
Carthaginians, that I am unapt to believe a contrary passion can easily find room in it. Thus you see, My Lord, you are not so unhappy as you believe your self, in the passion which you have for the admirable
Aemilia, since that fair person acts both prudently and to your advantage. And if you are not unhappy in the passion which you have for
Aemilia, are not you happy in that which you have for glory? For without going about to give you my applauses, and exciting you to interrupt me immedately; Is it not true, that you have not seen in History any man that has done what you have already? and if you come to vanquish
Hannibal in one decessive battlel, will not yours outshine the glory of all those that have preceded you? Alas,
Laelius, answered
Scipio, I have yet done nothing that intitles me to a great name; but for what you say of
Hannibal, added he fiercely,
I will either overcome him, or
I will not be in a condition after the battel of hearing that he has overcome me. All the beginnings (replyed
Laelius) are favourable to you; for we see the
Carthaginians are not confirmed by the powerful alliances which they have made, nor even by the arrival of the great Captain who has overcome us so often in
Italy, when you were not our General. And therefore they are instant, as you know, about that brave deputation they prepare in order to treat a Peace with you, or at least a truce, which may dispose matters to some accommodement. For in truth, added he smiling, they will have no more to do with you, who are alwayes so obstinate to carry the advantage; and they are certainly in greater fear, when 'tis told them
Scipio is coming to see them, then our women sometimes had, when it was told them
Hannibal was at the Gates. Besides this (continued he seriously) you have gallant Forces well disciplin'd: You have several Romanes under you, who deserve to be Generals where-ever you are not; and you have this advantage to be as much in quiet at
Capsa; as to what concerns the Army, as if you were in the middle of your own Camp. You have also
[Page 118] left your Lieutenants,
Aemilius, Marcellus, and
Flaminius, to command there, whose prudence and courage is beyond all exception, who are all good Souldiers, and great Captains, each of which bears revenge in his heart for the death of an illustrious Father. As for what regards the Auxiliary forces, if
Hannibal has for his Allies
Antiochus, King of
Syria, Philip King of Macedonia, and
Prusias, King of
Bithynia; you have
Ptolomy King of
Aegypt, Attalus King of
Asia, and our brave and dear
Masanissa, whom
I cannot believe to have committed the crime report accused him of. Ah!
Laelius (interrupt-
Scipio) I have seen
Masanissa with
Hannibal. With
Hannibal! cryed
Laelius, and you seen him there? Yes, replyed
Scipio, and thereupon he related to him part of what had befallen him upon the way to
Capsa. But though he recounted the adventure with very much reservation, yet
Laelius discern'd cause enough to admire the heroical comportment of his illustrious friend, when he considered with what generosity he had fought for
Hannibal, and with what generosity he afterwards undertook the combate against him. But having expressed some Tokens of Admiration for these two actions of
Scipio, hee told him he could give some light to the adventure of
Masanissa. The King of the
Massessilians and my self, proceeded he, were at the head of four thousand men which you had given me to lead to
Tacapa, that they might re-enforce the Garrison of a place whither
Hannibal perhaps might come in a few dayes. When we were not farre from
Tacapa, Masanissa, who had alwaies a strong passion for
Sophonisba, and was alwayes telling me of the charms of that fair Queen, desired to go to a little Temple of the Sun, which is not much distant from
Leptis, that he might there learn something by the answer of the god, which might give him some light in reference to what he either desired or feared. But for that he carried with him onely four or five Cavaliers; 'tis likely the Scouts of
Hannibal's Army might have set upon him and taken him prisoner, And therefore you ought not to wonder, added he, that
Hannibal and
Masanissa were seen together. Since in all probability the Carthaginian craft may have treated the King of the
Massessilians obligingly, to draw him to his party, or perhaps
Hannibal &
Masanissa, being both generous, generosity may have induced them to act in the same manner, as if they were really friends. But, however it be,
I believe
Masanissa will never withdraw himselfe from the interests of Rome; so that we have nothing to consider of but how to draw him out of the hands of our Enemies, either by ransome or exchange, that we may afterwards know the circumstances of
Sophonisba's death, of which
I cannot believe him culpable. Now you see, added he, what resolution you are to take in relation to the King of the
Massessilians; but for what concerns the interest of your passion, the Princess of
Hippo and my self will be no unactive instruments.
As for your Army,
I conceive you must expect to make a new resolution till after the Treaty of the Carthaginians, and in the mean time you may well enough repose your self upon the cares of
Aemilius, Marcellus, and
Flaminius; scarce had
Laelius finished these words,
[Page 119] but a great noise was heard in the Court of the Palace, and soon after a slave of the Princess of
Hippo entered into
Scipio's Chamber to advertise the two illustrious friends that
Aemilia, who was not looke for till two hours after was arrived, being attended with a sufficient train of Horsemen. Upon this summons
Scipio and
Laelius descended down into a low Hall, where it was told them the Princess of
Hippo was. As soon as
Palmira perceived them, she testified the joy to them which she had for the arrival of
Aemilia. And as
Scipio and
Laelius gave her the hand to go meet that illustrious Roman Lady, and were come into the fore-Court of the Palace, they beheld a number of Horsemen, who being already lighted, had ranked themselves on two sides, and holding the point of their Javelius downwards, seemed to testifie by that respectfull action that some very considerable person was to pass by. And accordingly, immediately after,
Palmira, Scipio, and
Laelius, were come forth of the Palace, they beheld the incomparable
Aemilia, and that with admiration, notwithstanding they had been accustomed to see her. For it must be confessed, the beauty of this illustrious person had a surprising brightness, that immedeately and perpetually charmed the spectators. Her stature was very hand some and portly; her carriage had something of facility & Majesty mixt together, which might be easily observed at that time. For this admirable Lady came forth from her Chariot as soon as ever she beheld
Magasba, who did not fail to go meet her. But neither the stature nor the carriage of
Aemilia were the greatest charmes she had. For this admirable person had the purest, liveliest, and radiant complexion that can be imagined. Her eyes were blewish, well open'd and very sweet; her mouth was the most lovely thing that could be lookt upon; her Hair was fair and admirably gracefull; and of all these perfections joyned together arose a surprising lustre, as I said before, or rather certain beams irradiated forth which penetrated hearts, and exciting love and pleasure in them, whilst they filled the mind with respect and admiration:
Aemilia then, being such as I have described her, and a thousand times fairer, immediately stirred up a thousand inquietudes in the breast of
Scipio, which did not cease to be violent by being pleasing. So that this illustrious Roman was every moment upon the point to cast himself at the feet of that adorable person, and to testifie the greatness of his passion to her by his extraordinary transports. But having a great soul and an infinite respect for
Aemilia, and time to repress his impetuous inclinations, he compos'd himselfe and subdued the violence of his passion. He resummon'd up part of his reason, during the time
Palmira was performing the civilities to
Aemilia, which esteem and affection suggested to her, which she accompanied notwithstanding with a submissiveness, which the greatest Princesses at that time ow'd to persons of
Aemilia's condition; And whilst
Aemilia on the other side, according to her obliging humour, return'd to
Palmira all the expressions of goodness which she ought to a Princess of great merit, and a person whom she lov'd with tenderness. Not but that
Aemilia also resented some trouble at the sight of
Scipio; for it was impossible to behold that illustrious
[Page 120] Lover so amiable, passionate and fruitful, with insenfiblility. But this incomparable Lady having a firm soul, did not appear any thing at all disturbed at it; and if she gave any tokens of that little commotion which she resented, 'twas onely by a little more colour which arose in her countenance, and serv'd onely to render it more gracefull and lovely. After having performed the civilities which this trouble did not hinder her from doing, she presented a fair young Lady to
Palmira, who by her open and gallant air, and an agreeable and sprightly aspect, was immediately known to be that lovely
Nadalia, so dearly belov'd by the Princess of
Castulon. After which
Palmira beginning to speak; In truth, Madam, said she to
Aemilia, with an air perfectly agreeable, I do not wonder you have taken this faire young Lady from the Princess
Thomira; and I should have no means of acknowledging the favour you do me in making her known to me: If I had not two illustrious Friends to present to you (continued she, presenting
Scipio and
Laelius to her) but two illustrious friends, added she smiling, whom perhaps you know already. Though I were not my self a Roman, answered
Aemilia, yet I should not be ignorant of two Romans, whose valour has extended their reputation throughout the whole world. Ah! Madam, answered the passionate
Scipio, I should be happy if you knew me by a quality which is more glorious unto me, and which I esteem much more then the most excellent I can have besides. You have so excellent (replyed she blushing a little) that you have no cause to complain, though you should be known by them without any distinction. But,
Scipio (proceeded she, to divert the discourse) if you please to point me, I shall present to you
Palmira, two friends of mine. In saying which, she presented two young Romanes to the Princess of
Hippo, of which the first, who seem'd to have some slowness in his deportment, and a kind of coldness in his countenance, besides something of gravity and severity, was presently known to be that famous
Porcius, who was not long before styled by the surname of
Cato. And the other, whose aspect was more facile and gallant, though he had something of fierceness in his countenance, was
Regulus, Son of that unfortunate
Attilius Regulus, whose death is so rumour'd in the world. After these two Romanes had made their reverence to
Palmira, they did the like to
Scipio, and were likewise embraced by
Laelius; and then all this illustrious Company entered into the Palace of
Nagasba. This Prince gave the hand of
Aemilia, Scipio and
Laelius
[...]ead
Palmira; Cato and
Regulus, Nadalia; and the Ladies that attended these three fair persons followed altogether with some Roman Officers, and some of the most considerable inhabitants of
Capsa. In which manner they accompanied
Aemilia to the door of her Chamber, when being come, all the men made a profound reverence to that admirable person, and retired.
Palmira and
Nadalia onely entered in with that illustrious Romane; Yet they continued not long there, for after some gallant and obliging discourse, wherein
Palmira did not omit to accuse her self of procuring the happiness to
Scipio which he lately received; they went forth of the Chamber, having first called
[Page 121] those of
Aemilia's attendants, whose service might be necessary unto her. After which,
Palmira offered to conduct the fair
Nadalia into a Chamber: but this young Lady having no need of reposing her self, and onely rectifying something about her head-tire, they descended into a low Hall, where they found
Laelius, Cato, and
Regulus, who were walking there, whilst
Magasba lead
Scipio into a Garden, to shew him the handsomness of the Alleys, Statues, Grottoes, and Fountaines. The conversation which was then made between
Palmira, Nadalia, Laelius, Cato and
Regulus, was absolutely pleasing and gallant; for these five persons were of rare address capacities, and politeness. And what rendered this conversation more agreeable was, that the greatest part of their wits were different, and had their particular excellencies. Those of
Palmira and
Laelius were gallant and Noble; that of
Nadalia sprightly and mirthfull; that of
Regulus partaking of both; and
Cato had in his something so cold and severe, that it was great pleasure to see him in contestation with
Nadalia, with whom he did not not very often agree. But it being upon the Princess of
Hippo to pass the first honours, she conceived her self also obliged to begin the discourse, which she did in these words, addressing to the three Romanes which were with her: If you are deprived of the happiness of being with the illustrious
Aemilia, the beauty and wit of
Nadalia will cause you to induce that loss with less regret. Alas! Madam, interrupted that admirable Lady, I beseech you cause not these persons eyes to be turn'd upon me, where you are present; and be pleased not to attribute those blandishments to me which I do not deserve. Hindering me from speaking out what I intended (replyed
Pallmira) you prevented me from comforting you for the same loss, by making you hope very much satisfaction from the conversation of three illustrious Romanes, who have rare qualifications of ingenuity. Speak of your self, if you please, Madam, (answered
Laelius) and you will speak with justice. And you will give less offence to
Nadalia (added
Cato) who loves not to hear the Romans commended, of whom she hath conceived so strange an opinion, that she takes them all for
Catoes. Alas!
Cato (interrupted this admirable Lady) I do not that favour to all the Romans; and if I have sometimes had an unkind opinion of them, you ought to forget what I ever said out of that prejudice, since from the time I knew the Romanes, I have infinitely esteemed them. And moreover, added she smiling, I may say I am now perfectly reconciled to
Rome, and am extreamly glad of being so: for in truth my imagination was tyr'd out with contending every day against that powerful City. But it would be known (said
Palmira, after having laugh'd at this speech of
Nadalia) how you could do otherwise then esteem a people who in the judgement of all others is indued with virtue, wit and valour.
To tell you the truth, answered
Nadalia, and according to the liberty permitted me every where to speak of things according to the apprehension I have of them; I conceived indeed the Romanes had
[Page 122] virtue really, but that their virtue was nothing at all lovely: on the contrary: I believed it was so rigid and severe, that it never beheld joy and divertisements without discontent and inquietude. If I believed the Romans valiant (proceeded she) I thought they were so by wit rather then greatness of courage; that they adventured upon dangers, because they were constrained to it; and if they lost their lives rather then commit an ignoble act or a cowardize, it was onely because they lookt upon infamy as something more terrible then death.
And in a word, added she smiling, I imagin'd the glory the Romans fought for, not to be a beautiful Virgin, lovely and resplendant, but a Woman of a good age, severe and Majestical. As for wit, I believed none of the Romanes destitute, and that their wit was cultivated and pollisht, but not well contriv'd; that it was a dry wit, (if I may so speak) and averse from all jollity and gallantry. And in fine, added she smiling, I imagin'd the Romans so enamour'd on their Country, that in their conversations they never utter'd other pleasantnesses but political Maxims.
But, fair
Nadalia, said
Regulus to her, the first Roman whom you knew, was not, I conceive of that severe humour. That was your self,
Regulus (answered she) who convinc'd me of my prejudice at
Saguntum. Not but that before I ever see you (continued she smiling) I violently dreaded your conversation, and that more then
I should have fear'd that of
Cato or
Fabritius. I beseech you earnestly (said
Regulus agreeably) tell me what it was that so terribly affrighted you. 'Twas because (answered she)
I believ'd you a greater lover of
Rome, then all the other Romans, and consequently more severe and political. You pronounce very confidently in favour of
Regulus (said
Palmira) without declaring your reason. 'Tis easie to render it (answered
Nadalia) for if it be reasonable (added she smiling) to measure the love of a man by the hatred he bears his Rivals; may not
I conclude that
Regulus loves
Rome more then all the Romans besides, since he hates
Carthage more then then they all do, which
I have heard a hundred times term'd the Rival of
Rome? But
Nadalia, take care what you say, (interpos'd
Cato, smiling a little) for according to what you asserted first, it will follow that
Carthage should be the Rival of
Regulus, and not of
Rome.
You have suffered me to proceed a long time without reproving me, answered
Nadalia with her accustomed pleasantness, but take heed your self (continued she with the same air) and know, that what would not be exact speaking in the mouth of
Cato, is very tolerable in that of
Nadalia; and after all, it suffices that
Regulus hates
Carthage more then you do, to give me ground to infer that he loves
Rome more then you do, as much
Cato as you are.
Nadalia pronounced these last words so agreeably, having utter'd them with a little pleasing commotion, that all the company smiled thereat. After which
Laelius beginning to speak,
I perceive
Nadalia (said he to her) you have need of my friendship, because you agree but ill with
Cato, and
[Page 123] not exceeding well with
Regulus. For which reasons I offer it to you, without expecting till you desire it of me, and I will use all means to make it acceptable unto you. For I will renounce in your presence all sort of affairs. And since the hatred of
Regulus (added he smiling) has not made a good impression in your mind, to give you better for my humour, I shall never speak to you but of love. In truth, answered she smiling, you will perhaps do me a greater pleasure then you believe, provided this last but two or three dayes; for during that time a quite contrary conversation becomes vehemently fastidious to me: and I dare affirm, the illustrious
Aemilia hath made me despair. For when I went about to speak to her concerning
Scipio, she in treated me to forbear, but it was with such a touching sweetness as would have constrain'd the most rebellious heart in the world to obey her: so that I was depriv'd of the satisfaction I should have had of performing a good office in some measure to a person, who being so young a Conqueror, is nevertheless extreamly virtuous, and infinitely amiable. But
Laelius (continued she smiling) since you have begun to make me obliging proposals in publick, it is fit you speak of Love in General, though it were onely to do displeasure to the persons with whom you give me notice, I am not upon good terms. Forbearing to speak in particular (answer'd he, I shall do all that you please, and maintain against all your Enemies, that there is nothing more powerful, nothing more noble and advantageous then love. And I shall prove (interposed
Regulus pleasantly) that what you say of Love, may be with more justice attributed to hatred. But to make the conversation more handsome (answered
Nadalia) it is requisite that you speak seriously, as also that
Cato declare himself, and take his turn; and when you have all three given your opinions, the judgement of the difference shall be referred to the Princess.
I consent to the conditions, said
Laelius; and
I do the same, added
Regulus; my submission then to the proposal shall follow, agreed
Cato. But it must be known (said
Nadalia to him) whether you will defend Love or Hatred?
I shall speak against both (answered he) But
Nadalia (said the Princess of
Hippo) I will not decide this debate, or at least, not without your judgment. It is necessary that you do it, Madam, answered she, for not to make the Elogium of your wit,
I can only say for my self, that
I am suspected in this matter. Well then,
Nadalia, replyed the Princess, to avoid a new dispute which would arise betwixt you and me:
I will do what you desire, though on condition that after
I shall have declared my judgement, you tell your own without dissimulation or complyance.
I shall obey your pleasure, (answered she.)
To begin therefore to speak of Love, said
Laelius, I shall assert, that we have nothing more powerful, nothing more advantageous or noble, then the excellent passion I speak of. We see Love is a God, and a God so powerful, that he hath subdu'd all the rest to his Empire, and who, that he might triumph generally over all, hath overcome himself, and sometimes sigh'd after the fair
Psyche. And if it be true,
[Page 124] proceeded he, that Division of what nature soever, is a thing absolutely destructive; is it not just to affirm that we have nothing more advantageous then Love, which is a passion that preserves all things while it unites them? And indeed, was it not Love that establish't civil society amongst the first men? Was it not love that afterwards incited them to elegancy of life, and teaches us every day to live as much for others as for our selves? But these are not all the effects of love; for if virtue makes it self to be belov'd, it must be love that inspires it, since love seeks alwayes to extend it self in the heart of the beloved person. Moreover we see every day this excellent passion gives courage to the Pufillanimous, moderates the fierceness of Conquerors, opens the Purse of the Covetous, and daily inspires us with such excellent sentiments, that we may in a manner say, that Nature by giving us Being onely, makes us living Creatures; but 'tis love which afterwards renders us reasonable. In truth (said
Regulus, when he perceived
Laelius had no more to say) I am in a strange perplexity, being oblig'd to answer a person of a transcendent wit. It lies upon me to speak in commendation of hatred before the beautiful persons who ought extreamly to abhor it, since they look upon the contrary passion every day as an effect of their beauty; and in brief,
I must be the Patron and Protector of a thing whose onely name seems presently odious.
But since it cannot be evident, continued he agreeably,
I shall maintain that Hatred is more powerful, more advantageous, and more noble then Love. And in effect, Is it not true, that there is more evil then good in the world? that Grief acts more vigorously then Joy? and that Poysons deprive us of a life, which remedies are unable to restore?
If this be true, as is not to be doubted; Is it not also true, that the passion which with-drawes from all these things
I mention'd, ought to be more powerful and advantageous then that which leads us to good, which is usually found more weak then evil, as
I said before?
I might hereunto add a hundred other particulars to the advantage of Hatred; but
I shall content my self with answering what
Laelius hath spoken in the commendation of Love.
I observe then, that he said Love is a God, and a God that hath subdued all the other Deities to his Empire. Nevertheless also
I observe it may be answered, that that very God may as well bear the name of the God of Hatred. And indeed, does he not shoot as many Arrows headed with lead, which produce hatred in the breasts they touch, as he does of those which are pointed with Gold, which inflames the hearts which they wound; and consequently causing as much hatred as love, he might assume the name of the former of these Passions, if perhaps the people had not been at first dazled with the effects of the richer mettal, or at least if they had not conceiv'd some greater pleasure in naming them, then in naming Hatred, which was produc'd by a metal not esteem'd of. For in truth, one of these Passions does not satisfie more then the other; and
I believe a person that hates, pleases himself as much in
[Page 125] his aversion, as a person that Love finds satisfaction in reflecting on his affection. Therefore let
Laelius change his opinion, and let him no longer say, That 'tis Love rather then Hatred which establish'd civil society by uniting our fore-fathers together; that love hath induc'd us to politeness of manners, and taught us liberality, and the way to act for the interest of others. For, as for my part,
I believe Hatred produc'd these excellent effects, and think it not difficult to be prov'd. For be pleas'd, Ladies, to imagine the world without society and civil manners; you will soon apprehend how men continuing in Desarts without union and order, would kill one another like Tygers and Leopards; but you will also see that coming by degrees to conceive a hatred against such disorder, they will unite to preserve themselves, they will build Cities to secure themselves from the attempts of strangers, and constitute punishments against those that shall cause disturbance amongst them. Thus you see, Hatred will establish civil Society. And let it not be objected to me, that this proceeds rather from the love we bear our selves, which causes to unite for our own conversation, since on the contrary 'twas that self-love which caused all the former disorder: for the strong would never go about to oppress the weak, if he were not desirous to ravish from him what he sees him possess; so that it may be said, 'tis that self-love which caused division and hatred that has afterwards establisht civil society. But this is not all the advantage which we receive from Hatred. For after having establish'd society, it hath also taught us the means to preserve it: for (that as in the primitive confusion) men hurt and kill'd one another; it behov'd them in society to act one for another, whereby they have made a kind of act of doing good offices, and obliging generously.
Moreover,
I affirm, that Nature has made us more rational by giving us Hatred, then by giving us Love, since we have more evil to encounter with (as I said) then good to pursue; and it is necessary first to overcome the evil that we may afterwards attain the good; as no question, it behoveth first to conquer our Enemies, before we can enjoy the sweetnesses of the victory. Thus you have (added
Regulus) what I had to plead in defence of a passion, which has not so many Patrons as it ought, & whose very name oftentimes affrightens persons who knows not the nature of it. In truth (said
Laelius) I am highly pleas'd it fell to me to speak first, for having heard
Regulus, how much better soever my cause be, I should be strangely perplext, if
I were in the place of
Cato. You would not be so, answered
Cato, if you were really in my place; since you would not resent the troubles which the passions excite, or at least you would not be obliged to speak in their commendation, and extol the source of all mischiefs, and the cause of all irregularities. For in brief, 'tis reason which ought to guide a man, and 'tis the violence of passions which clouds his reason, and causes a man not to deport himself as a man.
Cato held his peace after these words: but because 'twas known he was naturally inclin'd to silence, it was the custome to ask questions, or
[Page 126] propose Objections to him to draw him to speak. Wherefore
Lelius taking this course: How,
Cato? (said he to him) do you content your self with speaking those few words against the passions? Have not I said enough (answered he) when I told you 'twas they which hindered a man from acting like a man, and term'd them the source of all irregularities?
But we may say also (replyed
Lelius) that they are the source of very many virtues: For we see daily, Fear renders us prudent, by making us fore-see the Evils which threatens us, and boldness makes Conquerors. I know well (answered
Cato) that the Passions sometimes conduce to the purposes you speak of: but it falls out so seldom, that they lead us to Virtue, and so often, that they carry us to Vice, that in truth I should be loth to make use of their assistance. As in case I were to sight a battel (added he)
I should not be very glad to serve my self of Souldiers whom
I saw inclinable to revolt against me, and readier to tear me in pieces, then to make me carry the victory. But yet it must be confess'd (said
Regulus) that the virtues which serve to govern the Passions, would be no longer in the world, if you should banish thence the motions which they ought to regulate.
I acknowledge it, answered
Cato, but you must also grant me, that in this case we should suffer no damage. For since the Virtues you speak of, serve onely to govern the Passions, they would become uuprofitable in the world after there were no longer any Passion in it: so that we should in a manner be satisfied for the losse of them on this condition, as we should be assuredly ravish'd with joy for having no physical remedies in the world, provided there were also no diseases. what you say, is unquestionably ingenious (said
Regulus) but I find an impossibility in the thing; for I do not believe it possible to root up the Passions out the heart of man.
If we cannot wholly pull them up by the roots (answered
Cato) we may at least pull up all that germinates from thence, provided it be done speedily, and they be not permitted to grow vigorous and gather too great strength.
Cato spoke no further; and
Lelius and
Regulus knowing his humour, did not attempt to oblige him to speak more, so that it now came to the Princess
Palmira (notwithstanding all her refusals) to give her judgment concerning these contrary sentiments which she had heard deliver'd. She endeavour'd indeed, before she would pronounce to draw forth the opinion of
Nadalia; but this amiable Virgin oppos'd it so resolutely, though withal very civilly, that
Palmira was constrained to pronounce without it, which yet was not tell she had first engag'd
Nadalia to declare her own sentiments afterwards, without dissimulation or complyance. This little contestation being ended, silence was made, during which, the fair Princesse of
Hippo lookt upon the three Romans, who expected to be judged by her, and then told them that
Lelius had spoken extream gallantly, that
Regulus had contriv'd his reasons in a very ingenious manner, but that there was more wisdom and safety in following the sentiments of
Cato. Palmira had no sooner ended these few words,
[Page 127] but
Laelius and
Regulus were satisfied with them, and return'd her thanks.
But that which seem'd extraordinary and unexpected in this occasion, was, that
Cato, who was the most oblig'd to
Palmira, continued in his wonted coldness, without making any remorciment at all to the fair Princess. Upon which,
Laelius, who was of an open and gallant address, could not suffer
Cato to use this severity; but being they were familiar and intimate, 'tis strange to me (said he to him) that you have not thank'd the Princesse
Palmira for preferring your sentiments before ours. And I find it more strange (answerd
Cato, without being mov'd) that you give the Princess of
Hippo thanks for speaking what she thinks. We give her thanks (replyed
Laelius) because she thinks and speaks things to our advantage. The Princess
Palmira (answered
Cato) being a just person, thinks and speaks so onely, because she believes you deserve she should; so that her sentiments not giving you any merit, and onely declaring, to speak the truth, that you are deserving, you are more oblig'd (if I may so speak) to your own merit, since 'tis that which produces those advantagious sentiments in
Palmira of you. We know well, said
Regulus to
Cato, that you do not want reasons to maintain your severe humour. But, believe me,
Cato, 'tis alwayes a severe humour, and consequently not so lovely as the pleasantness of
Nadalia, who is engag'd to speak after the Princess of
Hippo. Fair
Nadalia (added
Laelius, turning towards this lovely Virgin) tell us with freedom and sincerity, as you promised, whether your judgment be conformable to that of the Princesse
Palmira. To speak in the manner required of me (answered she with an air perfectly pleasing, and addressing to the company in general) I shall tell you, that
Laelius and
Regulus have spoken very rationally, and that according to what I have heard, their sentiments are not so contrary as they seem. As for those of
Cato, it is impossible that I should approve them. For indeed, one, but the least cause of our contrary opinions, is the diversity of our humours; but besides, added she smiling, if onely insensibility were required to wisdom, I believe a Rock would be a great Philospher, and a Tree wiser then
Cato.
At these words of
Nadalia, the company expressed a smile of approbation; and some of them telling
Cato, they wondered a person so ingenious should not approve these opinions; I had rather, answered he, it should be wondered why witty persons appove not my sentiments, then why they do. As
Cato was speaking these words,
Scipio and
Magasba entered into the Hall, and changed the conversation; where after they had spoken of divers matters, and
Palmira was told by one of her Attendants, that they might go up to
Aemilia's Chamber without disturbing her; all this illustrious company went up thither; saving
Maga
[...]ba, who by good fortune was drawn otherwhere to take care for something which he conceiv'd wanting to that exact and troublesome civility of which he made profession. But
Aemilia being recovered of her weakness, and beholding
Magasba's Garden from
[Page 128] her Chamber window, she declared her desire to go and walk there, upon which all this noble company readily accompanied this admirable Lady thither.
Cato gave the hand to
Aemilia, which
Scipio presumed not to do out of respect, but lead
Palmira, as
Laelius and
Regulus did
Nadalia, to whom they told a thousand divertising things although very contrary. For
Laelius alwayes▪ spoke to her as a friend, and
Regulus as an enemy, to render the conversation more agreeable, founding that enmity upon the opinion which
Nadalia sometimes had of him before she knew him.
Aemilia and
Cato had without doubt an excellent Discourse, but after a prudent and serious manner; and the illustrious
Scipio entertained the amiable
Palmira onely with the violent passion he had for the adorable Lady which he saw walk before him. The Princess of
Hippo was really affected with the expressions of
Scipio, and therefore being willing to do a service to that illustrious Lover, she insensibly drew
Aemilia into an Alley which ended in a fair Grotto, on both sides of which were two little Arbors of Jasmine.
Nadalia, Laelius, and
Regulus amus'd themselves in beholding the Grotto; and when
Aemilia, Palmira, Scipio, and
Cato, were entered into one of those Arbors,
Laelius began to dispute very loud against
Nadalia, upon the first thing she spoke, and then went into the A
[...]bor where
Aemilia was, to cause
Cato to come forth. In truth (said he, as hs was entering) I think we are to day design'd to nothing but dispute; and therefore, Ladies, it is necessary that you give us
Cato to judge of our differences, since it cannot be objected that he is a passionate Judge; and moreover, added he agreeably, our company hath more need of wisdom then yours. The fair
Aemilia, who nothing doubted the little treason intended against her, and beheld her self with the Princess of
Hippo, did not oppose
Laelius's desire; but answered pleasingly, that if she had known of their being already so high in contest, she would have contributed all her indeavours to the composing of their differences. And I wonder, Madam, (added she pleasingly, turning towards
Palmira) that you have not put an end to their debates which you caus'd to arise rise amongst them.
I know not very well (answered she) whether I have wanted power, or a will to do it. For power, replyed
Aemilia, I will not do that injury to the persons amongst whom the dispute is we speak of, to believe they will not submit to your sentiments; nor on the other side, will I accuse you of not having bin willing to bring matters to an accommodement. Alas, Madam (replyed
Palmira) I was not much solicitous of doing what you speak of; for, besides that I was willing to hear handsome Discouses, I had an accommodement to make which was of greater importance.
Palmira in speaking these words, lookt upon
Aemilia in such a manner, that this Roman understood what she intended to intimate; so that she would not answer to a Discourse, the continuance of which she did not desire.
But the passionate
Scipio not being able to moderate his transports at the sight of so many charms, cast himself at
Aemilia's feet, and
[Page 129] told that Admirable person without her being able to interrupt him, all that a violent and respectfull passion could inspire him with to move her. No, no, Madam (said he to her) you must not persist in this cruel inflexibleness which causes all my torment; but you ought at least to listen to a Princess who would intercede in my favour with you. I beseech you,
Scipio (answered this fair person) moderate your passions, or rather augment that which you have, for glory, to the end you may weaken that which serves onely to trouble your quiet, and accuse not of your unhappiness a person who is her self in danger of becoming the most unhappy in the world. Therefore (continued she, rising up) you ought onely to think of overcoming the fierce enemy of the Romans: And in the mean time
Scipio, (added she, offering to go forth) believe I shall not perhaps have more zeal to pray the Gods in behalf of my Country, and my Brother, then I shall have to make vowes for your preservation and your glory. She was going out as she ended these words; but
Scipio retain'd her, and then beholding her with eyes which spoke sufficiently both his love and his discontent. How? Madam (said he to her) have you the cruelty to forsake the Princess of
Hippo, without hearing what she hath to say to you. In the name of the Gods,
Scipio (answered she, with a suppliant action and infinitely affecting) do not oppose what I am desirous of. And you, Madam (added she, turning towards
Palmira) be pleased to have the goodness to pardon me the incivility which I am enforced to commit; and believe, I beseech you, that you would not accuse me of injustice, if you knew the reasons for which I act in this manner. You must then, if you please, Madam (answered
Palmira) do me the favour to let me know them, and to permit
Laelius to recount me the History of his Illustrious friend (which he dares not do without your consentment) to the end I may afterwards act equitably both for you and
Scipio. I consent to it (replyed she going forth) and I am glad you will by that means learn that I have done for
Scipio whatever gratitude obliged me to, or virtue permitted me.
After these words, all the Company joyn'd together again, and
Palmira failed not to acquaint
Laelius with the consent she had obtained of
Aemilia; so that (added she) I shall not suffer you in quiet till you have satisfied my curiosity. I shall satisfie it when you please (answered he to her) and shall be glad to let you know two Illustrious persons who are not known to you now but imperfectly.
As she ended these words, the Prince of
Capsa came among this fair company, and continued with them till he judged it time for supper. Their repast was compleatly magnificent; and after a short conversation,
Aemilia was accompanied to her Chamber, and
Nadalia to hers by
Palmira, into which the Princess entered, and caused
Laelius to enter too. Who knowing the intentions of these two fait persons, and
Aemilia's pleasure that
Nadalia should hear the particularities of her life, seated himself down by them. And though this famous Roman was term'd among others by the names of the wise and knowing, yet he understood so well how to accommode his knovvledg and vvisdom,
[Page 130] that he did not appear less gallant and debonair among the Ladies, then he vvas othervvhere a Warrier, politick and virtuous. He began his relation in these vvords, addressing it to
Palmira onely, as
Nadalia had entreated him to do.
The History of SCIPIO and AEMILIA.
EXpect not, Madam, to hear in the beginning of my Discourse, that kind of Proem which they generally use vvho are to recount a History. They are vvont to promise great matters to gain the attention of those that hear them; they pick out high words to shew their excellent wit, and never fail to excuse themselves that their eloquence is short of the subject they are to treat of. For my part, Madam, I account it not material for me to make use of these Artifices; for besides that, I believe that the names of
Scipio and
Aemilia, promise at first all that can be imagin'd great, I conceive it would be needless for me to take pains to win the attention of a Princess, who without doubt would not have commanded me to speak, if she intended not to listen to what I have to say. As for high language, Madam, I presume you will readily dispense with me; for besides that, it shews some violence and enforcement in him that uses it, yet it too much takes up the hearers, who oftentimes heedlesly let important matters pass by, and even some which being necessary to the body of the History, it is impossible afterwards to dis-intricate adventures. But, Madam, I shall yet less serve my self of the excuses which I now condemn'd: for to tell you things as I apprehend them, if I were eloquent, I should be so far from being sorry that my eloquence were short of the subject that I speak of, that I would repress it in case it offer'd to lift up it self, and keep it under, as I may so speak, to the end there might be nothing in my discourse that might divert part of an attention which
I would have wholly bestow'd on the things I should speak, and not on the words I made use of to express them. For what can be heard more satisfactory to the mind, and capable to fill it with excellent Idea's, then the relation I am going to make, whether you consider that greatness of birth in the persons I am to speak of, or admire the rare qualities of their bodies and minds, or be affected with the sentiments of an heroick soul; or lastly, desire to hear surprising events related, which seem destinated onely to cause revolutions in the lives of extraordinary persons? But, Madam, lest you should apprehend me guilty of the fault I decry, it behoves me to enter upon the matter, and to let you know that
Scipio is of the Illustrious race of the
Cornelii, which has always bin so fruitful in great men, that 'tis not without cause the sir-name of
Scipio has bin given them, which signifies in our language a Prop, or stay, since assuredly the
Cornelii hath ever supported our Republick, and defended it couragiously against all the enemies that have attaqued it. Nevertheless I may say, since all the world believes and publishes
[Page 131] it, that the Illustrious
Scipio has yet a higher descent, and is Son of the great Gods. For you have heard, I imagine, that
Iupiter was seen under the form of a great Dragon in the Chamber of the Mother of this Illustrious Roman, as 'tis reported he was sometimes seen in that of
Olympias the mother of
Alexander. And that which may in some measure perswade us, that
Scipio is the son of
Iupiter, or at least as worthy to be so as the famous King of
Macedonia is; that
Scipio is extreamly pious, endued with all virtues, and blemished with no defect; that being not born upon the Throne, he is risen by his virtue to the supream authority which he possesses, that he has already done things in
Europe and
Africa which will astonish posterity; and that if he happens to defeat
Hannibal in a decisive battel, he will have done more then ever
Alexander did.
There is yet a difference between these two great men, which is, that the King of
Macedonia would peremptorily have had the whole world treated him as the Son of
Iupiter, and on the contrary the whole world would have treated
Scipio in that manner, if himself had not opposed it.
It is true, this famous Roman has taken no extream care to root this belief absolutely out of the minds of people, but it has only bin out of respect to the glory of
Rome; for he believ'd the Souldiers would fight with a higher confidence, if they conceiv'd they fought under a Son of
Iupiter, and would take themselves to be invincible when they beheld a Demy-God in the head of them. But, Madam, intending only to speak of
Scipio as of a great man, and the Son of
Publius. Scipio, who lost his life gloriously in
Spain at the winning of a great field, I shall omit to tell you of the prodigies that were seen at
Rome on the day of his birth, which caused us to presage good fortune to our Common-wealth, and of those that were also observ'd at
Carthage, which had a contrary effect. For 'tis reported that the day on which
Scipio was born, according to the supputation that has bin made of it, the Tongue of Land on which
Carthage is built was perceiv'd to tremble, and that Eagles were seen entring into the houses of the
Suffetii, who as you know, have the same authority in
Carthage that the Consuls have in
Rome. But for that all these Prodigies, which are nothing but extraordinary signs of things not common, would not much divert you; I shall prefer to tell you things more essential to
Scipio, and which will certainly be more agreeable and pleasing to you.
After having spoken of the house of the
Cornelii, it may seem convenient before further proceeding in my relation, to say something of that of the
Aemilii, being as well to recount to you the life of the Illustrious
Aemilia, as that of the Grand
Scipio. The first therefore that bore the name of
Aemilius, was according to an opinion sufficiently authentick, a Son of the famous
Pythagoras, named
Marcus, to whom the name of
Aemilius was given by reason of his eloquence. This
Marcus after the death of his Illustrious Father, who, as all the world knows, came out of
Greece into
Italy, went to
[Page 132] inhabitate at
Rome, where he establisht the
Aemilis. But, Madam, there is yet something more of Grandeur in the Original of this Illustrious House: for according to several inquisitive Antiquaries, the
Aemilii is descended from that famous
Aemilia, daughter of
Aenaeas and
Lavinia, who was of such admirable beauty, that
Mars himself became amorous of her. And the
Hero that was the issue of that affection, was not
Romulus, as some would have it, but the first of the
Aemilii, who having no father upon earth, bore the name of his Illustrious Mother, and caused these words to be engraven on the Gate of his Palace in our language, which signifie,
We are from Mars.
Behold therefore, Madam, what are the Houses of the
Cornelii and the
Aemilii, which have given us the Illustrious
Scipio, and the admirable
Aemilia. As for the education of the fair person I named last, I shall not insist upon the particularities of it, but content my self to tell you, that
Publius, who was undoubtedly an excellent person, omitted not to breed up
Scipio nobly. For himself train'd him up in all his exercises at home; and then caus'd him to be taught the Sciences, and also sent him to
Greece to perfect and polish his mind.
It was my happiness that my Father sent me hither too at the same time; so that it was at
Athens where I began to contract that friendship with
Scipio which is so taken notice of in the world, and will unquestionably be the sole advantage that will make me known to posterity. But if the Romans admired the wit of
Scipio, I may say the Greeks were astonish'd at it: all the excellent persons that were at that time at
Athens, resorted to
Scipio's lodgings, either to make conversation with him, or to take his sentiments for the works which were then writ in
Greece. And to shew you that
Scipio's mind is none of those narrow ones, who cannot addict themselves but to one science, or to one kind of writing: I have onely one thing to tell you that all the world knows already. You may please then to know, Madam, that
Ermius, who was at that time at
Athens, and who began there to write Latine Verses in imitation of the
Greeks, and to bring our Poetry into the world which our Fathers never before attempted; began also to ingratiate himself with
Scipio, and to shew him his Works before he durst publish them to the world. But if
Scipio were admirably accurate in judging the Works of
Ermius, which have a style majestical and rough, he did not judg with less exquisiteness of the ageeable Comedies which
Terence began to compose at that time, and us'd to bring to him himself, and which had a certain air so easie, natural, and gallant, that all the ingenious love them with an extream passion. But this was not all the attraction of
Scipio's wit, to draw persons of different humours and contrary Nations to him, as I told you; for he allured even the Greeks themselves, who liv'd not at
Athens. Polybius quitted
Megalopolis, being charm'd by the reputation of this Illustrious Roman, to come and be near him, and hath since begun (as no question
[Page 133] you have heard) to write of the Warr which we have at
Carthage. But, Madam, I should not have spoken thus largely of
Scipio's wit, but onely because he shews it at full view but to few persons, and shews to very few of his friends whatsoever he writes in Verse or Prose. I will not be so prolix in commending his courage, since in the recital of his life, you will see a thousand evidences of a prodigious valour; and I shall also forbear to tell you of two or three single fights he had at
Athens, in defending the interests of his Nation and his friends. Not but that there is something extraordinary and surprising in that which I pass over in silence; for though
Scipio had not reacht his sixteenth year, yet he got the better in three combates which he fought with so much advantage and glory, that all the Swordmen began to make their resort and familiarity with him, as the wits had done already. But he might have drawn more pleasant advantages from those which he gain'd in his fightings if he had pleased: for his reputation joyn'd with his noble aspect, caus'd all the handsome persons whom we saw both at
Athens and the other Cities of
Greece, where we came to have a high esteem for him, and so great a complacency, that I have wonder'd a hundred and a hundred times, how
Scipio could live in
Greece without being intangled, and that he had no more but a generous and respectful civility for so many amiable persons. For nothing is more true then that he never resented those agreeable agitations which they call Love all that time, during which he liv'd after a most perfectly pleasing manner. But it was requisite for him in a short space after to forsake that calm manner of living; for news came into
Greece, that
Asdrubal having bin slain, his brother in law
Hannibal was put in the head of the Army of the
Carthaginians; that he had already over-run a part of Spain; that he ever since won all the places that he attempted; and that after such good success he prepared to besiege the strong City of
Saguntum, confederated with the people of
Rome.
We also heard at the time, that
Regulus was gone to put himself into
Saguntum, and that the Romans had sent Ambassadors to
Carthage, to complain of the proceedings of
Hannibal there, who contrary to the League made by his Father
Amilcar, and renewed by
Asdrubal his Brother in law, led his Army against the confederates of
Rome.
Scipio no sooner understood what I have rehears'd to you, but he felt himself inflam'd with a desire of glory, and an ardor wholly generous. So that the same day having taken order for all accommodations for his journey, he departed the next morning to go into
Italy. My self being a Roman of no bad inclinations, and a friend to
Scipio, departed with him, and we went to the Isle of
Zocynthus to ship our selves, because we were inform'd there was a Vessel of
Lilybaeum there in readiness to hoise sayl and return for
Sicily. But, alas! fair
Nadalia, we were no sooner arrived at
Zacynthus, (whose Inhabitants, without doubt you know, went in former
[Page 134] times into
Spain to found
Saguntum) but we beheld all the world in sorrow, and learnt that
Hannibal had entered that miserable City by assault.
They went yet further, and as people are wont not to intermix in lamentable news any thing that may mitigate them, they told us nothing of the passages of
Hannibal and
Thomira, but contrarily inform'd us; all were destroy'd by fire and sword, and that they had not spared the Prince
Edescon, nor
Lucius, nor
Regulus. At this news
Scipio lost all moderation, expressing a thousand regrets for this miserable City, and in his agitations threatned
Carthage, and blamed
Rome for not having succour'd her Allies. But as soon as we were imbarqu'd, the wind became so favourable to us, that we soon arriv'd in
Sicily, where chance caus'd us to meet with a man who expected an opportunity to go into
Greece, to bring us Letters from
Publius, and my Father, who commanded us to go to
Pisa. Wherefore we continued on our voyage, and the wind also still favouring us, we arriv'd in a short time at
Pisa, where
Publius gathered together all the ships he could, both upon the
Tyrrhene Sea, and that of
Liguria, to pass afterwards to
Marsilia, and give
Hannibal battel amongst the
Gauls.
It would be difficult to represent to you the caresses that
Publius made to
Scipio, though he endeavour'd to restrain part of his tenderness, and to express to you the joy which he resented when he beheld his dear son exceeding the relations of fame in the goodliness of his person. I shall content my self with telling you, that after
Publius had received his Son in this manner, he gave him some reproofs.
Scipio (said he to him) if you have shew'd your self generous by coming into
Italy, when you knew it convenient to serve
Rome, you are to be commended; but you give me no cause to be pleas'd with you in coming without my order. For you ought to know, I have the sentiments of a true Roman, and a heart firm enough to be able to sacrifice you to your Country; and that if you are generous enough to desire to deserve it, before you have attain'd your seventeenth year, I am so to have you serve it, and to command you to do it.
Publius pronounced these words with such Majesty, that
Scipio blusht out of respect, and afterwards beginning to speak; My Lord (answered he, with a profound submission) having an assured belief that you would send order for me to come away; I did so without expecting it, and was willing to arrive the sooner with you, to deliver you from the care of sending into
Greece. Scipio had scarce ended these words, but the young
Fabius, the young
Flaminius, Cato, Servilius, Lentulus, and seven or eight other young Romanes of quality, came to do reverence to
Publius, and to testifie to him the satisfaction which they had in beginning to serve under him.
Publius receiv'd them with all the civility that they could desire; after which having commanded
Scipio to salute them, we all saluted one another with very much joy and affection. All
[Page 135] these young Romans were so ravisht with beholding the goodly aspect of
Scipio, and observing a certain gracefulness in all his actions and words, that they began forthwith to esteem him infinitely, and accompanied the caresses they made him with a certain respect, which their age, which was something more advanc'd then that of
Scipio, might have in a manner dispens'd with. But, Madam, not to detain you with relating the cares
Publius took to form an Army; I shall onely tell you, that this Illustrious Roman having suddenly and strangely gathered one together, we departed from
Pisa, and arrived happily at
Marsilia. There we soon understood from
Regulus who was come thither, that
Hannibal had beaten the
Gauls, which attempted to dispute the passage of the
Rhosne with him, and that he was preparing to pass over the Alpes with an Army of an hundred thousand foot, and twenty thousand horse. Upon which
Publius sent
Regulus with three hundred horse both to observe the march of the
Carthaginians, and to discover in what places the Roman Army might most advantageously encampe. But for that
Scipio had learnt that
Hannibal was wont to sent forth parties, either to pillage or to discover the passages; he came into my Chamber the same morning that
Regulus departed, and embracing me presently with a gladsome kind of fierceness upon his countenance; Come, my dear
Laelius, (said he to me) let us go to horse, and not slip the first occasion of drawing our swords, without putting our selves into a condition of drawing them.
I had no sooner consented to what he propounded, and we had no soo
[...]er taken our Horses, but we speeded after
Regulus with such happy diligence, that our arrival was serviceable to him; for when we overtook him, we found him engag'd with five hundred Horse of
Hannibal's Army, who notwithstanding his valour, had totally de
[...]eated him, if
Scipio had not came opportunely to his relief.
But this Illustrious Roman whom I endeavoured to second, was no sooner came up to
Regulus in the head of his men, but he presently slew a valiant
Numidian, who commanded the party of the Enemies; and being afterwards ingag'd in the midst of those
Africans, he carried death and terrour where ever his dreadful sword was seen. At length we dispatcht or put to flight the Enemy, and
Regulus testifi'd that he ow'd all the advantage to him which he had gain'd; and all the Romans beheld this young
Hero with a veneration more then men use to resent in beholding persons like themselves.
Publius, and all the Romans of quality, received us at
Marsilia with much joy, and very many demonstrations of esteem; but amongst all the testimonies of both they gave us, it was easily discern'd what an extraordinary admiration they had of the young
Scipio. The Illustrious
Publius was he alone that endeavour'd to constrain himself, and not to shew fully how much he esteem'd his dear
Scipio; but his eyes oftentimes betray'd that severe prudence,
[Page 136] in which there was observ'd now and then such joy, and so many tokens of tenderness, that we well perceiv'd that he who testified by his words that he resented onely a moderate satisfaction, really resented an extraordinary gladness. But how highly will he augment this esteem and admiration?
Publius no sooner understood that
Hannibal marcht directly towards the
Alpes to pass over them, and bring the War into
Italy, but he set sail, and assoon as he was landed, bestowed all diligence to give check to the
Carthaginians. He re-inforced his Army with the remains of that of
Manlius, who had been beaten by the
Gauls; and having also received some new Troops from
Rome, in which was the young
Aemilius, brother of
Aemilia, he onely took care to provide for a battel. Accordingly he passed the
Po, and the
Tesino in the head of his Army: and being he marched towards
Hannibal, and
Hannibal also was coming towards him, it was not long before they met and encountred. At first the good order and fierce appearance of our enemies, struck some terror into our Forces; But
Publius confirmed them, and made them go on with confidence enough against an Enemy more potent in number, and made proud by several victories, sacks of Cities, and the presence of
Hannibal. Our Illustrious Generall found his courage encreas'd the nearer he approacht such an enemy; and passing from rank to rank, embracing some, and encouraging others, after all necessary preparation; My friends (said he) we are to fight to day not onely for our lives and liberties, but also in defence of our Wives, our Children, our Temples, and in a word, in defence of the walls of
Rome: for, you see, our Enemies are now in
Italy, the Pyrenean Mountains and the Alps are no longer between us, and they have no more
Spaniards and
Gauls to fight with. But to put you in mind, (added he, addressing to those whom he believ'd to be timerous) that you are Romans, and that you are going to charge the
Carthaginians, is sufficient to make you see that you are running to Victory. For have we not alwayes beaten the enemies which we go to attaque? Have we not imposed tributes upon them? And have we not enforced them to seek our alliance? What have we therfore to fear? Is it for that they have passed the
Pyrenaean Hills and the Alps. Alas! my friends, this is it which assuredly promises us victory, since we are going to charge forces, whom weariness and the Ice of the Alps have half overcome already, and we are without question going to finish the conquest.
While
Publius was speaking in this manner, his generous Son upon sight of the Enemies, began to appear more admirable then he ever had yet done; his heart (if I may so speak) seem'd to quit its ordinary place, and make it self seen in his eyes, in his countenance, in his action, and in his words; his aspect became more firm and fierce, and his aire suddenly high and imperious. Let us on (said he to fifteen or twenty Volunteers who were to fight together) let us go shew
Hannibal the difference there is between the Romans and the Nations which he has overcome; and let us onely remember that Romans, and such Romans as we, ought to die in the arms
[Page 137] of glory, or take from thence the Crowns which are never attain'd but by generous attempts.
He had scarce ended these words, but he fell in amongst the Enemies with an unparallel'd impetuosity; so that
Maharbal, who commanded the wing which we charg'd, was much put to it to bear up against this furious shock. But being a man of unquestionable valour, he quickly rallied his men which we had at first disordered. And soon after meeting with
Scipio, they singled one another out and fought, till they were parted by the throng that fell in upon them.
Scipio was then desirous to find
Hannibal, and so opening his passage on every side with his sword, he encountred with
Magar, whom he wounded and cast to the ground; killing afterwards and over throwing all that stood in his way. At length he came to a place where he thought he might find the fierce Enemy he sought for: But, alas! it was in that place that we beheld
Publius forsaken by his own men, and encompassed with above two hundred of the enemies Horse, and onely endeavouring to dye gloriously. We beheld him all cover'd over with blood and dust; he defended himself with his shield, and kept off his enemies with his sword, and being still seconded by seven or eight men, disputed his life generously. But this resistance would have been nnprofitable, had not we come up immediately to him; and yet we were not there timely enough to hinder him from receiving a wound with a Javelin in the right arm. This enraged
Scipio, who suffering himself to be transported by the violence of his resentment, and cleaving the crowd with more vehemence: Ha! Caitives (cryed he) Ha Barbarians! and without saying more, he ran upon him that had wounded
Publius, pass'd his sword through his body, dis-engag'd his Father, sav'd his life, as all the world knows, and perform'd those gallant actions which have been so much celebrated since, though he had not yet attain'd to the age of seventeen years.
But when he caus'd
Publius to be carried into his Tent, the Romans whose courage was upheld by the presence of the
Scipio's, were contented onely to bear up against the enemies, and made so weak resistance, that they fought no longer but in their retreat.
Scipio, who was but slightly wounded, betook himself again to his charge; but he could not get himself follow'd; wherupon turning towards me, and some other voluntiers that were with us: Ah!
Laelius (said he to me) is it possible that we have not overcome? Let us go,
Laelius, let us renew the fight, and at least be the last to retreat from it.
He said no more, but beholding
Fabius, Flaminius and
Cato coming, all three slightly wounded, who were retyring themselves, he shew'd them a body of Horse still fighting; wherefore all of them speeding up to see vvho they were, we beheld about forty or fifty Horse vvith
Aemilius, Regulus, and
Servilius, vvho defended themselves couragiously against above three hundred of the enemies. Our succour presently rendred our friends the stronger; so that
[Page 138]
Aemilius, Regulus, and
Servilius being disengaged, we all drew off in good order with the rest of the Army. But because the Enemies had lost a great number of men, and so were not in a condition to attempt any thing upon us; most part of the Volunteers left the Camp to go to
Rome, and likewise a few days after
Scipio and my self went thither, with
Publius who was carried in his Litter, leaving the Conduct of his Forces to his Lieutenant Generals, till
Sempronius came to demand them in his place. The day we arrived at
Rome, I found my father at
Publius's house with an infinite number of Romans who were met to await for
Publius, and to see
Scipio, whose reputation had fill'd the mouthes of the City.
Aemilius, Fabius, and
Marcellus, were there with their Illustrious Fathers. We also found there
Flaminius, Cato, Regulus, Minutius, and
Varro, who was but of obscure extraction, but by the favour of the people, and a pride sufficiently fortunate was grown up to some consideration. In brief, all the Romans of quality excepting
Sulpitius, were this day at
Publius's house, as well they which had lately serv'd under him, as they which had serv'd in
Sicily under
Sempronius. Pyneas King of
Illyria, a young and goodly person,
Perseus Prince of
Macedonia, and some others of like quality who were then at
Rome, repaired thither also, so that the conversation was perfectly handsome: for if on the one side the Romans of elder years spoke of the affairs of the Common-wealth, the younger sort who made a company apart, entertain'd themselves onely with the several interests of love and gallantry, which were occasion'd by the beauties of
Rome. At which time one of
Servius's friends made a complement to
Publius and
Scipio in the name of his friend, who was constrained to defer his visiting them; and as he was going about to tell the reason where we were,
Pyneas began to speak, and addressing to
Scipio; I find (said he to him) something very extraordinary in the reputation which you have gain'd, since the fairest persons of
Rome have not onely a great desire to see you, but an infinite esteem for you already, and are deeply oblig'd to you. For not to mention the fair
Fnlvia, whom
Servilius, whose life you sav'd, is to marry to morrow; you have oblig'd the Illustrious
Aemilia, and the amiable
Attilia, by rescuing their dear brethen,
Aemilius and
Regulus. And the charming
Popyria (added
Flaminius) has perhaps not a less obligation to you for the safety of
Aemilius.
We continued this conversation for some time, by which
Scipio and I came to know the eminentest beauties in Rome, by the relations made of them: after which, being it was already very late, all the company retyr'd. The next morning when we intended to visit our friends, it was told us we should find none of them at home, for that they were all at
Servilius's house, or those adjoyning to his to see
Fulvia pass by, who was to be lead home to him. Wherefore having never seen the like ceremony; we went to see it at a house whose windows opened directly upon the Gate of that of
Servilius.
[Page 139] But because, Madam, 'tis possible you are ignorant in what manner they lead Brides home at Rome; I shall describe to you in few words how we saw
Fulvia brought to
Servilius at Rome.
There were six men attyr'd in a silken habit of Carnation, and blew, because these were the colours of
Servilius and
Fulvia. These six men carried this fair Virgin, who had on her head a Garland of Vervain and flowers, which she ought to have gathered her self. The Chair in which she was carried, was adorn'd vvith a thousand knots of carnation and blew, vvhich ty'd together little vvreaths of flowers. On the corners of the Chair hung large bunches of Myrrhe and Vervain, stuck vvith all sorts of flovvers; there vvas also seen a great Portal at the entry of
Servilius's house, adorn'd vvith an Arch and Pillars of flovvers, vvhich vvas extreamly handsome. But, Madam, perhaps you vvonder that they carry the Bride to her Husbands house at Rome, and no vvhere else. It is easie to satisfie the curiosity you may have to knovv vvhy this custome has bin establisht at Rome.
Yet I shall not give you the account most of the vvorld do concerning it; vvhich is, that 'tis not seemly for Virgins to enter of themselves into the house of their Husbands. For, Madam, I shall not do the injury to the Ladies of other Nations, as to say, that the modesty. I speak of is peculiar to those of Rome, and does not produce the same effect in the hearts of the
Africk and
Spanish. But, Madam, to tell you the verity of the thing, this custome vvas establisht at Rome, only to renevv in all marriages the memory of the first that vvere made there, as you knovv vvithout doubt, by the carrying avvay of the Sabine vvomen. But to return to the rest of the Ceremonies that vvere observed, vvhen
Fulvia vvent home to her happy Lover, you must knovv that
Servilius being accompanied by all his kindred, and excellent musick sounding before him, received his lovely Bride, and divided her hair vvith the point of a Dart.
This Ceremony is done, to shevv that the cares of Marriage ought to be divided; and vvhereas they make use of the point of a Dart, 'tis onely in remembrance of the
Sabines, and to testifie that the Romans when they wanted women, knew how to get them by the dint of Arms. After
Servilius had divided the hair of
Fulvia, as I said, he presented her the keyes of his house, he wished that she were as virtuous as
Tanaquil, and afterwards took her by the hand to conduct her into a great Hall where the Ceremonies were to be compleated.
All these passages I have related to you pleas'd me so highly, that I fix'd my eyes unmoveably upon them, and gave them my whole attention, so that I took no notice that there was a fair and Illustrious Company in the windows opposite to ours.
For the divine
Aemilia was there, with the charming
Papyria, the faire
Attilio, and severall other Ladies of other quality;
[Page 140] of the men that were seen together with these fair persons, was
Aemilius, the King of
Illyria, the Prince of
Macedonia, and
Varro.
But it is moreover remarkable, that though my eyes were otherwhere imploy'd too much to behold the fair company I have mentioned, yet
Scipio's were contrarily so fix'd in beholding them, that he saw nothing at all of the Ceremonies that were done before us. Indeed it must be confess'd, I was dazled my self when I beheld
Aemilia; for you may well judge, Madam, that the lustre of her beauty hindered all the Ladies that were with her, from diverting any part of that admiration which we gave intirely to this divine person.
Aemilia, therefore, being so transcendent as you have seen her, and beyond the power of my Rhetorick to describe, retain'd the eyes of
Scipio in such manner, that this Illustrious Lover (for so I may already term him) did not understand the Ceremony was ended, but by seeing that fair person withdraw from the window, and a servant take away a Cushion of Cloath of Gold, upon which she had lean'd: All the spectators did the same both on
Aemilia's side and ours, so that we necessarily were engag'd by being seen, to salute her, and the noble personages with her, who return'd our civility at the same time. Yet I believe,
Scipio would not have begun the salutation, (his mind was so imploy'd) but when
Aemilia beheld him, she saluted him; and afterwards
Pineas, Perseus, and
Varro, with the Ladies, did the like.
Scipio was indeed very ready to collect himself and re-salute them; but he did it with an action so facile and agreeable, that all the Ladies turned towards the men that wee with them, to tell them (as we understood afterwards) that they knew
Scipio both by his graceful aspect, and that gallant aire which they observed in him when he saluted them; and then added also, that if all the qualities of this young Roman answer'd to those they already remark'd, he had with justice obtained an universal esteem.
While these Ladies were speaking thus, they departed from their Windows, and went into a Hall, where we lost the sight of them; upon which,
Scipio stayed some time at the window, if peradventure he might have another sight of them; but he saw them otherwise then he expected, for within a few moments after, he perceived at the Gate of the house
Aemilia's Mother, who was coming out of it to go to that of
Servilius, with
Varro who led her; and presently after when he had seen her divine daughter appear, he would stay no longer, but went hastily out of the Chamber wherein we were, without calling me. Assoon as I perceived his action, I ran after him, and asking him whither he was going, to
Servilius's house (answered he.) You are very exact (said I to him smiling) to make your visits so speedily. And you little obliging (replyed he) not to make yours, till after all people else. I would not defer it so long (said I) nor yet am I desirous there should be so great a crowding thither. Were it not time at this instant (answered he) to make a
[Page 141] complement to
Servilius, undoubtedly there would not be that crowding thither, which you fear so much. But (said I again to him) hear at least what I have to say. But cannot you speak (interrupted he) as we are going. Pardon me (answered I) and I wish to the Gods, that what you will see at
Servilius's house, may as little hinder you from speaking aright, as I am troubled to speak in going. But (continued I) 'tis possible you will not have all your mind about you there; for according to what I have observ'd, handsome things which you never saw, affect you very sensibly when you first see them. I mean (added I smiling) the brave Ceremonies which we beheld now. And I very vvell understand your subtilty (answered he, endeavouring also to smile) but to shew you that I am capable of doing a great violence upon my self: I will resume also the liberty of my mind, and chase out of it in a manner the fair Idea, where with the gallant Ceremony you mean, has unquestionably filled my imagination
You shall do very well (replyed I) if you intend to preserve the esteem which the persons we are going to see have already conceived of you. Well,
Laelius, (said he, as he was entering into the house of
Servilius) observe what power I have over my self. And in ending these words, he indeed resum'd that freedom of Action and spirit, which he was unpossess'd of a few moments before; and I may with truth affirm, that notwithstanding the great multitude in the Hall of
Servilius; Scipio at his entrance drew the eyes of every one upon himself, and perhaps the esteem and admiration. He went immediately to make his Complement to
Servilius, and to
Fulvia, and the principal of her kindred, and having acquitted himself with great gallantry, went to that place of the Hall where the Ladies were; but he was amazed to behold
Aemilia yet more transcendently beautiful then she seem'd to him before. For you must know, Madam, in these sort of Feasts, they use to shut up all the avenues of day-light, into the place where the Assembly is, and then light up five Torches in honour of the five principal Deities which are invoked in Marriages, and an infinite number of Lamps in honour of the lesser Deities, so that this kind of light being ordinarily favourable to beauty, and moreover
Aemilia having a certain engaging sweetness which is not discernable at distance; and all this joyn'd with the goodliness of her stature, and the gentle air of her carriage, almost made
Scipio lose the resolution which he had taken; besides that he fancied this fair person, who seeing him approach rise presently up, as all the rest also did, had saluted him after a more civil and more obliging manner. But he renewed his resolutions, both because I was present, and he had engag'd to me to keep his mind free, or rather because
Aemilia was present, before whom he would not appear perplext, especially in this first conversation.
So that after some agreeable discourses concerning the Ceremonies of Marriage, which was a subject that at that time offered it
[Page 142] self,
Emilia told
Scipio, that he was arrived at
Rome at a very good time to see this Festival, and then demanded of him whether he accounted to not very handsome. I protest to you, madam (answered he) I never saw any thing so handsome, as what I have seen in this Festival. But for that there are different sorts of handsomness, and different humours, (said
Papyria to him) you must tell us with vvhat you vvere best pleas'd, vvhether with the comliness of the persons, or the musick, or the gallantry of attire, to the end vve may know vvhether you have had the same gust vvith
Emilia, or
Attilia, or my self.
Scipio being a perfectly honourable personage (said
Emilia) vvill not be loath to confess that he judg'd
Fulvia the handsomest thing vvhich he beheld. Pardon me, Madam, (ansvvered he) if presume to contradict you, and assure you, that
Fulvia vvas not the handsomest thing vvhich I beheld.
Scipio has reason (said
Attilia) not to be much affected vvith the beauty of a Lady, (because he sees fair ones every day) as vvith the pompe of a Festival vvhich he never savv before. But that is not it, Madam, (ansvvered he) vvhich most affected me. It must needs be then (said
Papyria) that I have gained the cause, since there remains no other part to take but that of the Musick. Verily, Madam, (answered he) you have as little gain'd the cause; for that which pleased me most, was neither the Musick, nor the Ornaments, nor
Fulvia, but something infinitely above them all. It is easie then to conjecture it (said
Aemilia) for since it was neither of those three things, and there was nothing surprisingly handsome besides, it must be a certain pleasingness that arises from them altogether, which charms more then any one of them is able to do severally. But, Madam, (answered he) as I was not very intent to behold them severally, it is difficult I should have bin able to gust that united pleasingness you speak of.
Scipio being very ingenious (said
Aemilia) it is not to be wonder'd, if he does not declare himself; for in so doing, he would disoblige two Ladies, and oblige but one. But,
Aemilia, (answered he) be pleas'd not to make me so ingenious; and believe, I would have ingeniously confest the thing, if it had been mention'd what really most pleased me. For my part, (said
Aemilia) I am in despair to conjecture it. I believe you would be much troubled to do it (answered he) for I am confident, Madam (added he subtilly) you could not see what I beheld most handsome. I was the onely person that well understood the sense of these last words of
Scipio: for
Pineas began to speak at this time, and
Persens and my self being afterwards mixed in the conversation, it became in a manner general, and yet very agreeable and pleasant. In the mean while,
Varro was speaking to
Aemilia's Mother with very much heat, so that we were a long time at
Servilius's house; though these kind of visits use to be generally of no great length, by reason of the throng which always happens in such occasions.
But at length, after
Claudia had conferr'd some time with
Varro,
[Page 143] she arose to go forth, being followed by all our fair company; but as I happened to be sufficiently near her, I observed
Varro retain'd her by the Robe as she was rising, and heard him say these words to her with passion: Alas! I beseech you, Madam, answer me precisely before you go.
The matter being very important (answered she, bowing down to him) you must give me leave to consult about it with the persons concern'd: after which she arose and went forth, as I told you. The amorous
Scipio would certainly have gone forth with her incomparable daughter, if I had not with-held him and constain'd him to content himself with making a profound to
Claudia, and the persons that went with her, and only to follow the divine
Aemilia with his eyes.
Scipio could not continue there a moment after this fair person was gone, but was absolutely bent to go away too, and told me with some seeming trouble our visite had continued long enough, and we might well go forth now, since all the world had done so already. Yet, I see (answered I) the company is still good; nevertheless I will do what ever you please, and I will go (added I smiling) whither you will command me, since the most lovely person of the world is no longer here. I will not tell you a thing which all the world knows (replyed he, as we were going forth). I shall then go learn (said I, smiling again) which no person knows yet, which is unquestionably that you love
Aemilia more then all the persons that ever you have seen before. Alas!
Laelius (answered he) I beseech you do not smile when you speak of such matters. I shall do what you please (replyed I) provided you do not require me to sigh; for I should be much troubled to obey you.
And is there any cause of sadness in what I have seen (answered I, taking my way towards the
Tybor, on whose banks we were going to walk) and ought not I to be ravisht with joy, that
Scipio, who without flattery, is the goodliest person of all our Romans, is become amorous of
Aemilia, who unquestionably transcends all the beauties of
Rome? What then do you find your self,
Scipio, that can give you discontent! Is there not an equality between you in point of greatness, of birth and riches? and if
Aemilia has beauty, wit and virtue; does not all the world speak of your rare accomplishment? and in fine, is there any reasonable person in
Rome, that would not make vows to see
Scipio and
Aemilia conjoyn'd together, and the powerful Houses of
Cornelii, and the
Aemilii allied?
Alas,
Laelius (answered he sighing) you consider not what you say, or else little understand the divine
Aemilia. How can you think,
Laelius (continued he with the same air) that a reasonable man ought to pretend to
Emilia? Alas!
Laelius, all is below this divine person; and you would certainly be of my opinion, if you had well considered what she is, if you had taken notice of her dazling beauty, if you had observed her wit which is both gallant and modest;
[Page 144] and lastly, if you had remark'd a certain charm in her above all
I have mentioned, which I observ'd my self, but am unable to express. Yes,
Laelius, if you had admir'd all these things as I did, you would acknowledg that
Aemilia, the adorable
Aemilia, ought to look upon the pretensions of the most worthy person in the world as an insufferable insolence. You are transported too far (said I to him) for how Illustrious and fair soever
Aemilia be, she will one day render some man happy; and you never yet saw any person so absutely elevated above all others, but there has bin found a match for her in the world. And you have also never seen (in
[...]errupted he passionately) any person comparable to
Aemilia; so that you cannot here infer, as they do ordinarily in the like cases, where you are speaking of a divine person who is so farre above all that is handsome besides in the world.
Scipio pronounced these words inspired to him by his passion, with such violence, that I was strangely amazed his passion should be so strong in its beginning; wherefore desiring to moderate his transports, I indeavoured to give him hope, conceiving no other passion so proper as that to calm the violence of love. But as I was representing to him, that I saw no reason he had to frame occasions of trouble and inquietude to himself, and that I could not discern what obstacles could intervene to his happinesse, and was by several arguments indeavouring to compose his mind in quiet; we beheld some young persons of quality approching towards us, which were,
Fabius, Flaminius, Marcellus, and
Regulus. Being united, the conversation amongst us was at first very agreeable, but it was incomparably more a few moments after; for having met
Cato, who was walking alone upon the banck of
Tyber, we employ'd our rallery against him upon a hundred occasions at once to puzzle him; and he having a very stiffe and impetuous wit, the conversation became exreamly divertising.
But for that our discourse at that time is of no necessity to the sequel of my story, I conceive it not material to detain you with the several subjects of our conversation. But, to proceed, I must tell you, that all being parted at convenient time,
Scipio and I went to the Palace of
Publius, his Father, where I was constrained to Sup. Which we had scarce done, but a slave of
Publius's came to whisper me in the ear, desiring me to take the pains to descend down into the low Hall where
Minutius attended to speak with me concerning an affair of importance. Being I lived in an absolute liberty in
Publius's house, I descended forthwith without being obliged to any Ceremony; and there I found
Minutius, who approaching towards me, desired my pardon for his coming to incommodate me at such an hour.
But since 'tis for a friend (proceeded he) that I am come to beseech a favour, I conceive I may do it with the more confidence, and especially from
Laelius, who so well understands all the dearness of friendship. But not to lose time (added he;) I must tell you
[Page 145] in few words that
Varro is infinitely amorous of
Aemilia, and that I newly received this Ticket from him which you may please to read. At which words he presented me one, in which I was much surpriz'd to read these words.
THis day at
Servilius's house, I discovered new charmes in
Aemilia, which have redoubled the violence of my passions; yet
Claudia, with whom I was very instant, would promise me nothing. Judge therefore in what a condition I am; but to contribute towards one more happy, I beseech you strengthen our party on your side with as many friends as you can engage in it, the end
Lucius and
Claudia may grant that to the mediations of a great part of
Rome, which they would certainly refuse to the requests of
Varro, and indeed which
Varro himself can never obtain from the condescention of
Aemilia.
If I was surpriz'd at the beginning of
Minutius's discourse, I was extreamly astonish'd when I had read this Ticket; so that
Minutius taking this time to tell me what he had designed to communicate to me, he entreated me to embrace the party of
Varro, and to engage
Scipio in it too. For though I have not hitherto done
Scipio or you any service (continued he) and there be no great intimacie between us; yet I hope you will not refuse what I request of you, since no exception can be taken against a Caball, the design of which is onely to bring about a marriage. I have so little inclination for all sorts of Cabals in general (answered I) that you may please to excuse me if I ingage not in yours: besides, that the end you design, is so different from the means you would use to attain it, that I think your project will be unsuccessful. Moreover, all that shall contribute towards bringing to pass this affair by the way you would take, will not onely highly disoblige the whole family of the
Aemilii, but they will also contribute to the unhappinesse of
Varro; for indeed he would be in eternal punishment to have alwayes a fair person in his eyes, whom himself had rendered unhappy, and gain'd by force (as I may so speak) in stead of indeavouring to affect her heart by his submissions, respects and services. But since 'tis your desire I should mention it to
Scipio, (added I) I promise you to acquaint my friend this night with what I understand from you, and to let you know in the morning our last resolution. In the mean time,
Minutius, be confident I shall not reveal your secret to any whatsoever but
Scipio. Because it is unmeet (answered he) to go about to force the sentiments of others, I cannot take it ill that you disapprove ours; and provided, you religiously observe the promise you have made me, beyond which you are not obliged, I have no right to pretend to more. Neverthelesse (added he craftily) one of these two things must be effected; either
[Page 146] that you gain
Scipio, and be both of you of our Cabal; or that I prevail upon the mind of
Varro, so as to quit his enterprise. The last of the two (answered I) is assuredly more easie and equitable then that which you desire of me; but however, I keep my self to my promise, which is to speak of your affair to
Scipio, and to none else. I had no sooner ended these words, but
Miuntius, who apparantly intended to go to other Houses, took his leave of me, and immediately after his departure, I went to
Scipio, and lead him to his Chamber; where assoon as we were entered, I began to tell him of this new adventure, but without the least sign of wondering at it, to the end he might not apprehend it as a matter of any great moment. But it did not fall out accordingly; for I had no sooner related to him the discourse I had had with
Minutius, and the substance of
Varro's Letter; but he testifi'd an extream trouble and amazement at it.
Alas!
Laelius (cryed he) how much were you deceiv'd, when you conceiv'd there were no obstacles to my happiness. And I am unhappy (added he) since in the same day that I am become amorous, the dearest of my friends must come and tell me I have a Rival, and that a formidable Rival too, since he designs to engage a part of
Rome to act for his interests. If your passion permitted you to reason aright (answered
I) you would not apprehend the matter as you do, nor look upon
Varro as a formidable Rival, who takes so unpromising a course to advantage his pretensions. What know you▪
Laelius (interrupted he) but some strange fate may make
Varro conquer by a way not ordinary, a person who is so little so? Just Gods! (cryed I) what preposterous thoughts are these of yours! Why do not you instead of reasoning so perversly, reflect rather upon
Varro's Letter, which will unquestionably compose your mind?
And in truth (continued I) do not you see
Claudia would promise your Rival nothing, and that
Varro has no hopes from the favourable inclinations of
Aemilia? But you do not say (answered he) that
Claudia has not refus'd my Rival any thing, & in such occasions as these, who so refuses nothing, seems to promise all. If you were not strangely prejudic'd (replyed I) you would say that in these occasions, who so promises nothing, seems to refuse all. And it was never seen that a man was roughly rejected, and his alliance but weakly refused. But on the contrary, there is alwayes some temperament us'd in the matter; as sometimes they tell you, the person you desire is too young: othertimes, they speak of an other match from which she is not yet wholly dis-engag'd; and in brief, they find out a hundred pretexts which are not disobliging to refuse you what you desire. But you cannot say (answered he) that
Claudia has used any such like pretext. No more can you (interrupted I) that she has not, or that she has bin favourable to a man who sees himself constrain'd to have recourse to the last remedies; and after all, you see your Rival declares expresly, he can hope nothing
[Page 147] from the favour of his Mistress; what reason therefore have you to afflict your self? This indeed makes not much to my torment (answered he) but yet I apprehend not so much sweetness therein as you do; for since
Varro, who is infinitely ingenious, and has made a thousand conversations with
Aemilia, judges nothing to be expected from her favour, what can
Scipio hope? How? (interrupted I) would you that
Varro should have made any impression upon the heart of
Aemilia? or would you have me make your Panegyrick, and say that
Scipio may obtain that which
Varro has fail'd of?
Ah! cruel friend, (cryed he) why do you use such perplexing expressions? Because (answered I) you imploy your wit onely to frame torments to your self, and complain that 'twas your friend who advertis'd you that you had a Rival, instead of rendring thanks to the Gods for the discovery made to you of a contrivance against your Mistress. Quiet your mind therefore, I beseech you, and instead of busying your self about fancies to increase your trouble, let us consider what answer we must give
Minutius. These will be no difficulty in giving him an answer (said
Scipio.) For we have nothing to do but to break his design, which equally strikes both at virtue and
Aemimila. But that which I find a little perplexing is, that I am unresolved whether I ought to advertise
Emilia of it, or whether, without engaging for in the affair, I ought to endeavour to perswade
Varro to desist from his enterprise; or in case he resolve to prosecute it, to oppose him with my friends, and either to be-break it, or or dye generously.
But I believe, (added he) this last course will be that I must follow; for I conceive we ought not to divulge a thing told us in secret, before having endeavour'd to redress'd it, and moreover, I believe it were better to serve
Emilia without bringing her parents into danger, whether we serve her by hidde
[...] means, or by using open force. I am of your opinion (answered I) although I know if we should chance to perish in our enterprise, we should be blam'd for not having rendred our party stronger, by discovering the matter to the persons concern'd. But for that the persons who would blame us in such manner, are certainly onely such people as never judge of things but by the events; we ought as little to stand upon the gaining of their esteem, as the fore-seeing what may happen. For after all, great prudence ought not in my jugdment to be the grand virtue of young persons. Wherefore without further debate, let us expect to take the best expedients we can to morrow morning, when we come to confer with
Minutius, and learn his utmost resolutions. In the mean time (added he) it is requisite for us to betake our selves to our lodgings; and I would have you consider when you are at your rest, whether, if you have a Rival, you ought to fear the power of his birth and his virtue; and ending these words, I went forth out of his Chamber without expecting his answer, and retyr'd into my ovvn, vvhere I pass'd the night vvith
[Page 148] more quiet then
Scipio. The next morning assoon as it was day, he came into my Chamber, and being seated upon my Bed-side, would not at first speak concerning
Aemilia, but began to set upon me for my sloathfulness.
I apprehended the matter so pleasantly, that indeed it inspired me with cheerfulness; so that looking towards him, you believe without doubt (said I) 'tis very late, because perhaps 'tis a long time you wak'd. But do not deceive your self, and think not 'tis the Sun which causes you to rise so early, that makes it day to us. Alas! I beseech you (answered he) let us discourse seriously. I do so (replyed I, affecting to seem serious) and for confirmation of what I say, I will prove that in good Morality, you are injurious in waking me, and that a friend ought not like a Mistress, disturbe the rest of a person that loves him.
You are so little serious this morning,
Laelius (said he) that I know not well what to say to to you. And you so much (answered I) that I know not well what course to take to make you lay aside your serious humour. Provided (replyed he) you do not require me to discard that which you think makes me serious; I find my self incli
[...]nable to satisfie you, and to regulate my sentiments as you desire. But,
Laelius, require nothing further; and not imagine as people ordinarily do, that you ought to oppose a passion that is growing in the breast of a friend, and that to encourage it, would be like giving weapons to one that is frantick. For, in brief,
Laelius, I declare to you, that
Aemilia, the adorable
Aemilia, shall alwayes raign absolutely in my heart, and that I will wear during my life, the bonds of hers which I find upon me; for they seem to me so lovely, so charming and precious, that I esteem them above all the Crowns in the world. Ah! dear friend (added he) I little understand, and you are still ignorant, wherein consists a true and lively pleasure; since you have not yet resented those motions of tenderness which a fair person excites in our hearts when she subdues them to her dominion; since you have not resented that lively joy, nor those sweet fears which acompanie the love and respect of a passionte heart; and in brief, since you know not that that which is called inquietude, melancholly and musing in a Lover, has a thousand charmes above those which men at libertie stile solid pleasures.
This subject, Madam, seem'd so pleasing and copious to
Scipio, that he would further have pursu'd his discourse, had not one com
[...] to give us notice that
Minutius desired to see us. As soon as he was come into our Chamber, and the civilities were pass'd on all sides; he at first beheld us as if he intended to read our resolutions in our countenances; and presently after; what may I expect you will do,
Scipio, and
Laelius (said he) in this affair? We will do all (answered
Scipio, that virtue requires us to do; that is, neither
Laelius nor
Scipio will engage in a partie against one of the most illustrious Houses of
Rome; and you must either perswade
Varro to make use
[Page 149] of his for the benefit of the Common-wealth, or unloose your self from his interests, to joyn with persons of none but honourable intententions. For,
Minutius (continued he) you were a Roman before you were
Varro's friend, and so you are oblig'd to prefer the interests of
Rome before those of your friend, and even to oppose any wha
[...]soever that goes about to disturb the publique Peace and commit violences in the City. What you say, is so rational (answered
Minutius) that it would be injustice not to follow your sentiments, and therefore I engage my word to you, that
Varro shall serve himself of other means to attain the happiness he aspires too. These last words caus'd
Scipio to blush, which yet was not observ'd by
Minutius; for at the same time he was bethinking handsomely to change the matter of the conversation, and to speak no more of a business which was not very advantageous to his friend. And consequently, he fell to speak of many persons of quality whose humours he describ'd to us; he also inform'd us of the interests of gallantry which he had observ'd in severall parts of the City, and all this with so much wit and freedom of mind, that we believ'd he was no longer in suspence and unsatisfi'd. After which
Minutius left us to go to
Publius, and I prepar'd my self to go to my father, though
Scipio very urgently oppos'd it, and would not permit me till I had promised to attend for him there, to go and pass the afternoon with
Aemilia, to whose house accordingly we went, where the conversation was indeed very agreeable.
'Tis true,
Scipio spoke lesser then he was accustom'd; for he fix'd his eyes so constanly in beholding
Aemilia, and his countenance represented so many tokens of an inward joy which he resented, that though I had not known the secret of his heart, yet I should have possibly suspected something extraordinary by his aspect. Besides, he appear'd so satisfi'd, that I have since wonder'd it was not then observ'd he was amorous; for I believe, nothing but the presence of the person beloved could cause so lively a joy. Not but that his attention and his joy was often intterrupted by a hundred things spoken to his advantage, and of which he was desirous to break off the continuance, which was a displeasure that befell him at severall times; for though
Aemilia and the persons that were with her, understood the world perfectly, and were not ignorant, that 'tis something troublesome in a companie, when great praises are given to a person that is present; yet they thought themselves powerfully constain'd to extol
Scipio, both for that his brave actions were extreamly celebrated every where, and because they had bin very advantageous to most part of the persons of qualitie in
Rome. Indeed
Scipio was not so much perplex'd, as he would have bin, if
Aemilia, Fabius, Cato and
Regulus, had bin that day with
Aemilia, they having bin witnesses of his glorie, and importunately oblig'd to him. But for that they were gone into the Country, to a House of
Papyrius's. Scipio was without doubt delivered from a part of his trouble;
[Page 150] and that which hindered him from resenting greater disgust, at what he heard was the civility of
Aemilia, and some gentle and obliging words which that fair person express'd concerning him, in mentioning his preserving and rescuing
Aemilius: So true is it, that the joy which the person belov'd excites, is pure and extreamly sensible.
At our departure from thence, I was also constain'd to accompanie
Scipio this night to the house of his father
Publius, that I might here the reflexions upon the fore-past afternoon: But our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of his young brother, whom
Publius had sent for from
Greece; so that we could not have time then to speak of
Aemilia. But, Madam, admire I beseech you, the capriciousness of fortune. The young
Scipio seeming a lovely and sprightly youth, I began to set upon him, and told him the Ladies and the Carthaginians would have no great cause to be glad of his arrival. For if I be not deceived, (continued I) you have an aspect that promises you will be undoubtedly both in Love and and War. As for War (answered he) I shall betake my self to that assoon as I can; for I conceive at first, there is no more required then to obey: But for Love, I shall defend my self from it a long time; for besides that, 'tis a troublesome thing to be intangled in, I think I am yet to seek how to manage it. The matter is not so hard as you believe (replyed I) smiling) for love has a Torch to give light to those that acknowledge his Empire. That Torch (answered he) gives light to few persons; for I have seen this day in the house of
Papyrius by which I pass'd, two friends of yours, who have great endowments of wit and capacity, and yet have need of the light you speak of; they were
Fabius and
Cato, of which the first is in love, and the other is his Confident, But it was reported
Fabius was so wise a Lover, that he never appeared passionate, and yet he was charg'd this morning for having suffer'd the secret of his heart to be known at
Papyrius's house, without ever having given the least intimation of it to
Aemilia, who is the person he loves
And as for
Cato, he was sufficiently play'd upon with rallery, for being the confident of a passion which he condemns, and intermedling in the carrying on of an affair of which he understands not the perplexities and the pleasure; and that kind of address which is only learnt by experience. And indeed he declar'd that he had no genius for things of this nature; but he believ'd he might promote the success by mediating with
Lucius, to accord the marriage of
Fabius and
Aemilia. For marriage (added he) being an affair, and that very important, I conceive I should have done no dis-service by intermedling in it. Thus,
Laelius (proceeded he) you see in what manner this Torch gives light, or rather how love oftner lends lovers his fillet to bind them, then the light you speak of to direct them.
Whilst the young
Scipio was speaking thus, his Ilustrious Brother
[Page 149] turn'd away his head, that he might not discover the commotion of his countenance. But at length, desirous to understand the matter more fully: How? brother (said he) is
Fabius amorous of
Aemilia? Yes, brother (answered he) and if you have any interest in the case, you may direct your course accordingly. As
Scipio was going to reply,
Publius enter'd the Chamber, so that the discourse was wholly broken off; &
Publius began to express himself in much tenderness to his young Son, who did the same with testimony of respect and reverence to his father. A little time after, my father came to see the brother of my illustrious friend, and taking me away home with him,
Scipio was depriv'd of the hope he had to tell me his sentiments upon what his brother had related of
Fabius's love.
The next day indeed he came to me after dinner, when the Ceremony of an Alliance made between our Republick and
Pineas, King of
Illyria, was to be seen in the Capitol that day; yet we must omit that to go see
Aemilia. But going at night to
Publius's house, whither
Scipio made me to accompany him, we learnt but too many particularities; for
Publius told us with a satisfi'd and smiling countenance, that
Illyria was become tributary to
Rome. And I wish (continued he) you had seen the Ceremony of the Alliance we have made with
Pineas. It is to be wondered (said I to him) that a Prince of such accomplishments and courage should do what you have told us.
Lucius has so great a power over his mind (answered he) that he could have made him do other things then this. How? My Lord (said
Scipio) has
Pyneas made this Alliance so advantageous to
Rome onely by the influence of
Lucius? There is nothing more certain (answered he) and I shall amaze you more when I have recounted you what passed in the Capitol not above an hour a go. Know then (continued he) that after the ceremonies were ended,
Pyneas desired
Lucius and me to stay till all the crowd was gone; where being without Witnesses,
Pyneas walked some time with us without speaking, and at length stopping to consider that admirable stature of
Romulus, which stands at the end of the great Hall of the Capitol, he read the Inscription upon the Pedestal, upon which he blushed and sigh'd, and then beholding us, with an air sufficiently sad; My Lords, (said he to us) do not believe I have done what you have seen out of weakness or timerousness; 'tis a more noble inducement that makes me to act so, and have not made this transaction but onely because—he stopt after these few words; and then resuming his discourse. Ah, My Lords (pursued he) I know not well what I say, but my hand more bold then my tongue, shall better express to you the sentiments of
Pyneas, & let you know for what reason he makes himself tributary to the Romans. And you shall see with this illustrious witness (proceeded he, addressing to
Lucius, and pointing to me) whether the manner in which I have acted, be unworthy either of
Lucius or
Pyneas. Ending these words, he drew a Pastil out of his sleeve, and returning again to the stature of
Romulus, writ something under that which he
[Page 150] had read; after which again addressing to
Lucius, Read, My Lord (said he to him) read, and you you will see that
Pyneas is more capable of elevation then of lownesse.
After these words, he intimated to us, that he could no longer be there with us; so that after he was gone forth, we approacht the Statue, and read with surpize what the King of
Illyria had written. You know there are under that admirable statue four Verses, which several Nations judge too haughty; yet their loftiness is in some measure pardonable, being grounded upon certain predictions which have been made to the advantage of
Rome. But the better to make you comprehend how ingenious the manner was wherewith
Pyneas express'd his sentiments, in which are altogether remarkable the handsomness of his wit, the greatness of his courage, and the violence of his love, I must put you in mind that the four Verses I speak of, and which seem to be spoken by
Romulus, are conceiv'd in these termes:
My City shall rule over Land and Sea,
And fill all parts with awe;
And all the Cities of the world one day
Shall hence receive their law.
The King of
Illyria, to shew that he had onely done that in reference to his love which we had lately seen transacted, and that so haughty an Inscription had not daunted him, writ these four Verses under those that I now repeat.
Although it should rule over Land or Sea,
And fill all parts with awe,
Saw I not there the fairest eyes i' th'world,
I'de not receive her law.
You may well judge that
Pyneas understands here only the fair
Aemilia, for he daily resorts to her, as
Lucius told me since; and in brief, 'tis out of respect to
Lucius, that he has made this Alliance so highly to the advantage of the Commonwealth; so that
Lucius testifi'd to me that he had a great obligation to the King of
Illyria, and that he found some inclination in himself to give him his daughter, provided he would bring a powerful succour into
Italy. How? My Lord (answer'd I) is it possible
Lucius can resolve to marry so fair a person out of
Rome? It appears,
Laelius (interrupted he) that you are still a young Roman; that is, that you have courage indeed, but not yet a compleat soul, since you are capable of wondering a man should marry a fair and dear daughter into a forrain Country, and sacrifice her to the interest of his Country.
As he ended these words, and it was already late, we all retyr'd, and
Scipio was deliver'd from the trouble of hearing the continuation of so cruel a discourse. And after having sup, he made a reverence to
Publius, and ascended up to his Chamber, pretending to have some business to do there. You may judge, Madam, that
[Page 153] I did not desert him, and that he did not fail immediately to tell me all his sentiments. Alas!
Laelius (said he to me) I knew I should meet with more obstacles then you imagin'd. But (added he with very great sadness) I could never have believ'd it possible, things should conspire so strangely to render me the unhappiest man of the world. Was ever any thing heard or seen more cruel in the beginning of a passion? 'Tis but three dayes (proceeded he) since I saw the adorable
Aemilia, three dayes since I began to adore her: but in these three days, the dearest of my friends has informed me that
Varro is my Rival,
Varro, who is the favourite of the people, and who by some fortunate rashness may cause an obstacle to my happiness. Yesterday I was with
Aemilia, and I beheld that divine person more fair and charming, then she had before appeared to me; my passion received new vigour, and I fastned my chains my self; but upon my leaving that admirable person, it fell out that my dear brother advertis'd me
Fabius was my Rival▪
Fabius, whose birth and merit place him above
Varro. But this is not all; my father, who has an infinite tenderness for me, being yet nearer then a brother, and dearer then a friend, tells me to day I have a Rival more to be fear'd then
Varro and
Fabius; as if fate had ordered the persons that are dearest to me, should bring me the adventures which are most troublesome and tormenting. For in truth,
Laelius, I see
Pyneas is a goodly personage, I know he is indued with wit, and I have heard say, he has very much courage too, and a soul full of high and noble sentiments; But yet I see above all that I have mentioned, that he makes all things submit to his passion, and gives a fair proof of it, such as can be given onely by Kings, and those very amorous. But,
Scipio (said I to him) do you know that the King of
Illyria loves
Aemilia, and that 'tis she possitively that he meams in his Verses? Can you doubt it?
Laelius (interrupted he) and could
Pyneus better express himself then by mentioning the fairest eyes in the world? besides, could he have given for any person but
Aemilia so important a proof of his love? Would he have addressed to
Lucius in doing all the passages we have heard my father relate? No, no,
Laelius, it must not be doubted, and I see clearly enough, my hard fate raises me up new Rivals every day, and new obstacles. Not that these Rivals and obstacles can make me renounce the love I have; but on the contrary, I feel it augments in my heart, and presages I shal do things which perhaps my Rivals will not. In the mean time, to neglect nothing, it is requisite we retire, and either of us seek ou
[...] means which may make me prosperous in that which I design; to the end to morrow morning, according to your sentiments, or my own, I may resolve what course to take to surmount whatever shall oppose it self to my happiness.
The End of the First Book.
The Grand SCIPIO.
PART II.
BOOK II.
UPon the point of day-break,
Scipïo entered into my Chamber, and having wak'd me, Well,
Laelius (said he to me) I have Rivals, but I resolve these Rivals shall serve to augment my glory; I will comport my self with an air that perhaps shall surpass theirs, and leaving them to their ordinary methods of Courtship, I will do things which assuredly shall not be unworthy the esteem of the Illustrious
Aemilia. You will do well (answered I) in doing the rare things you speak of, but perhaps you will not do ill in serving your self of those ordinary methods of acting with a Mistress, which you leave to your Rivals. How?
Laelius (interrupted he) should I serve the adorable
Aemilia as they ordinarily serve Ladies? Ah!
Laelius—Ah!
Scipio (interrupted I) you have not all your soul about you this morning; for should
Aemilia be more adorable then she is, were it fit to be less diligent, or less complacential? Would you court her with fewer blandishments? would you offer her less incense? In a word, would you take less care to please her? You know,
Laelius (answered he) I would not fail in any particular whatsoever: But yet I am desirous to render
Aemilia some important service, before I take all those little cares you speak of▪ I am not of your opinion (said I to him;) and if I were a Lover, I should choose rather to begin with those little diligences, then your grand
[Page 156] services. For those assiduous conversations, those blandishments and complacencies; and in brief, all those little diligences insinuate much more, and enter insensibly into the memorie, and likewise the heart of the person belov'd. And in case she should become so warie as to stand upon her guard, yet she will soon despond to make a continual resistance. Besides, we hourly find occasions to render these small offices I speak of, whereas the opportunities of glorious actions be rarely offer'd, there is not the like advantage of insinuating into the affections.
And moreover, the lustre of them serves as an excitement to a Ladie to put her self in a posture to resist an invasion; yea, I pass further, and think a Lady has ground to suspect that a man who exploits a grand action, acts more for his own glory then for the interest of the person lov'd. So that,
Scipio, if you will believe me, you shall take all occasions whatsoever to render service to
Aemilia, without affecting onely to do great and glorious things; the observance of which may be heavy and incommodious to a fair person, upon whose heart you have yet made no impression, and who perhaps may have some kind of discontent to see her self on a suddain little over-oblig'd. You have reason,
Laelius (answered he) and if I reason'd at first in such manner, it was onely a certain ardor I am sensible of which transports me; and for that I consider'd my Rivals as so many obstacles to my heaviness, I propos'd to my self at first onely generous attempts to surpass theirs, and fill'd my mind with glorious enterprises. But,
Laelius (added he) I shall follow your sentiment, and alwaies act with
Aemilia according to the best advantages to win upon her mind, not daring yet to pretend (continued he, embracing me) to have effected her illustrious heart. And indeed, Madam,
Scipio afterwards acted in such a manner, that he surpassed his Rivals in all respects.
He was more magnificent then the King of
Illyria, in Attire, Attendants, and Horses, and all parts of gallantry at
Rome; he appear'd before
Aemilia more prudent then
Fabius, and even with this difference, that it seem'd the wisdom of
Scipio was an effect of the respect he had for that fair person, whereas that of
Fabius appear'd rather an effect of his temper. But besides all his gallantry and wisdom, he was more fierce then
Varro, when it behoov'd him to be so; and with this difference also, that the fierceness of
Varro appear'd something insolent, but that of the Illustrious
Scipio had nothing in it but what was lovely and heroical. So that these accomplishments together, joyn'd with the goodliness of his person, and the handsomness of his wit, made
Scipio esteem'd above all other honourable persons at
Rome, and
Aemilia her self inclin'd to treat him in a more civil and obliging manner then all the rest that usually convers'd with her.
Scipio enjoy'd these contentments with an extream pleasure, though sometimes he resented strange inquietudes; for the same beauty which fill'd him with joy, a few moments after gave him
[Page 157] an extream sadness, because he lookt upon it as a thing so much above the pretensions of men, that he not onely da
[...]'d not to mention his passion to her, but scarce dar'd to think he ought to love her with hope of being endur'd, when she came to discover the motions of his soul. So that this mixture of joy and inquietude which he resen
[...]ted every moment, began to alter his health, in which all the world so much concern'd themselves, that some came to me every day to inquire the cause of it. Even
Aemilia, who about this time was pleas'd to honour me with some place in her friendship, very obligingly demanded of me concerning it, grounding her particular interest upon the general, and upon the obligation she had to
Scipio, as the sister of
Aemilius.
But however, Madam, this admirable person had so great a goodness, and seem'd to me oft-times more satisfi'd and fair in the presence of
Scipio, yet neither presum'd he to mention his passion to her nor I, as much friend as I was to him, to open my mouth to discover it to her; such a profound respect did she, though young and fair, strike upon all that approacht her. And this respect enclosing in
Scipio's heart all the flames that
Aemilia's beauty had excited there, this Illustrious love became much more passionate, and was afterwards
[...]eis'd with a kind of languishing, that made me apprehend much fear and trouble. Yet he had some consolation in this indisposedness; for
Aemilia happen'd on a suddain to treat
Varro with such contempt, that
Scipio had the satisfaction of seeing one of his▪ Rivals ill treated, and he of them who had apparently discovered to
Aemilia the inclinations of his soul, it not being possibly one of
Varro's humour; that is, fierce, turbulent, and impatient, should have conceal'd violent passion in his breast out of respect, and as little to be thought
Aemilia, who never acts but very judiciously, should begin to treat
Varro unfavourably, without leaving new cause to do so. It is true, she had one afterwards very notorious and remarkable, as you shall instantly hear. For intelligence coming to
Rome, that
Sempronius would soon be in a posture to march with his Forces against
Hannibal, Pyneas, who had long before sent to make levies in
Illyria, departed from
Rome, with
Lucius and
Aemilius, to see in what condition the forces were that were rais'd, which they understood were upon the Frontiers. Upon which those of the King of
Illyria's Rivals that knew his design, were extramly perplext at it. And the next day after their going,
Scipio, Servilius, Varro, Minutius, and my self, were at
Aemilia's house, with
Fulvia and
Attilia also, where we began to speak concerning Marriages and Alliances, the presence of
Servilius and
Fulvia, and the departure of
Pyneas, furnishing us the occasion. Yet I conceive (said I, after some other discourse)
Servilius ought to speak with pleasure of such matters as these.
I am of your opinion (answered
Varro) since having married a person whom he loves, the subject we are speaking of, ought to be matter of joy to him. You ought also add (replyed I) that he is
[Page 158] beloved by her, for his amiable bride does not disown it.
Fulvia blusht a little at these words, and as she was going to speak something,
Varro prevented her, and said, he did not add that expression of mine, because he judg'd it needless. For in my judgment (continued he) a man is happy when he marries a fair person whom he loves, though he be not belov'd by her again. Can you think,
Varro, (cry'd
Scipio) a man can receive contentment in marrying a person by whom he is not belov'd? Change your mind, I beseech you, and be not peremptory in maintaining an opinion which cannot be admitted.
I know not whether it will be received by a great part of the world (answered he) but I know well, that such as are capable of a certain delicacy of pleasure which I apprehend, will not onely be of my opinion, but will find more satisfaction in not being lov'd by a fair person whom they marry, then if they were affected by her with the highest ardor. This concerns you, Ladies, more then us (said
Servilius) therefore I beseech you answer for your selves. I conceive then, said
Emilia, with a scornful accent) that
Varro speaks very well; for in expressing his sentiments thus, he handsomely ingages the world not to bring him in danger of the unhappiness to be beloved. Provided I may be so by you, Madam, (answered
Varro, much perplexed for having spoken in that manner, and thinking to repair his fault by some kind of blandishment) I should not desire to be affected by any other whatsoever. No,
Varro (replyed she with the same contempt) the delicacy of pleasure you speak of, must be secured, and you need not fear I shall disturbe it.
Varro, as fierce and sprightly as he is, was extreamly dejected with these last words of
Emilia; so that endeavouring to compose his countenance the best he could, and beholding that charming person with a forced smile, as if to intimate to her, that what he had said was onely in jest. But, Madam (said he) you mistake the matter; for you may understand my sentiments are wholly pure and unconcern'd, if I pretend to marry a fair person whom I love, and by whom I dare not hope to be belov'd again. That term, dare, was wrong placed (answered she with the same air) but,
Varro, since I am not in the humour to examine whether your sentiments are pure and unconcerned, you will do me a great pleasure to speak no more of these matters. But, Madam, (said I to
Emilia) 'tis unjust to impose silence to
Varro; for since his opinion ought not to be followed, it is requisite that he change it forth-with; or after having said his utmost to confirm it, be convinced of his error by contrary reasons.
If
Varro should not change his opinion (said
Attilia) there would be no danger of drawing much of the world to be of his judgement. The sentiments of the multitude are not alwayes the best (answered
Minutius) and the greatest part of man-kind is not perpetually the wisest. Should what you say be true (replyed
Fulvia) yet there
[Page 159] would at least be in the kind of sentiments, the satisfaction of not erring but in good company. Besides (added I) an error ceases to be such when it is generally receiv'd. And what will become of our priority, if the sentiment opposite to that of
Varro be perfectly good and generally receiv'd? We may examine the goodness of it (answered
Minutius) but as for being generally receiv'd, I shall not agree to that; for in the Chamber where we are, the opinion of
Varro ought to find many defenders, since the Ladies who are present, ought either to approve it, or confess that they take pleasure in being belov'd.
For my part, (said
Attilia) I should take none inbeing hated. But, Madam (proceeded she, addressing to
Aemilia, whose countenance spoke her unwillingness to declare her self) you shall tell us your sentiment also, if you please. To tell it you ingeniously, since you desire it (answered she) I shall acknowledge that I conceive the friendship, or the indifference of persons that are worthy of both, ought to be desir'd; as they say, 'tis a pleasure to be commended by a person that is commendable himself. But, Madam (said
Varro) if an amiable person should not love you, would you be less satisfi'd, when you consider'd that you did what you ought, in loving a lovely person, and especially that does not love you, since you would act without interest? There would be more generosity in that which you say (answered
Scipio) but I do not conceive there would be more satisfaction. That generosity (replyed
Varro) would cause the pleasure I speak of: but since you require I should speak of a pleasure that is more essential to the thing, I have onely to tell you, that if you come to marry a person that loves you passionately, you act as well for her as for your self; so that this satisfaction being divided, is weakened on your side; whereas if you act onely for your own interests, you have the pleasure of seeing that all you do is done for your self, and that you triumph over the passions of a fair person.
Besides, when you act in this manner, you resemble Conquerors, who gloriously win a place that resists; whereas they who get themselves to be affected by their little diligences, attendances and complacencies, are like those Captains that take Cities onely by intelligence, or some other secret means. Moreover (added
Minutius) in the deportment of a person that loves, you observe something so obliging, that seems to disparage modesty, whereby you are not so lively affected with it; besides, that such a person requires at several times you should perform certain duties to her, and certain services which she overcomes according to the capriciousness of her passion; and so taking them as tributes which you owe her, it is impossible you should render them without regret, because you do with constraint. But upon the countenance of a person that loves you not, you alwayes see such a coldness and reservedness which increases modesty, and ravishes you with a joy beyond my ability to express.
[Page 160] I shall go further (replyed
Varro) and say, that there is something more noble in this sentiment of mine. For either the person we love, has wit, or she has not; if not, you may easily judg there is no great advantage in being lov'd by her; if she has, and does not love us, we have the glory of doing what we ought in loving (as I said before) and surmounting the greatest obstacles in the course of our passion, which unquestionably are the insensibility, and the ingratitude of the person beloved. And to shew you (proceeded
Varro) that what I say is beyond all doubt; let us examine friendship, which nearest approaches love, and the name of which having nothing in it but sweetness, will not affright the Ladies, who entertain it oftentimes under the name of the passion I mentioned, which they conceive something too untameable and tumultuous. Let us speak, I say, of friendship; and suppose, Madam (continued he, with a hidden design, addressing to
Aemilia) that
Attilia lov'd you passionatly, and you did not love her; it would without doubt come to pass, that
Attilia would take a thousand and a thousand cares to please you, whilst you paid her with ingratitude, and return her cruel and severe words in acknowledgment of her blandishments; so that it would also happen, that all the world would commend the generous procedure of
Attilia, and blame yours. For friendship, which is an union not being possible to be built but upon two foundations, and that which is between two persons extreamly accomplisht, not possible to be other then commendable and illustrious. You will be blamed, Madam, for not supporting it on your part, and your indifference will augment the lustre of
Attilia's sincere and generous affection. You will I hope permit me to leave you (added he smiling) to make the application of what I have said, and at least in conversation to make you pass from friendship to love; for if you judge a friend to be so much the more generous in that his affection is not countenanc'd; why will you not judge the same of a lover, whose passion being more ardent, merits more acknowledgment? Confess therefore, I beseech you, that my opinion is not absurd as you believed it, which is, that there is much sweetness and generosity in marrying a fair person whom we love without being loved; for if I love, I act, and act with choise, yea with liberty too; since at the beginning of my passion, I have power to determine to love or not to love; whereas, if I am lov'd, I am without action, I onely lend a dead presence (as I may so speak) and in sum, only receive the tokens of an affection which I cannot destroy. I believe (said
Scipio) 'tis possible to find either effectual or apparent reasons for all the things in the world; but this does not hinder but there may be found others contrary, of more or less prevalence, according to the justice or injustice of the subject they concern. Wherefore you must not wonder,
Varro, if you are told you are mistaken in your reasonings.
For did not you say, the satisfaction of a man that acted for his
[Page 161] own interests, was much greater then when he acts also for those of the person loved? It follows therefore, that you must confess you love your self onely; for it would be a strange contradiction to pretend that you love a fair person at the same time that you condemn acting for her.
You also said afterwards, as I remember, that your satisfaction being shared by the person you lov'd, would be much weakned on your side. Alas!
Varro, you understand little of the nature of love, since you are ignorant that this passion is so far from dividing, that it unites all things, and instead of sharing satisfaction, makes you enjoy that of the person loved too, and so gives you a double one. Then would be the time,
Varro (said
Servilius) that you might abandon your self to the ravishment of joy that was spoken of, when you should see your own passions excite the like in a fair person, when you beheld your joy glitter in her eyes; and her fair mouth sigh for your griefs. This,
Varro (proceeded he) is that delicacy of pleasure you ought to wish to re
[...]ent; for we may say, that he that is not capable of it, is uncapable of the highest satisfaction. These words of
Servilius caused
Scipio to blush; upon which I immediately began to speak, and that with some heat, to the end no notice might be taken of the alteration in the countenance of this illustrious-Lover: and addressing to
Varro: If you surpris'd me (said I to him) when you termed that a divided satisfaction of two persons, whom you confess to be united, because they love one another; I was not less amaz'd when you compar'd the heart of a fair Lady to a City besieg'd; for I can fancy nothing more discrepant.
If we see (continued I) that the force of battering Rams, and other warlike Engines, make breaches by which the Victor enters the place besieg'd; we see, on the contrary, a generous heart is never gain'd upon but by complacencie, submissions, respects, and a thousand little acts which cannot be taught, but are daily inspired by love. We see, I say, a generous heart, that noble and independent place which is able to breath an air of libertie amidst chains, is so far from giving enterance to any whatsoever by violence, that it never receives a conqueror but by the gate which it self freely opens. Nevertheless, though I should have approv'd your comparison, yet you would be obliged to confess, that a man that raigns by violence cannot raign long, that he must stand in fear of all the world, since all the world does so of him, that he is ready every day to see his very Guards turn their Arms against him, and his subjects wearie of being such, shake off his tyrannicall yoke; and therefore I believe it will easily be judged better to enter and raign by gentleness in a place, and to be the lawfull possessor, then a severe usurper of it.
As for the sentiment of
Minutius (said
Scipio) it will not perhaps be better entertain'd, because himself follow'd that of
Varro. You asserted (continued he, addressing to
Minutius) that we see in the
[Page 162] countenance of a fair person that loves us, such a kind of obligingness that disparages modesty. But do not you know, that love is alwaies accompanied with respect, fear and languor: I mean those respects which do not torture the mind, and those sweet fears that delight the persons who cause them, and those languors which embellish the countenance, and give it an air infinitely affecting: And not of those—which you spoke of, which can have nothing lovely in them, because 'tis aversion which produces them. As for the services and duties you mention'd, which you imagine a person that loves us exacts imperiously, your self destroy what you establish; for in saying such a person loves us, do not you also imply, that she desires nothing but what pleases us? and when you suppose we love such a person, do not you also grant that we do nothing for her with constraint? In the distinction which
Varro made afterwards (continued
Scipio) it may be said he has not stood to his first sentiments; for I conceive, at the beginning of his discourse he designs to act onely for himself, and in the place I speak of, he remembers that he ought to be generous, and that he ought not to act but for the interest of the person loved.
But to omit this kind of discussion, is it not to be thought an unhappiness to love, and not be lov'd again, whethersoever the person lov'd be ingenious or otherwise? For if we love a person without wit and worth, we may without much arguing conclude, that our engagement alone renders us unhappy. But we are much more to be pittied, when a Lady of a sprightly and judicious wit, is averse from loving us; for all the world wil have ground to conclude us undeserving to receive that which a Lady that judges prudently of matters, refuses to grant us: Besides (added I) for accomplishment of the misery, such a Lady should refuse that which she were in some measure oblig'd to grant, namely to love him that loves her. For indeed (continued I) for the Interest of my friend, 'tis a peculiar grandeur of love, that all the Treasures and Empires of the World cannot satisfie it, but it must suffice it self, and the inflamed heart communicate its flame.
As I was pronouncing these words, I lookt upon
Aemilia, though without unseemliness, and that fair person began to speak after a smile infinitely charming, addressing to
Aemilia, at the venture of saying nothing considerable (said she) it is requisite for me to answer to what has bin said concerning me, and to declare that the supposition is impossible that was made of my not esteeming and loving you. But though you had not that goodness for me (answered
Attilia) and should happen not to love me, the reasoning of
Varro, would not, I conceive, be the stronger, for in truth, I should esteem my self infinitely unhappy. But so far would your proceeding be (repli'd
Aemilia) from being noble and generous, as they say it would be, that you would be accus'd of stupidity, if you could persist in loving a person, who in not loving you would assuredly be highly unjust. For my part (said
Fulvia agreeably, blushing a
[Page 163] little) since it is lawful for me to confess there is sweetness in loving, it will be also lawful for me to say, that there is infinite in being lov'd, and I wish I had sufficient eloquence to prove it. You have, Madam, (answered
Scipio) to prove things much more difficult, and
Varro has not served himself of reasons strong enough to perplex so excellent a capacity as yours. For
Varro affirm'd (continued he) that 'tis more noble to love then to be lov'd; because when when we love, we act, and that with choise and liberty, having in our power to determine to love, or not the first moment we engage our selves.
But to be lov'd, said he, is, to speak properly, to do nothing, but lend a dead pretence, and receive testimonies of a passion that is not to be destroy'd, which is not difficult to be refuted. For if the person that loves, acts; and the person lov'd, does not; the forbearance of the latter is much more noble then the action of the other, since the inducement to act proceeds from, as well as the end of the action terminates, in the person lov'd: As it is the grandeur of a King to cause a thousand persons to act without taking the pains to act himself, and doing that for his subjects which they are oblig'd to do for him. But I have wondred more at that which
Varro dar'd to affirm, that 'tis in our power to determine our selves to love, or not; and that to be lov'd, is to do nothing but receive the tokens of an affection which we cannot extinguish: I will not insist in finding out a contradiction in these words, though it would be no difficult search. But if a man can love, or not love, a Lady that desires not to be loved by him, might easily give him powerful inducements to resolve not to love her; so that, contrary to the sentiments of
Varro, it will be in her power to extinguish the passion that such persons has for her.
But
Varro is excusable for having spoken in this manner; for he knows not very well what love is, since according to his sentiment, a man is able to determine to love, or not to love; and since he is ignorant that our hearts are on a suddain engaged, before our reason deliberates the matter, and we take the chains upon us without knowing whether we ought to wear or break them. But in my judgement,
Varro is yet more unjust, when he says with a kind of contempt, that to be lov'd, is to do nothing, but onely receive the testimonies of an affection that cannot be extinguished. For indeed, what can be more glorious then that desirable impatience, of not being able to hinder our selves from being beloved? What can we say more magnificent of our Gods, then that it is impossible to know them without loving and adoring them?
Thus you see, Ladies, how much
Varro hath mistaken the matter, and whether he has done well in going about to maintain an opinion, which he ought never to have thought worthy to defend. After these words,
Aemilia, Fulvia, Attilia, Servilius, and my self, spoke somthing to intimate, that the discourse of
Varro had made no impression upon our minds, or at least none that was very
[Page 164] advantageous to him. And it now growing late, it fell out by chance that
Scipio, Varro, Minutius, and I went forth together; when beholding one another with looks that spoke no great kindness, as you may well judge, Madam, we silently and unadvertingly went along till we came upon the bank of
Tyber, where we walk'd some moments all in silence; till at length
Varro, whose nature is sufficiently violent, regretting what had pass'd at
Aemilia's house, lookt stedfastly upon
Scipio, after having blush'd two or three times. You have had more assistants (said he to him) then I at
Aemilia's; but I do not despair, having an other party which perhaps will render me happy in the manner I wish. For, I believe not (continued he) a Lady of extraordinary merit, and whom I should honour infinitely, as I do
Aemilia, ought to think her self injur'd, if I take all manner of courses to marry her. But on the contrary, as there is nothing better evidences the greatness of a passion, then the extraordinary means which are us'd to satisfie it; I conceive, a Lady, how averse soever she seem, would be glad to have great projects and contrivances employ'd to conquer her; and indeed they bring more glory to him, that serves himself of them, and to the person for whom they are undertaken, then those kind of little diligences, slight complacencies and secret insinuations, which being ordinarily without lustre, are also ordinarily without glory. You deceive your self,
Varro (answered
Scipio) if you believe a Lady that were of
Aemilia's humour, could approve such violent proceeding, which you term extraordinary courses.
On the contrary (pursued he) you must know that Virtue and seemliness have constituted certain waies, beyond which all passes for rudeness and irregularitie; and therefore a virtuous person would be so far from being wrought upon by those great projects and contrivances you speak of; or to speak more clearly, those boisterous attempts and violences, that she would perfectly hate a man, who in order to marry, should take your great courses, employ your grand projects, and make choise of your extraordinarie means. You ill apprehend my sentiments,
Scipio (replied
Varro) when you speak of boisterous attempts; for what power soever I have in
Rome, I will never make use of it to do violence to
Aemilia. You would have done verie well,
Varro, (said
Scipio disdainfully) to have said before that fair person what you say now, though it had bin onely to have setled her mind. For the house of the
Aemilii have great reason to fear the power of
Varro in
Rome. But,
Varro, (continued he with a fierce air) you would do yet better not to speak so high of the party you have in
Rome, but believe your self not capable of using it against a house so illustrious as that of the
Aemilii. For when all is done,
Varro, Aemilius will spoil your plots at his return; and if in his absence you offer to execute any design not consistent with virtue, I will do the same that he would do if he were at
Rome.
It belongs not to you (answered
Varro, blushing) to examine of
[Page 165] nature the designs I am framing, are; and I conceive you have not yet bin long enough at
Rome, either to make plots there, or to be able to break them. And 'tis so little a while (replied
Scipio with a scornful air) that your name has been known there, that my name alone would break the partie that you have form'd; and if this means be too weak, I shall find others that will do it both more powerful and more infallible.
Those other means you intimate (answered
Varro fiercely) will as little daunt me, as the pronouncing of a name, which seems to me to have nothing mysterious enough in it to do great exploits.
These words of
Varro made
Scipio lose the patience which he had till then preserv'd, so that suddenly wresting a sword which was carryed by a slave; Let us trie,
Varro (cryed he) whether I can well make use of those means I intimated. Ending these words he drew the sword, and as
Varro, Minutius, and my self had seiz'd others which were carried by our slaves, we had all four began a combate which in all probability would soon have been fatal, if by chance
Flaminius, Lentulus, and several other Romans had not at the same moment arriv'd in that place by a street which open'd just upon it, so that they were immediately upon us, and parted us. But for that
Scipio and
Varro, fear'd lest the ground of their quarrel should be known, they presently were provided with pretexts, and alledg'd their difference was occasion'd by a discourse concerning the affairs of the Armie. And accordingly said
Varro (who was more capable then
Scipio, to speak a thing confidently that was not true) I was defending, that
Sempronius did very well to prepare himself for a battel, and that he would do better if he engag'd assoon as possible.
Scipio immediately contradicted me for the interest of his Father, and endeavoured to perswade us that
Sempronius was unjust, if he gave battel before
Publius was perfectly cured, that he might be in a condition to bear part of the pains and glory with
Sempronius. So that having answered
Scipio, and
Scipio replied to me, we were easily exasperated; and
Laelius being of
Scipio's opinion, as
Minutius was of mine, they became involved in our quarrel, instead of being inclinable to reconcile it.
This pretext of
Varro seeming to carry some colour of truth, because the general discourse of
Rome was much after this rate,
Flaminius who was something more aged then
Lentulus, desired to take up the business upon the place, imagining we had no other grounds of quarrelling; so that entreating us to speak no more concerning the interests of
Publius and
Sempronius, he caus'd us to promise him we would not, thinking by that means to avoid all mischievous consequences, and so we retir'd severally. In the mean time
Varro considering with what ardor
Scipio had sided with the interests of
Aemilia, did not doubt but that he was enamour'd of her; and therefore perceiving he had to do with a Rival so considerable, and moreover with a Rival that was conscious to his secret, he determin'd to bestir himself to execute his design before
Scipio
[Page 166] should discover his love, or
Pyneas return with
Lucius to accomplish his. My Illustrious friend, on his part, resolved to neglect nothing; he engaged seven or eight of his friends to be in readiness to serve him in an important affair, in case he should have need of them, and chose out ten or a dozen of his Domesticks, whom he believed to be men of courage, not daring to make a stronger party, least the business should be discovered. For being not certainly assured that
Varro durst attempt in the City of
Rome to carry by force a Lady of great qualitie, he fear'd that if his great preparation to oppose a pretended Ravisher, should be known, it would be believ'd about the City, either that he was sufficiently amorous of her to have lost his reason, or was seiz'd with a pannick terrour: Besides, conceiving that if
Varro intended any such thing, it would be onely by night, he thought he should be strong enough to resist him with eighten or twenty men in whom he might confide. But for that it was impossible for him exactly to know the day in which
Varro would enterprise what he had projected, he was minded also to make himself sure of a noble relation of his named
Appius, who lodg'd near
Lucius's Palace, to the end if the encounter should happen to be in that quarter, and the noise of it heard at
Appius's house, he might take from thence what succour should be necessary. Thither therefore he went to acquaint him with the business; but finding him not at home, and unwilling to stay he left a Note conceiv'd in these terms, with order to be delivered to his own hands.
I Came to your house to impart to you an affair of very great importance, but not finding you within, and it being probable I shall need you this night, I left this note to intreat you to be in a posture of issuing forth well accompanied, if you hear a bustle near the Palace of
Lucius, and to come to my aid, if I find too great resistance there, which yet in all appearance I shall not do.
Scipio having written and shew'd me this Note, went from thence, and afterwards as soon as night began to appear, sent one of his slaves, and commanded him to pass to and fro time after time before
Aemilia's Gate, till an hour which he set him to retire, designing to send others thither successively, and continue this vigilance all the night to observe if any appear'd there in a readiness to attempt any thing. But when it was told
Scipio, that there was no person seen there besides some Domesticks of
Lucius, he slept quietly till the break of day; when he arose to go to
Appius's house, where he understood his Note had been delivered to him, and that he was gone an hour before into the Country.
Scipio was something troubled
[Page 167] that he could not speak with him; but when at his going out of the house he beheld the stately Palace where the adorable
Aemilia liv'd; this fight not onely dispell'd his trouble, but inspir'd him with a very sensible joy. But the aspect of the person lov'd, causing one incomparably greater and livelier,
Scipio awaited impatiently the hour in which he might see the fair person he ador'd, and accordingly went to her house to pass the afternoon with her; but he was surpris'd when the Porter of
Lucius told him
Aemilia was gone forth with
Claudia, and that by all conjecture they would not return home till night.
The amorous
Scipio heard not these words without regret, and being not able to remain longer without seeing
Aemilia, he presently resolv'd to go seek her in all places whither he judged she might be gone. But this transport being over within a few moments, he conceiv'd it not consistent with decency for him either to go or send to seek
Aemilia, and therefore he bethought himself to send to inquire for me in all these houses, commanding the slaves which he sent into divers quarters to have tydings the sooner of what he desir'd, that they should pretend I was with
Claudia. This was rationally enough contriv'd; for it was very usual for
Scipio to cause me to be sought out, and not strange it should be said I was with
Claudia, at whose house I was almost every day, as I have already told you; so that by saying confidently I was with her, it might be confidently demanded whether she were in the places at which I was sought for. Nevertheless, all this diligence prov'd unsuccessful; and which was more perplexing,
Scipio understood that not onely
Claudia and
Aemilia were not gone abroad at all that day, but also that
Minutius had pass'd the afternoon with them at their house: for a slave whom he caus'd to watch about the Gate till they should return home, to the end he might come presently and give him notice of it, told him that he did not see them enter into the house, but beheld
Minutius come forth from thence towards night. We mus'd a long time concerning this adventure; but all we could imagine thereupon, serv'd onely to perplex
Scipio, who came at length to believe that
Varro had devis'd some means to win the mind of
Claudia, and that
Minutius perhaps went thither to treat of an affair on which this passionate Lover could not think without being enrag'd. Yet he did not cease his former course of sending slaves from time to time towards
Lucius's Palace; but he onely learnt that at several times, many came forth to look them in the faces and observe them.
But
Scipio made no great reflexion upon this last circumstance, both because he believ'd it was the custom to take notice of such persons who in the night time pass and repass several times before the same house: but when he considered that
Lucius's Porter had assuredly spoken by
Claudia's order, and that in all appearance, it was onely for
Varro's interest, he resented a greater passion then I am able to give a name to, much less to describe. He passed the night
[Page 168] without sleeping, and the languishment which had seiz'd on him sometime before through excess of love, being now accompanied with so deep a discontent and so many inquietudes, caus'd him the next morning to seem as if he had bin a long time sick. Assoon as he thought it fit time to see the Ladies, he resolved to go to
Claudia's house, which I absolutely oppos'd, and represented to him so undeniably, that he was too passionate to be able to make this visit without giving evident suspitions of the violence of his passion, that at length he suffered himself to be perswaded, and permitted me to go alone and visit that admirable Lady which he adored. I found at
Claudia's house five or six fair persons, whom I have not hitherto mentioned to you, Madam, because I conceived it not necessary in the relation I am making, to inform you of all the fair Ladies in
Rome: Fabius, Cato, Regulus, and
Marcellus, were there also, whose presence with the rest made this day extreamly agreeable.
Aemilia appeared to me even more charming, although amidst the sweetnesse wherewith she was accustomed to receive all the world that came to her; I observed methought, a little melancholly, which from time to time she could not well dissemble. I had an extraordinary desire to go fit near this adorable person; but I staid a good time to do it with convenience, which I could not do till a happy change fell out for my intention. For three or four Ladies of great qualitie, and something advanced in years, entered into
Claudia's Chamber, who led them apart to her own Couch, and so left us to make a conversation which was afterwards something more gallant and divertising. I did not omit then to take my opportunity to speak to
Aemilia, assoon as I could, without being over-heard by any person; wherefore turning my self towards her, Well, Madam (said I to her) since
Scipio and I were yesterday unhappy, may we know to day to cause of our unhappiness? In truth,
Laelius (answered she) you would be a very strange person if you should require me to answer your question? Yet 'tis requisite you do it, (replyed I) for I am not in the humour (added I smiling) to believe it lawful for you to do us mischief, without being at least obliged to inform us why you do it. You are so little prudent to day (
Laelius replyed she agreeably) that I know not very well whether or no I ought to discourse with you; Its very easie for you to be so, Madam (answered I) who know not what an unhappiness it is to seek every where for the Illustrious
Aemilia, without being able to find her. You have reason (replyed she smiling) to bemoan your self, if that be the unhappiness you mean; for I look upon it as very great and insupportable. Ah! Madam (interrupted I) speak seriously, I beseech you, and be pleased to tell me whether
Scipio and
Laelius were concerned in the order that was yesterday given to your Porter, to say you were gone abroad. To speak to you after the manner you desire (answered she seriously) I believe
Claudia commanded the Porter that he should give the same answer indifferently to all that came to see her. Your Porter then is not very punctually
[Page 169] (replied I) for I know all the world was not so unhappy as we were.
Minutius (answered she) whom without question you intimate, was here before that order was given, and this did not hinder its being afterwards given to all the world. 'Tis not,
Laelius (added she blushing) but that I have understood
Claudia has some great cause to complain of your friend. How? Madam (interrupted I) can
Claudia believe she has cause of complaint against
Scipio? surely, Madam (proceeded I) you can no sooner have told me upon what she grounds her complaint, but I shall let you see she can have no just foundation for it. 'Tis something which I cannot tell you (answered she) for
Claudia has not informed me of it; and to testifie to you that I know nothing of it, you see I admit a conversation with you, who perhaps would not pass for very innocent, if I knew your friends crime. 'Tis true (replied I) I am criminal, if he be culpable. But it is more true, that I am perfectly innocent. As I had spoke these words,
Aemilia was drawn aside to answer to something that was proposed to her; after which we engaged our selves in a promiscuous conversation. In the mean time I was desirous to stay till all the company was gone to justifie
Scipio with
Claudia; but it was so late before they all retired, that I had not much time to speak with
Claudia, though I had too much to hear a thing that seemed to me terribly surprising. For, Madam, you must know,
Claudia after some other discourse, told me with an air extreamly severe, that she wondered, a person for whom
Lucius and her self had an infinite esteem and kindness, one of so noble and glorious accomplishment, could be capable of contriving a design very strange and unjust. For, in brief,
Laelius (proceeded she) I understand
Scipio has too much interess'd himself in our domestick affairs; I am told he has engaged some of his friends to make great preparations, aiming at the interruption of a marriage of
Aemilia; but I conceived he would have done better not to have medled with any of these matters. Believe me,
Laelius, Reason is not alwaies the Mistress of persons of your and your friends age, and perhaps, (added she, shaking her head a little) you have given us in a testimony that however discreet and virtuous you are esteem'd, you are yet short of that perfect wisdom, which is elevated above all passions, and have not absolutely renounc'd all temerities of youth. I beseech you, Madam, (answered I, when I was recovered from the astonishment, into which her first words had cast me) let us examine the matter, and you will see.—There's no great necessity of that (interrupted she) and I conceive it ought to be sufficient to you, that I understand it exactly enough already. You know it exactly! (cryed I) No, no, Madam, 'tis impossible; you have without question bin ill informed, since you know not that
Scipio has rather oblig'd then offended you. You deceive your self,
Laelius (replied she) for though
Scipio should have believed he acted for my advantage in this affair, I conceive I were not concern'd to thank him for doing so; since it does not belong to
Scipio to make or break a marriage
[Page 170] of
Aemilia, nor to examine whether the Matches propounded to her be advantage or not. But as to satisfying you how I have bin informed, I desire to be excused; to morrow you shall see whether I deport my self with as much discretion and moderation as is requisite in a person of my age and sex. Besides, to tell you some of my sentiments, I take no pleasure in speaking of a thing which I shall endeavour to forget, as well for that I still acknowledge my self obliged to
Scipio in the person of
Aemilia, as well for that I am still sensible of much esteem and kindnesse towards him. But
Laelius (added she, as she was going from me) content your self with what I have said, and be pleased to require no more from me.
Leaving me these words, I was constrained to go away from her house, which I did, so surprised and sad with what I heard, that
Scipio, who expected me with an extream impatience, cryed, assoon as he saw me. Ah!
Laelius, your aspect speaks some great unhappiness, but in the name of the Gods (added he) declare the matter without concealment, to the end I may appease
Aemilia's mind, if she be incensed against me for any cause I am ignorant of, or that I may dye if that adorable person forbid me evermore to seek her.
Aemilia is not at all incensed against you (answered I) but I know not whether it would not be better she were so, and I had not that to tell you which I am going to relate. Speak it out then,
Laelius, (interrupted he) speak it confidently; and since the adorable
Aemilia is not incensed against me, you shall see I will suffer with sufficient moderation whatever you have to tell me. I wish it prove so (answered I) but I have not much hopes of it. For, to tell you the matter really as it is, that having a true knowledge of the mischief, you may seek the necessary remedy; I have onely to recount to you the discourse I lately had with the Mother of the Illustrious
Aemilia. And accordingly after this, I recounted to
Scipio in full I had heard from
Claudia; whereupon this passionate lover suddenly interrupting me. Ah!
Laelius (cryed he sorrowfully)
Varro is then agreed with
Claudia: you had indeed reason to say, that it were better
Aemilia were incensed against me, provided
Claudia were not in the manner she is. For my innocence would have soon appeased that fair person, whereas the too great severity of
Claudia would listen to what you had to say in my justification. Oh Gods! who could have believed the best intentions should have been followed with the worst success. Alas! (continued he with the same air) who could have believed that
Scipio, wholly possess'd with zeal and respect, should come to see himself the most unhappy person in the world, because he had the best intentions? and that a violent and unjust man should come to the point of seeing his crimes Crown'd, and receiving a recompence for them so glorious, that the most ambitious of men would not dare to claim after the most important services and heroical actions? But on what do I amuse my self (continued he, after a reflexion of some moments, upon what he had
[Page 171] said) I content my self with making complaints, whilst perhaps
Varro is within a small step of being happy? O Gods! this thought pierces my soul, this thought kills me. How? let us rather go turn that fate upon my rival, and afterwards do things worthy of
Scipio, of my love, and of
Aemilia. He was going forth at these words, but it being already very late, I retained him, and so well represented to him, that his case was not yet arrived to that extremity which requires the last remedies, that I forc'd him to await till we had understood the matter more perfectly. I will expect then, since you will have it so (answered he roughly) Yes, cruel friend, I will expect; but know at least, that what you cause me to do is something more insupportable then the extreamest misery, Yes,
Laelius (continued he) the incertainty and suspence in which you detain me, has something more cruel in it then absolute despair; for if you would leave me to act like a man that hopes for nothing, I should keep no measure, I should observe no punctilio's of seemliness, I should destroy my unworthy rival; and abandoning my self afterwards to my destiny, either soon enjoy
Aemilia, or soon have recourse to death. I beseech you,
Scipio (said I to him) suffer not your self to be transported in this manner, consider whether you have reason to say what you do, and to take up such violent resolutions. I am not in a condition (answered he) to examine all these matters; I onely consider that I adore
Aemilia, that I lose that divine person, and that by the most horrid injustice that can be imagined. But you know not (replyed I) whether
Aemilia be lost to you; you cannot so much as know who could have discovered your designs, and who has committed the injustice that troubles you, and occasions your complaints. Ah!
Laelius (answered he) the matter is not to be doubted of, none but
Varro and
Minutius could have known my design; 'tis beyond question, they believ'd that to oppose their detestable resolution, I would imploy the assistance of my friends; and not to seek further, it appears they are sufficiently gracious with
Claudia, to have told her part of it; so that,
Laelius, my mis-fortune will have it so, that
Claudia is become incensed against me, for going about to oppose a marriage which assuredly she approves, since she so ill interprets the attempt to break it. And without intimating to her in what manner the marriage was intended to be effected; 'tis certain she has onely bin informed of as much as was necessary to incense her against a person that would oppose it. But I shall soon make her understand by what fraud she is induced to commit an extream injustice, in absolutely ruining a person who never had other designs then such as the greatest severity would account virtuous, and gratifying one who contrived a horrid insolence against her house. Yes,
Laelius, I will open
Claudia's eyes, and afterwards let
Varro see, that though I make not use of wiles, yet I know how to discover them when they are us'd against me, and shall hinder the employers of them from using them with impunity. I should never end, Madam, if I should go
[Page 172] about to relate to you all the expressions of this Illustrious Lover. I could not wholly gain his mind; he was strangely inquieted, and found no intervals of being so: but when he judg'd it convenient time to go to
Aemilia; Let us go,
Laelius (said he to me, let us go justifie our selves, and make it manifest, that if our innocence be persecuted, at least it deserves not to be unhappy. But,
Scipio (answered I, observing his countenance extreamly alter'd) I conceive you are not in a condition to go and reason with
Claudia. How?
Laelius (interrupted he) can you be so unjust, as to hinder me from going to
Claudia? No, no,
Laelius, I must go; for I conceive an accused person gives no great testimonies of his innocence, when he avoids the presence of the person that accuses him. But,
Scipio (replyed I) if you cannot contain your self from going to
Claudia, consider, I beseech you, that you ought not in the condition you are in, to expose your self to the danger of being seen by
Aemilia; for the air of your countenance is apparently changed, and the effects of love, jealousie, grief and choller, are easily legible in it. It matters not
Laelius (answered he) I must see
Aemilia, and I conceive it not necessary to shew her a calm and serene mind, provided I make her see an innocent heart. But, believe me,
Scipio, (replyed I) methinks 'tis a pleasure to appear before a fair person whom we love, with a gallant and amiable air, and I conceive it not very advantageous, to shew her a countenance wherein appears nothing but inquietude and fierceness, but the first wholly sullen and sad, and the latter gloomie and clouded. But,
Laelius (answered he) I am capable of all things when I am to see
Aemilia; I will inforce my self, I will compose my aspect; and if you discern inquietude and fierceness in it, you shall at least perceive nothing of sadness and discontent.
At length, Madam, whatever I could urge more to this passionate lover, he was resolved to go to
Claudia's house, and see the fair person he ador'd, evidencing to me that no attraction is more powerful then that of a person whom we love. But when we arrived there, we found all we had unprofitable; for instead of finding either
Claudia or
Aemilia, it was told us they were gone into the Country in the morning; but whether, or when to return, we could not be informed.
Scipio received this answer like a stroke of Thunder; and beginning to think
Aemilia was no longer in
Rome, that great City suddenly seem'd to him turn'd into a vast desart, and he be came infinitely more perplext and afflicted then he had bin ever before. He then was minded to go and walk upon the Rampants, imagining (as I apprehend) there was some satisfaction in beholding the campagne, and some pleasingness in breathing the air of the Country, whilst
Aemilia did so too. But this contentment lasted but a little space, for he no sooner considered that perhaps himself was the cause, however innocent of
Aemilia's departure, but he became exteamly afflicted: upon which addressing to me, in relation to his thoughts: Ah,
Laelius (said he to me, sighing) this last unhappiness
[Page 173] would have had something more insupportable in it then the other, if I had contributed to it, although I have done nothing but what I ought to do. For, let
Scipio suffer the injustice which is done him, let him sigh and be miserable; this is capable of making me complain, and even of making me lose part of my reason; nevertheless my grief is in some manner comforted, when I consider 'tis for the adorable
Aemilia I suffer these miseries. But my torment is incomparably greater, when I behold that divine person her self suffer, when I see her enforc'd to leave this fairest City of the world to go into solitude, and consider, that perhaps
Scipio is the cause of it. Did
Aemilia suffer what you mention, as an unhappiness (answered I) you would have cause to afflict your self; But perhaps you are injurious to your self, and at the same time you sigh,
Aemilia is amongst divertisements, enjoyes the delights of the Country, breathes the air with sweetness, hears the birds with pleasure, admires the enamel of the Meadows, and perhaps also pleases her self in observing the innocence and simplicity of the persons that make their usual abode there; so that instead of lamenting her self, she is perhaps ravisht with having left
Rome for a time. Ah!
Laelius (cryed he) to what end do you tell me all these fancies? How? (interrupted I) can you blame me for telling you the person you love is not unhappy? You ill construe my zeal; you ought at least to consider that what I spoke was onely to satisfie, since I represented to you that
Emilia was already tasting the pleasure which she is not yet in a condition capable of what would you have me do.
Laelius (said he, sighing) I am unjust in blaming you, and desiring
Aemilia were not perfectly happy at this hour: but,
Laelius, I am amorous, and therefore you ought not to wonder at the extravangance of my sentiments; but you may know, that though I am not lov'd by
Aemilia, and dare not hope to be so, yet 'tis some pleasure to me to think she is afflicted by leaving a City in which I am; and I should certainly resent great torment in imagining she were now injoying all the pleasures you have mentioned. In sincerity,
Scipio (answered I) your sentiments are admirable well regulated, since in the beginning of our discourse, the affliction alone of
Emilia caused yours, and now you tell me you should not be satisfied if
Emilia were not afflicted, and that your self would be sensibly afflicted if she injoy'd contentments.
Have I not already told you,
Laelius (replyed he) that I am amorous? Why therefore do you, (who are not) require reasons, where in the jugdement of men that are free, there is nothing to be found but fancies. Nevertheless (added he) you would easily see that I have reason to apprehend things so differently, if you would consider the diversity of grounds I have to do so; and you would also better perceive that you ought not to wonder, if in the deplorable condition I am in, I afflict my self with all things. I had rather see (answered I) your mind a little more at quiet, and that to intermit afflicting your self in thinking on
Emilia; you would pass the
[Page 174] rest of the day with a fair person to whom I shall lead you. Ah!
Laelius (replied he) my afflictions too much preferable to the divertisement which you propose to me.
Consider, I beseech you (answered I) that even for the interest of your love, you ought to go to some meetings, least your absence from thence during that of
Aemilia, give cause of suspition to conjecture the passion you are possessed with. I should give more cause (replyed he) if I resorted thither; since I should begin to do it only after
Aemilia's departure; that is, when I can no longer see that fair person at her own house. But (said I to him) the City being extream great, I would lead you into a quarter, where it is not known that you have bin a constant frequenter of
Aemilia. Then 'tis unprofitable for me to go thither to hide my passion (answered he.) Wherefore,
Laelius, you ought not to urge me upon the pretext you alledge, but rather be so complacential to take the aire here with me a while, and talk a moment longer concerning the adorable
Aemilia.
Thus, Madam, I was constrain'd to walk still with
Scipio, and entertain my self with him about the charmes of
Aemilia. But at length it growing late, and time for us to retire, we beheld two very handsome Horses passing into the City at the Gate
Capena, which were lead by a servant.
Scipio had no sooner cast his eyes upon the first which was a dapple Gray, and had a very rich and remarkable Saddle on his back; but he knew to whom it belonged; so that looking upon me and changing colour; That's
Minutius's Horse (said he) himself cannot be far of; surely he accompanied
Aemilia; and that which yet more troubles me, is, that
Minutius would not ride in on horse-back, which circumstance undoubtedly conceals some mistery.
As he was speaking these words, we perceiv'd
Minutius indeed, who was with one of his relations, named
Metellus, and was in truth very much troubled to meet us when he so little expected it. Which
Scipio observing, you must acknowledge,
Minutius, that you are much surpris'd in meeing us, where in probability we were not to be look't for. Yet I am not at all (answered he, affecting not to seem so) and certainly I know few things that are able to surprise me. I know some (replyed
Scipio) that will not surprise you, and particularly the departure of
Aemilia; for I conceive no man is surprised with a thing he is not ignorant of, but on the contrary knows even to the least circumstances. True (answered
Minutius, very much more perplexed then before, believing
Scipio better informed then indeed he was)
Emilia's departure has not surpriz'd me, because I knew of it, and moreover accompanied that fair person. You declare this last circumstance very ingenuously (replied
Scipio) for one that intended to conceal it by entering a foot into the City, and who having accompanied so fair a person, ought rather to have entered as triumphant. But after all,
Minutius (added he) you are too much
Varro's friend to be
Emilia's lover; wherefore love,
[Page 175] that affects mysteries, having no share in what we see you do, you must needs be too something too much
Varro's friend, as I said, and perhaps you come from doing things for him which you would not willingly give way to be inquir'd into. You may inquire what you please (answered
Minutius roughly) provided I serve my friend, I shall little trouble my self with what you judge of it. Perhaps,
Minutius (replied
Scipio) it would be well for you I had not at all examined the matter, for you would not then (added he fiercely) have bin brought to make the experiment that
Scipio is as little capable of suffering, as doing an injustice. Your self shall experience (answered
Minutius) that if I know how to render a service to my friends, I better know how to maintain what I do for them. Let us by that f
[...]rthwith (interrupted
Scipio impatiently) since I am with my friend, and
Metellus with you, and there is yet day enough left to do it.
Scipio had no sooner spoke these few words, but
Minutius, Metellus, and my self, seem'd ravisht with joy; so that all four going some distance from the City, and having found a place that was secret enough, and very fit for our purpose, we presently drew our swords and began to close: I shall not particularlize this Combate, but; but I cannot omit to tell you, that I never beheld any man more sprightly, fierce and amiable then
Scipio seem'd to me, when he approach'd
Minutius with his sword in his hand. I could not observe what he did afterwards, because
Metellus and I were presently engag'd. But some moments after, having bin more fortunate then
Metellus, whom I wounded in two places, and passing upon him seiz'd the gards of his Sword, without receiving more then one slight hurt from him;
Scipio came up to us to separate us. I lookt upon him to see in what condition he was, and beholding the blood flow from his Arms; You are wounded (said I to him) yes,
Laelius (answered he) with a cheerful, yet something fierce aspect; but withal, losing time (added he) let us go succour
Minutius who has bin more unfortunate then I. We immediately therefore went to
Minutius whom we found lying on the ground, and dangerously wounded by a thrust through the body, and two others not so dangerous.
Metellut, who well knew the valour of his kinsman, was strangely surprised to see him wounded in this manner; so that beholding him attentively, he consider'd his overcome with admiration.
Thus this victory was not without glory to
Scipio, for
Minutius is one of the most valiant men in the world; and had he then had that prudence he afterwards learnt under the great
Fabius, after that occasion of his fighting.
Hannibal contrary to the advice of that Dictator, he would have bin a very gallant man; but he was then of an humour too violent, and because he and
Varro were by their intrigues, and a certain fortunate fierceness rais'd to the most important charges; they believ'd they should have the same success in all sorts o
[...] enterpises, Yet matters did not always fall out as they expected,
[Page 176] neither in their little affairs, nor in their grand attempts, as without question you have heard, Madam; for all the world knows,
Hannibal would have totally defeated
Minutius's Army, if the great
Fabius had not come timely to his relief; as likewise all posterity will reproach the memory of the rash
Varro, with the dreadful loss we sustain'd at
Canna, and the deplorable death of the Illustrious
Paulus Aemilius. But, Madam, not to leave
Minutius without succour, I must tell you, that though we were all three wounded, yet we rais'd him up, and according to our best skill and conveniencies, endeavour'd to stanch his blood. Which when we had done, and what for our selves we could in such occasions, I went to call our slaves, whom we had commanded to wait out of the field where we fought, and causing
Minutius and
Scipio to be lead by them, and
Metellus and my self slowly following them, we all four entered into a house near the Gate, the Master of which we knew was a very honest person. Immediately Chyrurgions were sent for, all things that were necessary provided, and our combate made known to our relations, who came secretly to visit us, and having reason'd about it, counsell'd us absolutely to leave the City as soon as we could. Wherefore about break of day,
Minutius was carried to one of his relation's houses in the Country, whither
Metellus accompanied him, and
Scipio and I went to
Ostia. Assoon as we were arrived there, my onely care was to provide for our cure, for
Scipio's thoughts were wholly upon
Aemilia, and he gave himself again to be excruciated by his inquietudes, which his late encounter had suspended onely for some moments. But our wounds being neither very great nor dangerous, we kept the chamber but a few days, and soon began to walk in the Garden belonging to the house where we were lodg'd, not daring as yet to appear in
Ostia, till we had first learnt how our affair stood at
Rome. If the rumour of our quarrel did not spread abroad there much at first, that of our retreat was soon confusedly dispers'd in
Ostia; so that this also caused some prejudice to the affairs of
Scipio, as you shall now understand. Receiving news from
Rome time after time, and that ordinarily by night, one evening amongst the rest, we beheld a slave of
Scipio's enter our chamber, who brought us a pacquet, & by the trouble of his countenance, testified he had some extraordinary matter to relate. He was no sooner entered, but addressing to
Scipio, My Lord, (said he) I have something to tell you which I presume will because of no small surprise to you. Speak it then (answered
Scipio) and do not amuse your self to tell me superfluous matters. As I drew near towards
Ostia (said he) and it was yet not late enough to enter into the Town, I purpos'd to hide my self behind one of those great hedg-rows that border upon the Road that leads from
Rome; vvhere having expected night, vvhen I was going to re-enter into the vvay and finish my journey, I heard the noise of Horses vvhich vvere coming to
Ostia, and wondered vvhen I beheld five or six Horsemen alight from their Horses, directly against the place vvhere I vvas hid.
[Page 179] Nothing being betvveen them and me but some bushes, I was easily able to observe their actions, and hear all they said. Novv, I beheld amongst them, a man very richly cloth'd, but to speak more concisely, I beheld
Varro there, vvho advanced himself two or three steps tovvards a man that came from
Ostia, and addressed to him in great hast: Well,
Titus (said
Varro to him first) what sayes
Claudia? What sayes
Aemilia? All that you can wish they should (answered the man, whom I presently knew, having seen him a hundred times at
Lucius's house) and I assure you, my Lord, (continued he) that
Minutius could not have acted more handsomely for your interests. For when you went into the Country, and took
Appius along with you;
Minutius, who is not amorous of
Aemilia, and consequently seem'd wholly unsuspected in what he said, carried the Letter you know of; he nam'd also two or three of
Scipio's friends▪ and for my part, I added that his slaves passed to and fro before the house every night to observe us; and in short,
Minutius so well mannag'd the matter, and I endeavour'd so well to second him, that we succeeded admirably, and
Claudia, who had not much thought of you, who were not then at
Rome, believ'd, and does still that
Scipio could not endu
[...] to hear speak of the marriage between,
Pyneas and
Emilia, and had resolv'd to steal her away for one of his Kinsmen. But, My Lord, you will without question be surpriz'd as well as I was, when you hear
Scipio and
Laelius are by all conjecture at
Ostia, at least
Claudia suspects so from a description made to her of two goodly young persons that keep themselves conceal'd in a house there. Upon which
Claudia and
Emilia, who is inform'd of all by her Mother since our departure from
Rome, are extreamly exasperated against them, and assuredly confirmed in a sentiment which will no question prove to your advantage. Nevertheless, My Lord, the residence of
Scipio and
Laelius there seems to me very suspicious, And I cannot comprehend, wherefore—I know upon what pretences they are there (interrupted
Varro suddenly) I come from
Rome, as you know, where I have learnt the passages of a fray of theirs; but I wish to the Gods that what I hear from you, prove not true in relation to
Scipio's and
Laelius's being at
Ostia. However (continued he, after a little reflecting upon what he had sad) advantage ought to be drawn from all things, and even the retirement of
Scipio to
Ostia, must be rendred serviceable to my design. Go therefore,
Titus, begin anew to serve me, account that for nothing which I have already given you, and be assured your reward shall be proportionable to the greatness of your desert. Go shew
Claudia and her divine daughter a terrifi'd countenance, assure them that
Scipio lies hid in
Ostia; say, 'tis to execute his design, and that a great multitude is to come to him from
Rome this night; in a word,
Titus, omit nothing that may serve me, and expect all things from my gratitude. In the mean time I will go give some other orders, and then offer my person to
Claudia, vvith five or six of my friends vvith me, in reference to the News vvhich I will pretend
[Page 180] to have receiv'd concerning
Scipio's design. If she favourably accept what I offer her, I shall be gloriously recompenc'd for it, with the possession of the charming
Aemilia: for as soon as ever I have drawn a consent that will make me happie, I will challenge
Scipio, to which honour indeed will seem to oblige me, but 'tis my love which will really constrain me more powerfully, to the end I may either rid my self of
Scipio, who certainly will soon discover my Artifice and ruine me utterly, or perish my self to avoid seeing it discover'd. But if, on the contrary, I be badly receiv'd, and my complement be paid with signs of aversion and contempt, I shall have a fair pretext to betake my self to violence. I will speak it aloud, that I am resolved to serve
Aemilia, even against her own will; and since she is wiling to be taken away violently, I will become the ravisher, and sooner die then forsake so amiable a person to any whatsoever: and in this case especially,
Titus, your assistance will be necessary to me. As
Titus seem'd going to answer, a Horse-man, whom
Varro mistook for one of his own partie, but was one that came alone to this Citie, passed by; upon which
Varro fearing he might be perceived by others, dismissed
Titus back again, and going aside into a little path, and follow'd by his a
[...]ndants, gave me libertie to bring you vvith all speed the intelligence I have related.
Scipio's slave had scarce done speaking, but his Illustrious Master, who had bin a thousand and a thousand times upon the point to interrupt him, was beginning to express his sentiments upon what he had heard; which he was not able to do at first, they were so tumultuous. It must be confess'd he resented a sensible joy in understanding
Aemilia was in
Ostia, and having discover'd in what manner he was betray'd; (for, Madam, he learnt nothing from the mouth of
Minutius, who vvas obstinate not to make the lest discovery) but with all coming at the same time to think on the perfidiousness of
Minutius and
Varro, and on the adorable person vvho vvas to be carried away by that treachery, his choler became extreamly violent; and this last passion having something more impetuosity then the other, seem'd alone to possess him. Ah, Traytor! (cryed he) ah perfidious! is it thus that thou betrayest me? Is this the course thou takest to attain the possession of the fairest person in the world? No, no. Traytor, thou shalt never have the success thou promisest thy self, and the Gods who have lately by mine arme punished thy complice, do not now discover thy crime to leave it with impunitie. But, let us not lose time (added he in an impetuous manner) let us go; or rather fly, to punish the Traytor, since the concernment is to serve
Aemilia.
Ending these words, he took his sword, and without remembring that he was not absolutely cured of his wound, caused one to conduct him to
Claudia's house, at the Gate of which we found seven or eight men with arms: Who, indeed, were
Varro and his complices, and, as we vvere informed afterwards, stood there expecting
Titus's answer, vvho vvas gone to advertise
Claudia of their arrival,
[Page 179] and of the cause that brought them; This infamous wretch having already spoken against
Scipio all that the blackest perfidiousness could inspire him with, my illustrious friend did not stay to deliberate when he beheld those people at the Gate, but drew his sword and couragiously set upon them. Are you here, traytor
Varro (cryed he with a fierce and menacing tone) are you run upon the punishment of your crime? Yes, I am here (answered
Varro insolently) to your unhappiness, who come to punish your self for the attempt you were preparing to commit. These words so augmented
Scipio's choler, that he cast himself upon his enemy with such violence, that he wounded him the first pass he made at him.
Varro, who was so far from being pusillanimous, that he has bin alvvaies accus'd of rashness, was not dismaid at this on-set; but on the contrary, being of a violent temper, grew inrag'd, and omitting the necessary care of guarding himself, sought to dispatch
Scipio with one violent thrust; So that
Scipio was also wounded. But his heart being perfectly the heart of a Hero, and that of
Varro the heart of a Lyon;
Scipio wounded him deeply in three or four places, and vvas onely slightly hurt himself in tvvo: for though he fought vvith more love, more impetuosity and choler, yet he fought too with more judgment; so true it is that the valour of
Scipio cannot be proportionably describ'd, having something in it too great, and too extraordinary to suffer it self to be comprehended. In the mean time, Madam, our enemies being well arm'd, and stronger in number, we had perhaps at length bin worsted, although
Varro was already with-drawn from the combate, because our Host, who had guided us thither was wounded, and so was
Scipio's slave, and I had receiv'd one wound in the body, and another in the arm. We had bin worsted, I say, if an inhabitant of
Ostia, who came to the beginning of the fray, had not called a great multitude together to his assistance to separate us. But, Madam, I still tremble when I think that at this time the perfidious
Titus came forth from
Claudia's house, and seeing
Varro all cover'd with blood, who made no longer resistance; and withal, perceiving by the light of the Torches that were brought,
Scipio's sword glittering in his hand, which carryed death or dread on all sides; this villain, either to revenge
Varro, or not to be discover'd, resolv'd to kill this great person; and accordingly went behind him to run him through the bodie, if the Inhabitants of
Ostia I mention'd, had not bin near enough the Traytor to stop him. But he could not so well with-hold his arm, but that notwithstanding that obstacle, the inraged wretch run him with a deep wound into the back.
Now when the Inhabitants of
Ostia had wholly separated us, and
Scipio's slave, who beheld that action of
Titus, had requited the traytor with a great wound too, our Host, who was not dangerously wounded, took care of us, and caused us to be carryed to his house, where he sent to seek the Chyrurgions who attended on us before,
Scipio and I were desirous to be in the same chamber where this Illustrious
[Page 180] Roman, in the first place demanded news concerning our Host, and seem'd very well satisfi'd when he understood he had received only a slight wound in the left arm. Then the Chyrurgions searched our hurts, and told us they were not mortal, though we judg'd by their countenances that they were very dangerous. After which having given them the first dressing, they caus'd our Host to enter into the chamber, who presently approacht towards
Scipio very respectively, and thank'd him for his goodness in remembring him. 'Tis I am to thank you (answered the Illustrious
Scipio) for your assistance; but since it has pleas'd the Gods (added he) that you have not bin considerably wounded; I must desire you to do me an other service, in which there is neither danger nor difficulty, and which nevertheless is of no small importance to me. Go therefore (continued he, observing the man expected only his commands) go to
Claudia's house, tell her she is abused, and that
Varro is culpable, and I innocent. Moreover, tell her, that—But, no, (recollected he suddenly) I should lose too much time in recounting to you
Varro's treachery; go, tell her onely what I have said to you, and assure her that I am ready to justifie both the one and the other.
After
Scipio had given this Commission, he commanded the slave I told you of, should come to him, having resolved to send him at the same instant to
Claudia's house, there to convince
Titus, and wholly discover the perfidiousness of
Varro. After which, this Illustrious lover addressing to me; Well,
Laelius, I am satisfi'd (said hetome with an air that spoke him really to be so, notwithstanding the great wounds he had received.) I am satisfied (said he) since the adorable
Aemilia is now ready to understand the difference there is between the procedure of
Scipio, and the perfidiousness of the Traytor that would destroy me and carry her away. So that
Laelius, whether I die or be cured, I shall receive either fate without excess of sorrow or satisfaction. For when I consider I am upon the point to ap
[...]ear in
Aemilia's mind such as I am, I resent a joy so sensible, that it effaces all other thoughts of whatever importance.
Scipio pronouncing these words something loud, by reason of his passionate expressions, the Chyurgions who were retir'd a while to leave us to our rest, heard his voice; wherefore they returned presently, and entreated him with many reasons and importunities to forbear speaking, which
Scipio promised them, because he had then no cause to neglect his life, or rather because he thought to find more sweetness in thinking on
Aemilia, especially at the same time he conceived she was receiving the information of his innocence. As he was musing upon this with extream satisfaction, our Host entered into our Chamber with a countenance which shewed sufficiently he had not succeeded well in the Commission enjoyn'd him.
Scipio was at first so surpris'd at it, that he seemed struck dumb with amazement; but he was very sensibly afflicted when he was told
Claudia would receive no message nor hear any thing from him, and
[Page 181] that she was gone to offer
Varro both her house and all kind of assistance. How? (cryed he) is it possible that
Claudia would hear nothing that
Scipio sent to tell her, and that she is gone to offer both her house and all sort of assistance to
Varro, who betrayes hers to
Varro, who at the same time that he receives her civilities, has designed to carry away her adorable daughter? But,
Varro, thy falsehood shall soon be discovered (continued he) as if
Varro had bin present) and things shall soon be told
Claudia in thy presence, which shall prove thy attempt and
Titus's infidelity. Yes,
Varro (added he) thy crime shall soon be known, thy accuser shall be a witnesse that both saw and heard thee, and who shall so exactly lay open the circumstances of thy perfidiousness, that thou shall not dare to disown it, though thou seest thy self accus'd by a slave, and a slave of thine enemy, and thy rival.
As
Scipio ended these words, he that he had sent to call the slave he was speaking of, entered our Chamber, and told him he could not find that slave, nor so much as hear any tydings of him.
Scipio had no sooner heard these words, but lifting up his eyes to heaven, compleat my destruction, cruel destiny (cryed he) and seek not out such terrible and extraordinary means to increase the greatness of my misery.
He had no time to proceed further, for the Chyrurgions hastned to represent to him the danger into which this agitation would cast him. I have no more rules to observe (interrupted he impatiently) your assistance is no longer necessary to me, and the wounds you endeavour to cure, afford the least part of the pains that I resent. But
Scipio (said I to him, not to suffer him to abandon himself to dispair) the injustice of
Claudia will not injure for ever, and we shall without doubt find means to make her—Ah!
Laelius (interrupted he, speak not, I beseech you) as you do; accuse not
Claudia, I conjure you: if you see your friend die, yet at least add not to all his torments, that of hearing you term the Mother of the adorable
Aemilia unjust. I am not capable of your virtue (replied I roughly) if I esteem it heroical, I also esteem it inhumane; and I conceive there is nothing more lawful for a miserable person then complaint. Well,
Laelius (answered he sadly) let us pitty our selves; but I beseech you let us impute all we suffer to my unhappiness, and not accuse a person to whom we owe an infinite respect. I shall have as much respect as you please (replied I) yet at least suffer me to tell you, that after the esteem you have acquired, and the gallant actions you have atchiev'd;
Claudia has too lightly given credit to what was suggested to her to your prejudice. Alas!
Laelius (answered he sighing) it must be believed, that the esteem you mention is ill grounded, if yet it be true that I have gain'd any; and that what I have done hitherto is little considerable, since a person who cannot be deceived in her judgement, has not bin sufficiently prepossess'd in favour of me, to be able to resist the first assaults of calumnie. I might have a thousand things to alledge (replied I) for
[Page 182] you, and against
Claudia, but I will not continue a discourse which I see is prejudicial to your health. Let us speak, I beseech you,
Laelius (said he) let us speak of my unhappiness, without accusing
Claudia of it, and without taking heed to a health which deserves no longer to be cared for. I answered nothing to whatever he spoke afterwards. But he was transported to call me cruel friend, and to press me with the most affecting language he could use; in which nevertheless I resisted him, and refus'd to the most illustrious friend that ever was, the sole thing I ought not to have granted him. Yet my silence caused not his agitations to cease absolutely▪ he still complained against that strange medley of infelicities that befell him; he set his thoughts a thousand and a thousand times upon the glorious beauty of
Aemilia, to render himself more unhappy, in thinking afterwards on the injustice which had injur'd him in the mind of that divine person.
Thus, Madam, this illustrious Lover would neither listen to the Chyrurgions entreaties nor mine, and was tormented the rest of the night with such violent troubles, that the next morning the Chyrurgions began to affirm there would be no hope of his recovery, if the violence of his inquietudes dured some hours longer. But while he was in this deplorable condition, and no body was permitted to enter into our Chamber, one came to whisper me in the ear, that
Claudia desired to see him, if it might be without disturbance.
Claudia desires to see
Scipio? (answered I) Alas! tell me whither or no you know her so well, as not be deceived, before you speak further. 'Tis she (answered the messenger) and I know her so well, that I can assure you of it, and tell you moreover that an Inhabitant of
Ostia leads her, and that she is follow'd by
Aemilia, and two or three of her attendants. Go then (said I to him) and cause her to come hither; and in the mean time addressing to
Scipio, whom I would prepare for the joy he was to receive, lest being suddenly surpris'd, he might undergo some more vehement agitation by a contrast in his heart, surprising between a joy that would offer to enter into it, and a deep sorrow that would dispute its admission. But, Madam, all I could do was unprofitable: For, besides that, I had not time, to speak much,
Scipio was so little dispos'd to believe he was upon the point to receive the visit I speak of, that
Claudia entered before he believed it really. It would be difficult indeed, Madam, to express to you the condition this Illustrious sick person then was in: for he had no sooner cast his eyes on the fair person that followed
Claudia, but he seem'd like a man that were on a suddain brought into the rayes of the Sun, after a long continuance in the obscurity of a Dungeon. He began to behold
Aemilia with so much intentness, that he forgot, as I knew afterwards, both the treasons of
Varro, and your honour which he received from
Claudia. He did not so much as remember the wounds he had upon him, and the condition they had brought him to; in short, he lookt onely upon
Aemilia, he thought of nothing but
Aemilia, and remembred not
[Page 183] any thing but this adorable Lady, with which object his mind and heart were wholly taken up. Yet this did not hinder him from being extreamly weak and faint, as you may easily judge; so that when
Claudia came near him, and bowed down her head to make him a complement, he would have enforced himself to return her the civilities which sick persons that receive visits are usually able to perform, but his strength failed him, and all he could do was to behold
Claudia, with a certain attention that sufficiently shewed he thought he saw that in a dream which he really beheld. I beseech you,
Scipio (said she to him) consult your generosity before you hear what I have to say to you; and believe, I conjure you, that if I have done an injustice, I have done it innocently, and in a manner by force. For in truth (contniued she)
Minutius, who seemed to me neither your enemy, nor
Varro's intimate friend, told me several times, that your resorting to our house was onely to find out some means how you might bring to pass a marriage of
Aemilia with the Son of
Manilius who is your Kinsman. He afterwards came to tell me of certain Verses which the King of
Illyria had written, which testified sufficiently that he pretended to our Alliance, as which
Lucius himself confirmed to me not long after. This deceipt came to my knowledge, as I remember, two or three days after the departure of
Lucius and
Pyneas; and as I was wondering before him, that some persons belonging to had bin seen passing too and fro a hundred times before our Gate the night before, he took his time to tell me that the pretensions of
Pyneas having interrupted your purpose, you designed to take some shorter course, although violent, to bring your intention to pass. Accordingly, Madam, (continued he) I know that
Scipio has engaged five or six of his relations or friends, which I shall name to you, to assist him in what he designs.
I know also that he has indeavour'd to gain one of your Domesticks, named
Titus; and for an evident proof of what I tell you, behold, Madam (said he to me) a Note that is fallen into my hands, which
Scipio writ to
Appius, who dwelling near your Palace, might apparently more conveniently serve him then all his other relations. After these words he presented me a Note indeed, which I knew presently to have bin written by you, having seen your Letters many times shewed me by
Publius while you were in
Greece; at which being greatly amazed, I read it over often enough to be able to remember the very words of it; which were these,
I came to you to your house to speak with you, concerning a very inportant affair, but finding you not there, and perhaps my occasion requiring your assistance this night, I have left this Note for you, to entreat you to be in a readiness to issue forth well accompani'd, in case you hear any tumult neer
Lucius's Palace, and to come to my aid if I meet with resistance there, which yet in all appearance I shall not.
[Page 184] Now
Scipio, Does not your Note speak very precisely? Does it not fully enough confirm what
Minutius had before told me? Withall, this assur'd me at the same time, that you caus'd it to be told him that you would give him an excessive recompence, provided he would serve you in a very important affair you had to communicate to him: And thus I became at length fully perswaded of the truth of their suggestions; for besides what I have told you, I was also assured by some, that the night following, several persons belonging to you, were seen coming to observe what was doing at our house; this,
Scipio, caused me to resolve to forsake
Rome for some time, without so much as declaring to any whether I went, because notwithstanding your pretended crime, I could neither hate you, nor forget the obligations I had to you; but I was glad to deprive you of the means of executing the design I believed you intended, and also to avoid, least our houses should fall into an open feud: I communicated my purpose to
Minutius, to whom I took my self to be very much obliged; he presently approved it, and having offered me all services in his power, he told me afterwards, that believing himself obliged to make the discovery to me he had done, he was ingaged to imbrace my interests in this affair, whether soever it came to break forth, or—Alas!
Minutius (interrupted I) how do you treat me? Can you believe I would embroil you with your friends, and so ill acknowledge the favour you have but now done me so generously? But Madam (said he) what will you say to
Scipio when he comes to clear himself upon the change which he will observe in your comportment towards him? I will say nothing (answered I) But Madam (replied he) who so sayes nothing in these conjunctures, sayes all things in effect; so that it will be better for you to tell him one of the reasons you have, not to treat him as formerly, then to say nothing at all to him: And since you will not have the matter published (added he) do not mention that which would most sensibly incense him, do not treat him as the Ravisher of
Aemilia, but only tell him, you do not take it well, that he intermeddles in the breaking of a marriage that is propounded for her, without expressing what marriage you mean. Upon these reasons I was induced to speak in that manner to your Friend
Scipio, as without question you have understood, and I after that left
Rome for the causes I have told you: But for that you already know all that is passed since, as a Slave of yours lately assured me, it remains only to tell you that
Fabius is here (continued she, pointing at the Inhabitant of
Ostia who had lead her) to whom we have great obligations, and whose prudence alone has discovered all these matters I have related to you, as himself can testifie. The Gods, My Lord (said
Flavius) and not my prudence, have cleared up the lustre of your virtue, and dissipated the cloud wherewith black calumny endavoured to envelop it. But to let you know in few words, in what manner they
[Page 185] have served themselves of me, to lay open so detestable a treachery, I am to tell you that I was the person who coming from Rome last night, beheld the conference of
Varro, upon the way which the circumstance of time presently rendred suspitious to me. So that being arrived at home, as I was considering on what I had seen, I heard a noise about the Gate of this Ladies house, which is but a few steps from mine, which caused me to run to see what the matter was, and afterwards call my Neighbours to my aid, to part the fray. At which time I perceived a man whom I called to mind I had seen in the conference upon the way to
Ostia, going behind you to kill you; I opposed his purpose immediately, and seiz'd upon his arm; but my zeal proving less powerful then his rage, I could not wholly stop the blow which yet did not pass unpunished: for at the same time, a man whom we since understood belongs to you, rewarded him with a great wound through the body. Whereby judging by his stroke, that the villain I had seiz'd was one of
Varro's partie, since he that wounded him was in all probability of yours (for, My Lord, I had learned your name, and that of
Varro confusedly pronounced in the tumult.) I also caused this man to be seized whom I believed belonged to you. And so causing them both to be put in a place of surety, I hoped to draw from their mouthes some discovery of your quarrel, that I might afterwards acquaint this Lady with it, or send to Rome to advertise some person of eminent quality, who might come and acommode it. My design has very well succeeded; for having brought your slave to give me information, he repeated to me all the relation which he the last night made to you.
After which examining,
Titus, concerning the same, he saw himself pressed by so many particular circumstances which I laid before him, that being passed hope of injoying reward of his treason, by reason he has but few days longer to live, he ingenuously confess'd the truth to me, and excited as great admiration in me of your detestation of the crime of
Varro and
Minutius. You may judge, My Lord, I lost no time; but hastened forthwith to the house of this Lady, and declared to her the matter as I had understood it; upon which she desired to come hither to you, assoon as the astonishment raised by my discourse permitted her. Great Gods! (cryed
Scipio then) I render you thanks; after which casting his eyes upon
Claudia with as much joy and respect as he was able to express in this condition; I crave your pardon, Madam, (said he to her) for having contributed, though innocently, to the causing of your inquietude. But, Madam (added he) some moments after) wherefore have you taken the trouble to come your self? could you not have sent some one of your attendants to come—Alas!
Scipio (answered she) how do you treat me? I came with an extream tenderness to desire your pardon my self, for the injustice I have done you, to request you to forget it, and to cause you and your friend to be brought to my lodgings,
[Page 186] to the end I may have the greater care of you. Believe not that
Varro has bin there (added she) for he would not accept of the offer I made him to acquit my self of the obligation I conceiv'd I had to him; but assoon as he learnt that you were not dead, he caused himself to be carried out of
Ostia, tormented, no question with the remorse of his detestable intentions. But,
Scipio, there is great difference between you and
Varro, for, besides divers great obligations which I really have to you, there has always bin a very friendly correspondence between our families, and I have ever entertained a great dearness and esteem for you; and therefore I have resolved to cause you to be carryed to my house; or if that cannot be done without danger, to come my self hither every day, to see that you be healed with the greatest care and diligence possible. Ah! Madam (said
Scipio)—do not not enforce your self to reply (interrupted she) for your condition disables you from resisting me, and from speaking too. In the mean while I leave you to compose your mind to quiet, which, no doubt, has bin agitated with a thousand different thoughts during the relation we have made you; and I go to your friend to justifie my self with him, and impart to him what I have already told you. In speaking which words, she came to me, with
Fabius also, because she perceived
Scipio was offering to make her a remerciment, which might have injur'd his health: and as I perceived
Aemilia onely making a reverence to
Scipio as she passed before him, and so following her Mother. How? Madam (said I as vehemently as my weakness would permit, and addressing to
Claudia) will you suffer a person whose interests
Scipio has engaged in, to pass before him without speaking so much as one word to him?
Aemilia is not accustom'd to speak much where I am in presence (answered
Claudia) and I conceive she accounts it unmeet to begin to violate that decorum to the prejudice of
Scipio's health. Provided
Scipio speak not (replied I) you have nothing to fear; besides, I apprehend there is some kind of power in the aspect of a very fair person to dissipate the sadness of a sick person. Speak to
Scipio then (said
Claudia, turning towards
Aemilia) though I refer not to the reason which
Laelius alledges of your beauty; but suffer him not to answer you. Accordingly, Madam,
Aemilia went and sat down near
Scipio's bed, and whilst
Claudia, Fabius, and I were in discourse apart; this Illustrious Lover (as he after told me) took this opportunity to mention his passion to the adorable person who gave it birth. For
Aemilia having at first beheld
Scipio with a little blushing, she began to speak to him with so great a sweetness, that the most insensible persons in the world would have bin affected with it. I did not conceive my self (said she to him) oblig'd to make you a complement; for having done you no injustice, saving in my submission to the sentiments of
Claudia, I believed my self obliged to nothing more then to yield with greater pleasure to the sentiments contrary to those whereof you might accuse us as of a great crime. Ah! Madam, (interrupted our passionate infirm) how
[Page 186] good and how generous you are, in being pleas'd I should die the most contented of men, by informing me then that the onely person of the world; for whom—
Scipio (interrupted she likewise) I am forbidden to suffer you to speak, lest it be prejudicial to your health. If you prohibite me to speak (answered he) onely for the preserving of my life, I shall lose it through joy, Madam, provided, that without losing respect, I may tell you that I die yours.
Scipio (replied she) Why will you give me more causes then one not to hear you? is it, that you would be unjust towards me, because you believe I have done you an injustice? Alas! Madam (answered he) why will you not hear the most respectful of all Lovers, who never dar'd to mention his passion to you, but when he is dying? And why do you term a man unjust, who adores the only person that best deserves the adorations of all the earth? Well,
Scipio (said she) I return to
Claudia, since you will have it so. Go, Madam (answered he) while this unfortunate person betakes himself to dye, since you will have it so: yet he will not die (added he with a weak and dying voice, though he inforc'd himself to speak) but after having declared before the fairest person that ever lived, that he dies less by reason of the wounds he has receiv'd, then of love—He could not finish what he intended to say; love was the last word he pronounced, which I believe he could not have reacht to, if there had not been infinite sweetness in pronouncing it before the person beloved.
In brief, Madam, my illustrious friend fell into a swound by having spoken after a too passionate manner; for the pittiful condition into which he was reduc'd by a great loss of blood, follow'd with a thousand violent agitations; and the denyal of
Aemilia to hear him; though it was after a manner extreamly civil, did not a little contribute thereunto. That fair person was so affected with this accident, that she immediately made a great shreek, and testified as much sorrow as amazement. After which turning towards us, as
Claudia was hastning to see what the matter was; Ah! Madam (said she to her)
Scipio is dead.
Scipio dead! cryed
Claudia and I together) O Gods (continued I, casting up mine eyes to heaven with the greatest sorrow that ever I resented) can you suffer
Scipio to perish in so unjust a quarrel? Will you suffer so admirable a life to be extinguished in its beginning? and can you think it enough to shew to the earth but transiently a Haro, whom it seem'd you had destinated for the most memorable exploits, by the grand qualities you so liberally favoured him with? I continued thus to bewail the infelicity of my friend, and beseech the Gods for his preservation, not being then able to assist him saving by vows and prayers. And indeed the Gods in a short space restored him to us, whether it were that they would not, a work which they had so excusably framed, should be of so little continuance; or would not withdraw so great a prop from the City of
Rome, which they protect with a goodness, of which all the world has seen indubitable testimonies during the
[Page 188] war which
Hannibal brought into
Italy. So the Chyrurgions recovered this Illustrious person, though with extream difficulty, who opened his eyes at last after severall cordials, and began to give us some hope. But when he became capable of well discerning the objects that were about his bed, he assumed new vigour, by perceiving the lovely eyes of
Aemilia were wet, and that apparently some tears had dropt from them. And indeed
Claudia and
Aemilia could not without weeping behold such a person as
Scipio in so great a danger, and even dying for their quarrel, to whom they had so great obligations, and as yet given him no tokens of the gratitude they pretended to testifie to him. Wherefore they went not forth of our Chamber till they had seen
Scipio in as good a condition as he was in at their coming to him; though
Claudia insisted no more to have us carried to her house, because the Chyrurgions judg'd it unfitting.
Assoon as they were gone, Madam,
Scipio related to me the discourse he had with
Aemilia, and then told me he believ'd the remedies appli'd to him would be unprofitable, since it did not please
Aemilia he fhould live. I cannot,
Scipio (interrupted I) suffer this your injustice, and without doubt you would not speak in this manner, if you had seen the grief of that fair person. I oberved well (answered he) that by all appearance she had shed some tears. But,
Laelius, this does not fully satisfie me, because most certainly she believed she bestowed them on my death. Should what you say be true (replied I) have you any reason to conclude she would not have you live, since your seeming death caused her to weep? Ah!
Laelius (answered he) do not deceive your self, but believe there is a great difference between these two respects, for it is usual enough to be effected with the death of any whatsoever. But it does not often happen that any persons interess themselves to contribute towards the contented life of others who are indifferent to them. So that,
Laelius (added he, though he saw I could not approve his speaking)
Aemilia forbidding me to speak to her of my passion, forbids me also to live; for to tell you in a word what I think, since I know you desire I should not speak much, it is an undoubted truth that 'tis impossible I should live without loving
Aemilia, or that I should live without speaking to her of it; and if she has not the goodness to suffer me to do so, then take your measures accordingly (added he) either to preserve my life, or to prepare your self to see me separated from you by a death, which will without doubt be cruel to me for more then one cause. The Gods will preserve us from that unhappiness (replyed I) and I believe moreover
Aemilia will never consent to the loss of an Illustrious Roman, whose crime consists onely in declaring to her, that one of the most worthy persons of the world dyes for love of her, but for a love so respectful, that he presumes not to discover it but tremblingly, and when he is upon the point to dye of the wounds which he has lately received for her, having embraced her interests in the most generous manner that can
[Page 189] be imagin'd. No, no,
Scipio, she is too reasonable to carry her cruelty so far as you apprehend; and I pass higher, and believe she is not displeased that you love her; but for that she make profession of a scrupulous virtue, she judges it not becoming to listen to a Declaration of love without endeavouring to impose you silence out of decency. But according to the knowledge I have of her, I believe she would have strangely ill-heated any other besides you. For Ladies of great quality and eminent virtue, are very difficult in admitting such discourse as we are speaking of, for that they will not their hearts should be attaqued by any, being determin'd to dispose of them only according to the pleasure of the persons to whom nature has made them subject. Nevertheless I despair not of success for you with
Aemilia; and if you will promise me to yield to all things for the promoting of your cure, I promise you I will act not unprosperously with the person you love. Ah!
Laelius, if you would—I have done
Scipio (interrupted I) and I cannot suffer you to speak longer. These last words caused my dear friend to be silent, who was more apprehensive of displeasing me then injuring his own health, and afterwards suffer'd any course to be taken for his cure.
Not long after, Madam, an occasion of serving my friend with
Aemilia presented it self. For
Claudia her self visited us, and daily came to see in what condition we were, though she had sent twice or thrice before for the same cause. So that as she was pleas'd from time to time to give such orders concerning us as were necessary, her adorable daughter often remain'd near my bed, not venturing to approach that of
Scipio alone. Whereby it was easie for me to take my time to speak to that fair person, and to let her know that she had really the power of life and death over my Illustrious friend. You speak not seriously,
Laelius (answered she blushing, and I think you doubt not, but your friend would soon be in perfect health, if my cares could effect any thing; for in your choosing me for your friend (continued she) you ought so to know, I am any of sufficient goodness, as to believe that these kind of reproaches cannot be cast upon me but with injustice. What I have spoken, Madam, (replied I) was in the greatest seriousness possible, and the accident you beheld here, not long since leaves no room for the doubt of it. But, Madam (proceeded I) the sequel of it will be much more lamentable, & unless you give
Scipio some testimonies of that goodnes you say you make profession of, you wil see him die infallibly within a few dayes, and you will also assuredly see grief will cause me to follow him. So that, Madam, you must either prepare your self to behold that misery, or admit the declaration of the most respectful passion that ever was resented.
Aemilia perceiving I spoke with an air that sufficiently intimated the correspondence of my words & thoughts, and remembring likewise the extream danger wherein she had seen
Scipio, appeared a little mollifi'd; but she did not wholly yield, and would not promise me to permit
Scipio to speak of his passion to her. For, I wonder,
Laelius (said she) you should be so instant with
[Page 190] me as you are, since a friend is much more obliged to cure his friend of a weakness he observed in him, then a Virgin is to hearken to things which seemliness forbids her to suffer. Neither does seemliness prohibit you to suffer the passion of my friend (answered I) nor is that passion a weakness, since you, Madam, are the person that have excited it, and given it birth in a heart perfectly illustrious. But, Madam (continued I) not to lose time, answer me, but in the name of the Gods answer favourably; Will you suffer
Scipio to love you, or will you suffer him to die? Alas!
Laelius (replied she) why do you please your self in afflicting me? and wherefore do you porpound things to me which I ought not to hear, much less consider which to choose? But,
Laelius (continued she) perceiving her answer, deeply affected me, to shew you that I am good, I will my self go offer my friendship to
Scipio, I will withal desire his, and intreat him to chase away all other sentiments that he pretends to have for me. And accordingly after these words, this fair person without expecting any answer, went to
Scipio, and having a while beheld him with blushing and silence, because she immediately observed a thousand tokens of his passion in his countenance; I come (said she to him) to desire a favour of you,
Scipio; but in the name of the Gods do not refuse it to me. Ah! Madam (answered the passionate
Scipio) why do you not forthwith command the person, that of all the world owes you the most implicite and perfect obedience? Nevertheless, I will not tell you (replied she) what I desire to obtain of you, unless you first promise to grant it.
These words gave
Scipio some suspitions, so that he mused upon them a little; a
[...]ter which suddenly resolving, speak it, Madam, (said she) and if you command me not to cease loving you, without doubt you shall be obeyed. Well,
Scipio (answered she) if I desire you should love me, would you do that which—Ah! Madam (interrupted he impatiently) why do you make a question so cruel to me of such matters? Command, Madam, command (added he transported with his love) and if the business be about serving you, I will do things, as infirm as I am, that shall astonish all the earth. I require none of those great things of you, (answered she) I come onely to request you to act with moderation, and to cause you to change the tumultuous sentiments you have for me, into those of friendship. In a word,
Scipio, I come my self to desire your friendship, and to offer you mine. I will none of your friendship (interrupted he roughly) no, Madam, I will none of your friendship; I had rather die the unhappiest of all men, and die your lover, then live with a general esteem, then live with all the honour and glory that can be wished, and live no more but your friend. Yes, Madam, I shall love you during my life with the same ardency I do; I should even increase the violence of my passion if it were possibly to be augmented; and I consider all that love you not in the same measure, as stupid people, without pleasure, without honour,
[Page 191] and without life. Yes, Madam (added he again) I esteem them such as I have said; and if friendship could subsist between two rivalls, I should have already wished a thousand and a thousand times, that
Laelius loved you as I do; for me thinks he spends a languishing and shamefull life, because he lives without love for you. These passionate words extreamly confused the faire person that heard them (as she told me afterwards) for she considered that the Illustrious Lover who uttered them, was the person of the world that best merited her esteem. For, besides youth, goodliness of person, greatness of courage, charmes of wit and generosity of mind which she observed in
Scipio, she considered also that this
Heroe had not been reduced to the extremity wherein she beheld him, but only by having shewed her; and that if he was upon the point to expire, it was only through the violence of his love to her, which he had not declared but in the most respectfull manner that can be imagined. But this severe Lady retaining still some remainder of scruple in her heart, which prohibited entry to a certain tenderness, which she felt was seising on it, she answered her Illustrious Lover, that she could no longer suffer such discourse. Alas Madam, (replied he sadly) adde also that 'tis their pleasure that I should not live. In sincerity,
Scipio (said she to him, perceiving his griefe would make an end of that little strength was left him, after the agitations I told you of) you have no reason to afflict your selfe as you do, and I conceive you would be injust, if you would oblige me to suffer the passion you say you have, after having taken the liberty to refuse a friendship, I offered you my selfe, which perhaps no other would have refused. I do not pretend, Madam (answered he with a lower and weaker voice) to oblige you to any thing whatsoever, not so much as to have any regret for my death, which you are about to be the cause of. Yes, Madam, I betake my selfe to die, since you will have it so; and did I not fear to loose the respect I owe you, by making you see fatall objects, I would at this moment, leave of what is applied to my wounds in order to preserving my life.
Scipio ened these last words with so familiar accent, and in so languishing a manner, that
Aemylia perceived he was again falling into a sound. Upon which rising up suddenly and being throughly mollified, Live (said she to him) live
Scipio, I beseech you, I conjure you. But Madam, (answered he with a weak and trembling voice) you know well what you must suffer, in order to preserve my life. Well,
Scipio (replied she, letting fall a few teares from her lovely eies) I will suffer it, to avoid consenting to your death; my constancy yields at length to your importunateness; I esteem you sufficiently, and have obligations to you great enough to conform me to resolve to suffer this kind of persecution from you, when I cannot avoid it. But, Oh admirable change!
Aemylia had no sooner done speaking, but
Scipio resumed new strength; such power have the words of the person loved to penetrate even to the heart, and fortifie it against the
[Page 192] attaques of excruciating passions.
Scipio, I say, assumed new vigour, and amorously beholding the fair person that began to be favourable to him; I will live, Madam, since tis your pleasure (said he with a stronger voice) and moreover I will live happie, since tis your pleasure I should live.
As
Scipio ended these words,
Claudia entered into our Chamber, accompanied with
Publius and my father, whom she had sent to
Rome, to advertise of all that had passed, they were also followed by seven or eight of our relation, who came to testifie their obliging sentiments of our unhappiness. But for that they spoke but little, and that too after a manner sufficiently sad. I shall not repeat their discourse to you. But I shall content my self with intimating to you, that our ordinary Chyrurgions, with those our friends brought from
Rome, having entreated the company to with-draw, they all did so, and left us to our repose; of which then
Scipio began first to be capable. But, Madam, I am desirous to leave him to take it, as also to give you libertie to go to yours; for I believe it is extreamly late, and that extraordinary watchings are neither agreeable nor advantageous to fair persons.
Laelius here broke off his discourse, and the fair Auditory beheld one another as if they expected whether or no they should desire him to continue it. But for that they judged, that besides the unseasonable lateness of the night, it might be incommodious to
Laelius to speak yet longer, the referred they sequel of
Scipio's adventures to the next morning: After which they gave
Laelius very obliging thanks, and to shew him some proofs of their attention, reflected a little on the most remarkable passages of the History he had related to them. Which done, the fair Princess of
Hippo gave the good-night to
Nadalia, and having embraced and kissed that amiable Virgin, retired to her own Chamber, being accompanied thither by
Lelius. The next morning
Palmira and
Nadalia were more early then their ordinary custome; and
Nadalia being ready sooner then
Palmira, went to the Chamber of that fair Prinncess, whither they afterwards sent to call
Lelius, assoon as they were in a condition to be seen by him. This Illustrious Roman repaired thither immediately, and knowing with what impatience
Palmira and
Nadalia expected the continuation of
Scipio's History, without losing time he seated himself near these two fair persons, and resumed his discourse in these terms, addressing it again to
Palmira.
The relation of our sickness being not that which you desire, Madam, if you please I shall pass over in silence all the particular circumstances of it, and proceed to tell you, that when we were out of our danger,
Claudia, Aemilia, and all our relations departed from
Ostia, where they notwithstanding left us, either for that they accounted the air of that City better then that of
Rome, or believed the numerous visits we should be forced to receive immediately at
Rome, would be incommodious to us. But before their departure,
Scipio had a time of speaking of his passion once more
[Page 193] to
Aemilia, and I had the happiness to confirm in to two or three conversations the friendship that fair person was pleased to honour me with. By which means I heard some daies after her departure from
Ostia, that she gave many advantageous testimonies of me at
Rome, commending both my wit and my nature upon all occasions, and daily inquiring tidings concerning me; which caused me to think my self obliged to testifie my acknowledgments of her civilities in a Letter, to which she had the goodnesse to answer. How?
Lelius (interrupted
Nadalia) will you receive Letters in our presence without letting us partake of the gallantries in them, being apparently not written in the serious stile of those Letters of businesse which you recited to us before? You have reason,
Nadalia, (answered
Lelius) there is without question some peasingness in them; and since you desire to hear them, perhaps I may be able to satisfie you. That which I writ to
Aemilia, was, as I remember, conceived in these terms.
YOu seem ignorant, Madam, that you do me the greatest displeasure in the world, by indeavouring to make me pass for a wit. For I imagine, that at such times you think not aright of me, but forget I am sick. For, is there any thing, Madam, more contrary to such a person, then one that keeps his bed? then one, I say, that suffers onely with regret what he ought most of all to seek, whose taste is almost continually deprav'd, and cannot sleep when all the world is at rest; and to express his unhappiness in few words, who is unable to come to you? Pity me therefore, Madam, if you please, for this last infelicity, and I shall be undoubtedly more satisfied then with your Elegies with me; and for accomplishment of my joy, if you wish me health, wish it me I beseech you, to the end I may speedily be in a condition to visit frequently the most fair, most Illustrious and generous friend in the world.
I will never pardon you,
Laelius (said
Nadalia) for going to deprive us of the satisfaction which your Letter has given us; for I find something in it perfectly handsome and ingenious. Well,
Nadalia (answered
Laelius) to deserve my pardon, I will endeavour to call to mind a Letter which
Scipio sent at the same time, and was written as you may judge after a different manner, being of a passionate strain, though not without sweetness and pleasantness; it was almost in this manner.
HOw happy, Madam, should I be, were I but owner of
Laelius's wit? for then you would have the goodness to speak of me, and continually enquire news concerning me; and perhaps you would wish I should write to you often, or not be so remote from you. But now, Madam, I have none of all these advantages: yet if you refuse me them onely because I love you, I am extreamly joyful to be deprived of them; for I had rather have all the passion which enflames me for you, then possess all the wit of
Laelius.
This Letter begins to appease us (said the Princess of
Hippo) and think there wants only
Aemilia's answer to conclude our reconciliation. We shall not be long enemies, Madam (answered
Laelius) for if my memory fails me not,
Aemilia answered me in these terms.
MOst certainly,
Laelius, you understand not the consequence of what you do, when you write me such agreeable Letters concerning your sickness; for you expose your self to the danger of making your recovery fear'd; if you must alwayes write in
[...]his manner, or at least you constrain your friend to read a letter with delight, which contains onely the miseries, which you endure. Write not therefore, I beseech you, in this strain▪ since 'tis not just you should afford me contentment while you injoy none your self; friendship does not allow it,
Laelius, but is so far from suffering that difference between us, that it alwaies indeavours to render those equal whom it binds. Wherefore as you have too much goodness to wish I were sick too, so you are concerned in point of friendship to labour to obtain a health speedily equal to mine: which I wish you,
Laelius, and acknowledge freely to you, that I prefer your conversation before your handsome Letters.
You see in what obliging terms
Aemilia had the goodness to answer me, and this was the Postscript which she writ for
Scipio.
I wish your Illustrious friend a speedy cure. But,
Laelius, I wish with all my heart, that that cure be perfect.
I had not no sooner broken open the seal, but
Scipio look'd with extream impatience whether there were an answer in my Letter for him; but he was sensibly afflicted when he beheld there was none. Indeed he believed at first
Aemylia would speak of him in that of mine, but he soon perceiv'd she did not: upon which his grief would have been insupportable, if the sight of the Characters trac'd by the faire hand of
Aemylia had not given him some contentment, and he had not receivd'd a little more by the Postscript she had written
[Page 195] for him. I perceived he was really ravished with joy, when he observed the delicacy of wit which appeared in
Aemylias Letter. But Madam, as a lover sometimes fancies pleasures to himself from all things, so it often fals out, that he makes every thing poyson, and frames torments to himselfe, where he might really find satisfaction▪ Thus Madam, was it with my Illustrious Friend; for on a sudden he became extreamly sad, and the wit which was replendent in
Aemylia's Letter, and that dearness which might be observed in her Postscript became to him matter of discontent, which I presently took notice of by the alteration of his countenance. For he beheld me with an aire, wholly different from that wherewith he had read
Aemylia's Letter; after which he expressed to me certain sentiments which came into his mind at that time, with which I was extreamly surprized. Ah!
Laelius (said he to me) this Letter of
Aemylia and her Postscript deeply afflict me. Yet they ought to produce a contrary effect in you, (answered I) and I conceive a Letter written by the hand of a faire person, and that in a very pleasant straine, ought to inspire joy into the heart of a lover that reads it; besides the Postscript you speak of, seems to me to contain something of sweetnss and obligingness, which ought rather to satisfy then afflict you. Ah!
Laelius, you are not a lover (replied he) since you speak in this manner; for I know nothing could be more serene for me, then this writing of
Aemylia: for it is impossible that that ungentle person could write to you without thinking of me, especially in this conjuncture; For in that she indulges her wit, notwithstanding that thought, it is easy to judge she is insensible for
Scipio, since the remembrance of that unhappy lover excites no trouble in her heart, which might hinder her from writing with such exactness and pleasantness: But,
Laelius (added he, taking the Letter from me, and reading again the Postscript written in it) this it is that speaks much cruelty to me, that
Aemylia wishes I were insensible for her, and seems in a manner to make slight of reigning in my heart; for the latter words of her Postscript leave me all possible grounds to imagine so? But,
Laelius, saies this insensible person to you,
I wish with all my heart that his cure be perfect. What can you imagine,
Laelius, more cruell for me then these words: But
Aemylia (continued he, as if that faire person had been present) I will never be cured in the manner you wish, and I will adore you all my life, though you have the rigor to wish me a kind of recovery which I dread much beyond the most terrible death. I will not accuse you
Scipio at this time (said I to him) for having too much wit, as you did but now
Aemylia; but whereas you told me I did not comprehend things, because I am not a Lover, I shall tell you that your self do less, because you are. For do not you know (continued I,) that 'tis a part of decency and modesty, for a Virgin to make wishes of this nature, which you complain of; and moreover that they are many times very glad to make unprofitable wishes? Therefore,
Scipio you are unjust to afflict your self as you do, and more so in
[Page 196] desiring
Aemylia should write to me without debonarity and pleasantness of wit; for since you are not prohibited to turne matters to their advantage, is it not more reasonable you should imagine
Aemylia is willing to write galantly, when she knowes you are to read what she writes, and presumes not to do those things uningeniously, which must come to your sight. Those thoughts,
Laelius (interrupted he) are too flattering, and if I were capable of them, I should not only be ignorant of
Aemilia's humour, but believe my self unworthy of her esteem. Wherefore I am of a contrary perswasion to yours, and I imagine
Aemylia's wit displayes it selfe, without he intending it, and that she is so farre from affecting the winning, and retaining hearts, that she takes all imaginable care to acquit them, when she is forc't to see they have been engaged by her charmes. And indeed,
Laelius, her deportment towards me, and the Postscript she ha's writ to you are sufficient proofes of my opinion; besides, that her great modesty ought to convince us, that apparently that admirable Lady cannot favour that kind of conduct, where secresie and address make all the pleasure of a Lover, and that she would not be less offended at those more publick gallantries which love every day, incites to make for a faire person. So that,
Laelius, Aemylia being of this humour, did not without doubt think of preserving my heart and esteem when she writ to you; and this is it which infinitely troubles me, that she ha's written so gallantly, and had no designe to do so. In brief, Madam,
Scipio spake much more to this purpose, complaining of
Aemylia, and presently after infinitely extolling her: but that which seemed to me most surprising was, that he accused her of insensibility, while I sided with her and commended her procedure; and certainly defended her when I ventured to terme her infensible. So true it is, that Love is never without extravigance, even in the most illustrious and intelligent hearts. But to proceed, Madam, I am by this time come to tell you, that we began to quit the chamber, and within two or three daies after, we were in a condition of attempting to take horse to go to
Rome. For the newes we received thence, obliged us to hasten our departure from
Ostia, being informed by a slave who brought us a packet that
Lucius and
Aemylius were arrived at
Rome, that
Claudia was gone from thence, and had left her charming daughter there, who in all appearance would be married to the King of
Illyria within a few daies. He added that there was a rumour spread abroad in
Rome, that
Lucius was ingaged to it, and that
Pyneas was shortly to arrive there for that purpo
[...]e; besides that
Publius and my Father writ to us, not only that we might come to
Rome, but that they should be extreamly glad to see us there, assoon as we could give them that satisfaction without prejudicing our healths not yet perfectly confirmed. Wherefore we did not deliberate what we had to do, but immediatly took horse, being extreamly satisfied that the orders we received were exactly consentaneous to the desire we had to go, and obstruct the happiness of the King of
Illyria.
[Page 197] This sati
[...]faction indeed did not last long; for
Scipio could not reflect on the unwelcome intelaligence brought us without being inraged at it, and testifying his despaire to me. At length,
Laelius (said he to me, as we were speeding along) see the last stroke of misfortune; we may now say, I am upon the point to experience, that which is the most cruell and fatall in love. But I will not experience it (added he suddainly with a transport, and redoubling his diligence, as if himself had been at that instant about breaking the marriage which he feared) No, no, I will not experience it (added he again) and I believe it is not a matter of too great facility to marry the adorable
Aemylia, before the unfortunate
Scipio be sent out of the world. These words made me observe that Lovers have more torments to fear, then pleasures to hope for; and excited also an aversion in me from engagements, which bring us every moment into a condition of mistrusting all things. Nevertheless I desired to repress my Friend's fear; and therefore having beheld him something attentively, and observed that he was deeply afflicted, I indeavoured to represent to him that his trouble was weakly grounded, and that I extreamly wondered he should so soon give credit to an information brought him by a slave. 'Tis because a slave brought it (answered he sighing that my misery is indubitable: for it is not very usuall for a marriage to be openly spoken of, before the treaty of it be concluded; and less, for a slave to know such matters as these before they be published, and consequently before they be concluded. But
Scipio (replied I) you know people usually speak of persons of quality, according to their fancies, and so 'tis not to be wondered if marriages be spoken of, which are so farre from being concluded, that they were never propounded. Wherefore (added I) your apprehension is not justifiable upon reasonable grounds, since a flying rumor renders the matter at most but dubious. Ah!
Laelius (interrupted he) there are foundations for it solid enough to my unhappiness! since I ground it only upon the inclinations of
Lucius, and the departure of
Claudia. For I know
Lucius well enough to judge easily that he would sacrifice all his family, for the good of the Commonwealth, and consequence that he has promised his adorable daughter to
Pyneas, to gratify him for what he has already done, and likewise the better to retain him by that alliance, to the interests of
Rome. And you will not doubt of the truth of this (added he) if you consider that
Claudia is gone from
Rome in this conjuncture; for wherefore should she leave
Lucius upon his return, were it not that she ha
[...]s reasons to do so, and had not the goodness to be unwilling, to be present at the conclusion of an affaire which must perfectly destroy me. Since it was not difficult for
Claudia to know, that Generosity alone did not incite me to act in the quarrels, I have had against
Minulius and
Varro; there's no question but she has understood the passion I have for her adorable daughter, and assuredly compassionates me, perhaps not without some esteem and tenderness, as she told me her self: upon which she is unwilling
[Page 198] to be present at a treaty, which she knows will be fatall to me, that she may be able hereafter to excuse her self of it, if I should make my complaints to her, by alledging all was done during her absence, and that she knew not of the business till it was past remedy.
Scipio added other reasons to these: Madam, but how strong soever his conjectures were, I never ceas'd to lighten and qualifie them during our journey. I shall omit filling you with what joy
Publius receiv'd us, when we arriv'd at his house, and how he was surprised to see us sooner then he expected. But I shall only intimate to you, in what manner we our selves were surprised. Having received caresses of
Publius, with the affectionate testimonies of young
Scipio, and rested a while, during which we had a handsome entertainment set before us;
Publius heheld us with an open and serene aspect, and told us we must go to
Lucius's house concerning an important affaire, and such as would without doubt be very agreeable unto us. After which we will go to yours,
Laelius, (added he looking towards me) He pronounced these words with such satisfaction, that He did not take notice that they caused
Scipio to blush; so that insteed of requiring the cause of the alteration of his countenance, he turned about to go forth, and took his way towards
Lucius's Palace.
Scipio, as great and as much here as he was, was nevertheless perfectly submiss and obedient to the pleasure of
Publius, and went after him, without opening his mouth to complain, and afterwards beholding me, with sighes went to
Lucius's house like victimes, who go of themselves to the Temples where they are to be sacrificed. I will perceive (said he to me some moments after) this important affaire is the marriage of
Pyneas, and
Aemylia. I see,
Laelius, that's the affaire, which a cruell state-inclination makes persons of the humour of my father and
Publius terme agreeable; but,
Laelius (added he, sighing again) I will not speak of
Publius, nor the father of the divine
Aemylia: for as I ought not to mention them but with respect, so I feare the troubles which I resent will hinder me from an exact observance of my duty. He was silent after these words, and continued to follow his father; yet with such dejectedness, that when we were arriv'd at the gate of
Lucius's Palace,
Publius ea
[...]ily perceived it. Upon which, beholding him with an aire, in which appeared a mixture of fear and contentment, In the name of the Gods,
Scipio (said he to him) dispell those tokens of sadness that appear in you countenance, and give not
Lucius and
Aemylia occasion to find fault with you; for to tell you the business more clearly, 'tis in reference to that fair person if we come hither, and to make an alliance which ought to fill us with joy. I knew before, my Lord (answered
Scipio sighing) that your coming to
Lucius's house, was in order to the treating of that marriage. But I beseech their pardon, if I cannot find the satisfaction in it, you would unquestionably have me resent. How?
Scipio (interrupted
Publius) are not you so highly satisfied with this marriage as I wish you were? It cannot be; you have not so
[Page 199] soon altered the mind, and I conceive you will find satisfaction wherein I do, and where without doubt it ought to be found. Ending these words he began to ascend, partly for that he believed (as he told us after)
Scipio would change his sentiment out of that intire submission which he bare towards his relations, and partly that the presence of a faire person, would soon dissipate the discontent he had perceived. But his conjectures failed him; for the perplexities of
Scipio augmented proportionably as he ascended, because he was going to see an adorable person, whom he was in an apparent fear of loosing. So that beholding me with eyes manifesting both his grief and his dispaire, Assuredly
Pyneas is arriv'd (said he) since the friends of
Lucius assemble hither to his house. But,
Laelius (added he in a very violent manner) neither
Lucius, nor
Publius, nor the whole world shall ever cause him to possess the adorable
Aemylia. Some moments after he had spoken these few words, we entered into a Hall where
Lucius was walking, who no sooner beheld us but he came towards us, and having saluted
Publius according to the familiarity that was between them, he imbraced
Scipio with an extream tenderness. After which he commanded
Aemylia to be called; but of a suddain taking notice of the deep sadness that appeared upon
Scipio's countenance, he was much surprised and troubled at it, and believing it in probability an effect of his sickness, he said to him with the same sweetness, How?
Scipio, will you give me more then one cause to complain of you? and that after having put me in danger of loosing the alliance, by concealing from me the sentiments you have for
Aemylia, I see you have endangered the loss of that little health that is left you, by adventuring your self to travell, before you were in a condition for it, without hazard of your life. Ah! my Lord (answered
Scipio) fince you know the sentiments I have for the adorable daughter, can you believe it possible for me to preserve my life, while I loose the hope of obtaining the Illustrious alliance you speak of. That hope of yours would have been lost (replied
Lucius) if
Pyneas had declared his mind; but while I believe he expected to be at Rome, to declare his pretensions more openly unto me, it is happily arriv'd for our house that
Claudia tells me since my return, she conceived you had some affection for
Aemylia, which was confirmed to me by a Letter writ by you not long since, which by chance fell into my hands. Vpon which being extreamly joyfull, I went to
Publius's house, and without sticking at the punctilio's which Parents of Virgin's endeavour to observe, I presently told him of the passion you had, and then offered him
Aemylia: Publius really testified a joy as great as mine; so that after some discourse concerning the happiness of allying our two houses together, I returned home and commanded
Aemylia to treat you as the person designed to be her husband, that is, as one whom she ought to love and honour, and on whom she ought to depend. Thus you see,
Scipio, there wants nothing but your consent to the conclusion of a
[Page 200] business, which as I apprehend, you ardently desire the accomplishment. Whilest
Lucius was speaking thus,
Scipio beheld him with an astonishment transcending my expression. Then he lookt upon his father in the same manner; after which his eyes seemed to ask me, whether I beheld the same that he did; in a word, Maddam,
Scipio for some moments appeared like a man, who thinks he sees what he passionately desires, and nevertheless believes not that he sees it really. But he was not long before he was convinced of the reality of his happiness. For reflecting upon the manner of
Lucius's speaking, and perceiving also that
Publius approved of it by his silence, he moreover observed an aire of joy in my countenance that seemed to confirme the matter: so that seeing himself on a suddain raised from extream unhappiness to supream felicity, Is it possible, my Lord, (said he to
Lucius) that your goodness advances me to the greatest glory that can be aspired unto? Is it possible (continued he, casting himself at his feet) that I am upon the point to marry the divine
Aemylia, and to possess the fairest, and most adorable person that ever lived? As he pronounced these words, and some other abrupt expressions, which his ravishment suggested to him, and as
Lucius was offering to lift him up, the faire
Aemylia entred into the Hall where we were, and with her a glorious splendor, and a thousand charmes and graces. Yes, Madam, such was the entrance of that admirable person, who no sooner saw the most amiable, and illustrious of her Lovers at her fathers feet, and moreover an amiable and illustrious Lover, who she knew was upon the point of being happy, but she presently blusht, and made us judge that in such occasions a like effect of modesty, is the most agreeable thing in the world. But when she approached neer us by
Lucius's command,
Scipio appeared so transported, that we easily perceived the presence of this fair Virgin caused too excessive joy in him, and that he received new wounds from the sight of so numerous charmes, which by being pleasing did nevertheless not cease to be troublesome. For there was so great a dilatation of his spirits, that his heart being the most sick part about him, becoming the weakest by that expansion, this Illustrious Lover had almost fallen down at
Aemylia's feet; and indeed he began to tremble, and an excess of joy appeared painted on his countenance, and his eyes were halfe closed. Which I observing, and knowing what a suddain joy might effect, presently stept to him, and
Lucius taking notice of it commanded
Aemylia to retire; upon which, Madam,
Scipio being still capable to discern objects, perceived the admirable person he loved was gone, which instantly made him resent a kind of regret, that serv'd to moderate his joy, and contributed not a like to his speedy recovery from his fainting. And when he came to be something composed, he returned thanks to
Lucius in termes that expressed much better his contentment, then his gratitude, whilest the admirable
Aemylia retired into her chamber, after having seen that joy did no less testifie
Scipio's affection,
[Page 201] then grief had done some days before, and both passions get even proofs of it as certain as dangerous.
There was also another thing that helped to allay the excessive joy of our Illustrious Lover, which was, that
Lucius and
Publius told him, that for the good of Rome, they had resolved not onely to defer his marriage, but to keep the matter secret. For I believe (said
Lucius) if you should marry
Aemilia to day, we should lose the forces of
Pynaeas to morrow▪ but you ought not to be troubled at the deferring of a thing you are certain of, which is done onely to retain a considerable assistance to the State.
Scipio was suprised at these words; but love, joy and hope, suddenly transporting him, he was upon the point (as he told me afterwards) to declare to
Lucius, that himself would perform actions that should repair the loss of the
Illyrians. Nevertheless, for that virtue always guided that Illustrious Roman, and regulated as well his words as action, he suppressed his sentiments, and onely requested
Lucius to permit that the marriage might be accomplished privately.
Do you think me capable,
Scipio (interrupted the father of
Emilia) to transact in the manner you speak of, an action of lustre and rejoycing; and in which privacy always seems to hide some considerable defect? No, no,
Scipio, do not except it; I will never act in that manner; and I would not give
Pyneas so just an occasion to complain of me, when the businesse should come to be discovered. For the King of
Illyria might say I had abused him by such a secret carriage of it; but he cannot accuse me of any thing whatsoever, when after he has serv'd us, I cause him to be rewarded by the people of Rome, and afterwards prepare his mind to suffer your marriage with moderation, by telling him, (as 'tis time) that
Claudia propounded it to me before himself declar'd to me openly that he pretended to my alliance.
Thus you see,
Scipio, by this course I act as I ought; and is it not enough for you that I promise you
Aemilia, since a word passed by a person of my humour, is sacred and inviolable. You see also that I intend to take my time to temper the mind of a Lover before whom I prefer his Rival, and that I act for the advantage of the Common-wealth, by not depriving it of a powerful aid; for indeed, though
Pyneas has rendred
Illyria tributary to
Rome, yet he is not obliged to supply us with forces, and we have no right to exact any thing of him beyond the Tribute which is imposed upon his Kingdom. But, My Lord (replyed
Scipio) can you consider the violence of my passion without—But,
Scipio (interrupted
Lucius) can you consider what I have said without yielding to it? and would you direct persons who have very much reason for what they design, because you have very much love for what you aspire to? These words pronounc'd with an aspect Majestical, though not severe, and that by the person who alone had right to dispose of
Aemilia,
[Page 202] made
Scipio reflect seriously on the matter; so that revolving in his mind for a few minutes, the happy change of his affairs, and afterwards considering the generous and obliging manner of
Lucius's proceeding, he presum'd no longer to answer him, but onely made him a profound reverence, as if to signifie that he submitted to his Orders. In the mean time before we went away from
Lucius's house,
Publius went alone to
Aemilia's Chamber, where, (as we knew afterwards (he gave her a thousand testimonies of esteem and dearness, which that prudent Ladie received with all the civilitie and submission, which she thought her self obliged to render to a person of high quality, grave years, and extraordinary wit. After whose return to us in the Hall, we departed, and went to my Fathers house, who was extreamly glad to see us, especially perceiving we seem'd very joyful; but that which surpris'd us was, that when he had embraced us, and expressed his tenderness to us,
Publius told him that he
[...] c
[...]me from
Lucius's house, and that without losing time we were going to that of
Regulus. These words augmented my fathers joy, who having once again embraced
Scipio, accompanied
Publius to go accordingly to
Regulus's house, and
Scipio and I followed them. But as
Publius and my father were speaking together, and I was entertaining my self with my Illustrious friend, either concerning
Emilia's beauty, or in conjecturing the occasion of our going to
Regulus's house, my father turned about towards me, and to
[...]d me he would not have me so surprised as
Scipio had bin; and therefore you must now,
Laelius (added he) that you are going to see
Attilia, and moreover to engage your self to her, and in all appearance within a few days you shall marry that amiable person. Verily, Madam, you will be surprised at the effect of these words; for I had no sooner heard them, but
Attilia instantly presented her self to my mind with her amiable, sprightly, and gallant aspect; and I remember I thought upon the charmes of that fair Virgin with a certain motion of dearness, such as I had never resented before. But assoon as I came to
Regulus's house, and had cast my eyes upon his amiable sister, that dearness made it self more sensible in my heart, and contrary to the practise of those who cease to love when they marry their Mistresses, I assure you I began to love
Attilia passionately from the time it was told me I should marry her. And indeed that fair person had charmes sufficiently powerful to affect the most insensible hearts. But it not being her History that I am relating, you will please to excuse me, Madam, from repeating the particularities of the conversation we made; it suffices that you know it was extreamly handsome and agreeable that
Attilia spoke, but little in it, but very judiciously, and with much modesty, and that after we had set a day for the meeting of our friends, we departed extreamly satisfied with the civility of
Regulus, and all the fair qualities of his amiable sister. My Father detained
Scipio that right at his house, notwithstanding
Publius's reluctance to part with
[Page 203] him; and after having taken care of our wounds by the resistance of the Chirurgions we brought with us from
Ostia, he left us in the Chamber of
Scipio, where that Illustrious Lover and I had the sweetest conversation that ever we had made, speaking of nothing but the pleasing adventures that had befallen us, and frequently reflecting upon the circumstances which seemed to augment our felicitie.
The End of the Second Book.
The Grand SCIPIO.
PART II.
BOOK III.
THe report of our arrival being soon dispersed about the City, the next morning we received very many visits from our relations and friends at my fathers house, of which the most acceptable was indeed that of
Regulus and
Emilius, who came thither together. The conversation we had with them was perfectly delightful, and the expressions of our mutual esteem so agreeable, and our discourse so complacential and obliging, that we received not without displeasure other visits that interrupted so sweet an entertainment. For our relations having resolved to keep secret the treaties that were between them, it behov'd us not only to charge our discourse before the company that came to us, but also to use the same deportments amongst our selves (vvhich likewise vve have ever since observed) that vvere vvont to do before the mentioning of our aliances. But, Madam,
Aemilius and
Regulus had no sooner left us, but amongst other persons that visited us this morning, vve vvere surpris'd to see some of the relations of
Minutius and
Varro come to us, and to be ascertain'd of vvhat vve had understood only uncertainly, that the report had bin no more then of a sicknesse vve had suffered, that our quarels vvere not published, that
Varro, Minutius, and
Metellus, vvere in the Country, and that no body much enquired vvhat reason made them continue so
[Page 206] long out of
Rome. We were afterwards inform'd by
Appius, who visited us also that morning that
Scipio's Letter had not bin delivered to him, but that
Minutius had undoubtedly corrupted the slave to whom the delivery of it had bin recommended; for
Appius assured us he did not find him at home when he return'd out of the Country, whither
Varro had engaged him to go in reference to an affair which he told him was of great importance. But, Madam, if the sight of our Parents and our friends gave us contentment, we received one more considerable in the afternoon at
Lucius's house. For after
Scipio had bin at his fathers, whom he desired to wait upon, he drew me to go with him to
Aemilia, telling me that since his love preceded mine, it was more just to go to
Lucius's house before going to see
Attilia. But,
Scipio (answered I with very much trouble) I am oblig'd to go to that of
Regulus, and you may, if you please go alone to
Aemilia. True,
Laelius (replyed he) but if you come not with me, there will want something to the pleasure which I am to receive there. But, verily,
Scipio (answered I with an increase of discontent) you are unjust to prefer your pleasure above my duty. If we could not both go together as well to the house of
Lucius, as that of
Regulus (replyed he) I would be ready to do whatever you pleased. But,
Laelius (added he smiling) do not trouble your self, I will not cause you to fail in that exactness for which you reproached me, the first went to
Servilius's house to see
Emilia there.
He had scarce ended these words, but we beheld a slave belonging to
Regulus pass by, of whom I demanded if his Master were at home; but when he answered me he was gone abroad, and I was going to aks him the same question concerning
Attilia; I was suddenly seiz'd with a kind of fear which caused me to change countenance, and I felt a certain disturbance in my self, that with-held me from speaking, which
Scipio did not fail to take notice of, and smile at. After which having askt the slave what I was unable to do, we were told the amiable sister of
Regulus was with the Illustrious
Emilia; wherefore without losing time in a further contest, vve went immediately where we were to see the two fair persons whom vve lov'd. I shall not tell you, Madam, that if I seem'd timerous in speaking of
Attilia, I vvas much more so vvhen at
Lucius's house, I vvas approaching near to that fair person; I shall also forbear to mention to you vvhat satisfaction I resented vvhile I vvas entertaining that lovely Virgin, vvho treated me vvith all the svveetness that she thought her self obliged to express to a Lover, whom she was shortly to marry, and that without repugnance; for that I am onely to speak concerning the Illustrious
Scipio, and the divine person which he adores. You may please therefore to know, Madam, that as we entered into
Emilia's Chamber, after notice given her, and her permission obtained, vve found only
Attilia vvith her, and tvvo or three other Virgins vvho vvere employed about vvorks in Silk, at the end of the Chamber opposite to the Bed, vvhich presently
[Page 207] caused us to imagine, that they had no intention of seeing much company that day, and conceiving at the same time that we were priviledg'd, and that we should alone have all the liberty we could wish to entertain them; which thought gave us extream satisfaction. Assoon as we had made our reverence with a profound respect to those two admirable persons, they saluted us very civilly, though without offering to look upon us; and we had scarce endeavou
[...]ed to meet their eyes, to observe in them what we were to hope or fear, but we beheld a pure vermilion ascend into their countenance, in which, to our happiness, neither anger nor aversion seemed to have any influences. Yet this made us not more confident; but we advanced towards them with a very profound submission, and desired their pardon for that we were come to see them in a time which perhaps they had resolved to pass in private. 'Tis true (answered
Aemilia with infinite modesty and sweetness) we had no purpose to see much company to day; but for that I have all the submission to the pleasure of
Lucius that I ought, and
Attilia but now told me she had the like for that of her Brother, whom she is willing to comply with; we have not presumed to refuse your visit after the commands laid upon us.
Aemilia in pronouncing these last words, felt that lovely redness to increase, which blended it self so agreeably with the purity of the complexion, that it was perfectly discernable upon her countenance; and
Scipio could not hear them without resenting an extraordinary trouble; so that beholding that fair person with eyes that shewed both a violent love, and a very sensible displeasure: Ah! Madam (said he to her sighing) you are extreamly cruel, in returning me presently into a condition of not doubting of my misery, and intimating to me in the beginning of our conversation, that I am obliging for the honour I receive, rather to the command of
Lucius, then to your own goodness. But that is not all, Madam, (continued he with the same air) for I find something so rigorous in your saying,
You dar'd not refuse my visit, that I can imagine nothing in the world more cruel. In sincerity (replyed that prudent Lady) I confess to you, I would not have received it in the manner I do, if I did not know in what degree
Lucius requires me to respect you. Ah! Madam, (answered he sighing) if it be true that you are sincere in speaking as you do, it is too true that I am miserable. But, Madam (proceeded he some moments after, he had beheld her with a very passionate air) sweeten the matter at least, and in stead of telling me you would not have dared to refuse my visit after the command of
Lucius, I conjure you to say, you would not have dared to receive it without that command. Verily,
Scipio (replyed she with a modest smile) you make me wonder at the difference you put between those two expressions. But without puzling my self in being so severe as you are to examine them, I shall not much scruple to consent to what you desire, and to permit you to take what I said according as seems most agreeable to you. I know, Madam
[Page 208] (reply'd this passionate Lover) you will not find the same difference in it that I do; for 'tis of a nature not presently to be discerned, and there is nothing but love that can find it out. So that, Madam, I do not wonder you confound those two expressions; for however lively your wit be, it is impossible it should apprehend such a distinction, 'tis your heart that must do it: But, alas! it is requisite that that Illustrious heart be first affected, and give me to observe upon your countenance that you well understand all the force of the terms you use, and employ them not but upon choise. Then would it be, Madam (proceeded he with a mixture of several passions appearing in his eyes) that I should be as happy as I am now unfortunate; for since I know all the tenderness of love, and that all that proceeds from you, Madam, makes an impression in my heart, I never fail to resent to the full whatsoever it behoves me to be sensible of.
Scipio continued this discourse still with a passionate air, whilst I was speaking to the fair
Attilia; but the Illustrious
Aemilia always answered him with so much prudence and modesty, that at the same time he esteemed her much more, and also complained of her for it; so that, Madam, I cannot determine whither the amorous
Scipio resented this day at
Lucius's house more grief or joy, or whether he went from it more satisfied or discontented; for
Aemilia treated him with very much complacency in every thing that concerned not his passion, and which was most of all obliging to him, she acknowledged with great freedom and sweetness, that she would obey the command of
Lucius with less repugnance then she should have had for any other. But on the other side, that which afflicted this Illustrious lover, was that she continually acted and spoke with such reservation, that he could never observe that she resented any thing for him beyond esteem, or that he had gained upon her heart. The next day, indeed, he was much more happy, as you shall now understand; for,
Pyneas, who arrived that morning, went to pass the afternoon with
Attilia, because he was informed
Aemilia was gone to her house with her brother.
Fabius, whose love was discovered, was there also with
Cato: and there was likewise two very lovely persons that lived not far from that place, who were conducted thither by
Flaminius and
Marcellus, whose presence occasioned the conversation to be more general, and consequently more agreeable to all those that had no particular interest. So that, Madam,
Scipio had no great reason to be satisfied with this kind of general and tumultuous entertainment, where usually there are some whose humour leads them to the affairs of State, or an Army, whilst others desire onely to speak of Balls, Comedies and Fashions, where the discourse is of a hundred different subjects; and lastly, where every one produces what his interest or genius severally incites him to. Neverthelesse
Scipio had very great reason to think himself happy; for
Aemilia received the King of
Illyria and
Fabius, with all the coldnesse she could shew without seeming uncivil; and whilst she
[Page 209] treated them with a kind of severity, of which persons that are intelligent in such matters easily take notice, she approved with great complacency whatever was spoken by
Scipio, and comported her self with a more obliging air towards him then towards the rest, which caused all the company who were ignorant of the secret transaction, to believe
Scipio Aemilia's friend, as it was known I was, and none ever suspected him to be her Lover. For it was always believed, Madam, as without question you have reported, that
Scipio was not capable of being amorous of any thing but glory; besides, that no person could have imagin'd, knowing
Emilia's humour, and having never heard of the command
Lucius had laid upon her, that that severe Virgin would have treated
Scipio so obligingly as she did, if she had known he was inflamed with love for her. But, Madam, this Illustrious Lover had soon after a more sensible satisfaction; for a Lady of high quality, named
Martia, Aunt to
Attilia (who dwelt at
Regulus's house, because having no children of her own, she desired to take care of her nieces education after her Mothers death) entered into the Chamber where we were, and after the performance of civilities usual in such occasions, told us the day was sufficiently fair to invite us down into the Garden; whither she accordingly caused us to descend both to take the air there, and for the pleasure of the walk. But for that
Pyneas was a stranger, and had newly come from his journey,
Martia treated him with more exact civility, which occasioned him at our going forth of
Attilia's Chamber, to give the hand to her Aunt, whereby
Scipio had the opportunity to lead
Emilia: For, indeed, though
Fabius was a very comly person, and infinitely ingenious, yet he was of a temper neer to that of
Cato; he appeared so cold, so sage, and so slow in his carriage, that he was no very dangerous person to obstruct the happiness of a Rival; nor was he very like those dextrous Lovers▪ who by a way they have learnt in the world, are always ingraciating with their Mistresses, by rendering them a hundred little Offices, leading them, and whispering in their ear, and all this without being lyable to be taxed in vvhat they do, of intrusion or ostentation; besides that in brief, the coldness
Emilia shevved him this day, vvas not I conceive very effectual to dispel that of his temper. By this means,
Scipio, as I told you, had the happiness to give the hand to
Emilia; and being those tvvo Illustrious persons are chiefly concerned in my relation, you must knovv, Madam, that vvhen vve vvere in
Regulus's Garden, vvhich is extream spacious, and the vvalks exceeding handsome,
Scipio beheld the fair person he led vvith infinite love and respect. After vvhich, alas! I beseech you, Madam (said he to her suddenly) be pleased to tell me vvhether I am more in favour with you then
Varro, Pyneas, and
Fabius; or, to explain my self better, Tell me, I conjure you, whether I should have bin treated this day as the two latter were, if
Lucius had not bin favourable to me. Being he has bin so (answered she) I am obliged to have such sentiments for you as I ought not to have any other. But, Madam
[Page 210] (replied he) is it to that obligation you speak of, that I owe my happiness, and will you not be pleased to let me know, whether it would have been lawfull for me, to hope you would have done that out of goodness, which you have done out of obedience? Since that which you cal happiness is ascertained to you (answered she) why do you seek to bring it in doubt by speaking as you do? Ah! Madam (interrupted he) I have no longer any happiness, if to speak as I do, be to bring it to doubt; For indeed, I apprehend that in such occasions as this we are speaking of, it is impossible for a man to be effectually happy, if he owes his felicity only to the command of a Father. Speak therefore, Madam, speak (continued he sighing) but not to kill me with grief: say, I beseech you, that
Scipio owes not all to
Lucius, but that the adorable
Aemilia would have prefer'd him above all his Rivals, if she had had the liberty of choice. Sincerely (answer'd she with very much goodness) I will acknowledge to you, that I should not account my self just, if I could admit
Varro into my mind in concurrence with the Illustrious
Scipio, and you would have cause to believe me very little gratefull, if after all you have done. I were capable to preferre either
Fabius, or the King of
Illyria before
Scipio, to whom I have without doubt such obligations, as I have not to those you call your Rivals.
The Illustrious
Aemylia pronounced these words with so much sweetness, and such an amiable freedome, that
Scipio could not but be highly pleased with them, which yet he was not absolutely; for after a few moments he reflected that
Aemylia seemed rather to act out of generosity then inclination, and that she would have had the same sentiments for any of her Rivals, if he had done the same services for her that himself had performed. So that not knowing well whether he ought to make remerciments for them, or complaints he spoke after a manner so incoherent, his sighes so often interrupted his discourse, and there appeared in his eyes so much love, fear, and respect together, that if
Aemilia were not absolutely moved with it, it was only for that she accustomed her self to hear with insensibility, all the most passionate expressions of her Illustrious Lover. But this prudent Lady having very much severity in her soul, she spoke nothing that could perswade
Scipio he had touched her heart: 'Tis true indeed, the fair eyes of that admirable person, were little more favourable then her mouth, and seemed to tell
Scipio in a language, which appeared still timerous (as I may so speak) that an Illustrious Lover, who has all the advantages of nature, and fortune joyned with excellent acquired accomplishments might hope to become happy. Thus
Scipio parted at this time from her upon good termes, and afterwards had severall conversations with that Illustrious person, during which she discovered to him all the esteem she had for him; she told him with very much freedome part of her sentiments, and intimated to him upon divers occasions, part of the dearness she already resented for him.
[Page 211]
Scipio also understood that
Lucius and
Aemilius alwaies infinitely esteemed him, and that
Claudia had ever so great a dearness for him, that she was oftentimes upon the point to tell his mother a little before she died that she designed
Aemilia for the uniting of their families. He likewise learnt that
Claudia, before her departure from
Rome had commanded her adorable daughter, to have sentiments of esteem and acknowledgment for
Scipio; and that she afterwards left
Rome for no other reason, but only that she might not be obliged to discover to
Lucius all that she knew of the proceedings of
Varro: And in brief, this passionate Lover had so many reasons to belief himself happy in those delightfull entertainments, that I may conclude he was so in reality. But Madam, whilest love and joy are the passions that rule in the illustrious heart of
Scipio, and this famous
Roman is enjoying all the purity of delight and contentment they afford, Intelligence is brought from the Camp of
Sempronius, that
Hannibal had advanced towards
Trebia, that the
Numidians had already made excursions as far as the banks of that river, that they forraged, plundered, and wasted all the Country, and made desolation in all places, whence the
Romane Army might draw subsistence. The Carrier that brought these tidings certified also, that
Sempronius was upon the point to draw his army out of their entrenchments, and to march directly against the Enemies, without expecting till
Publius, his Colleque, were in a condition to joyne with him and fight them. Upon which all the Officers and Valunteers that were then in
Rome, took order the same day for their affaires that they might depart the next, which many accordingly did; for the most part of them expecting suddenly to receive some such tidings, had all things in readiness that could not be provided in an instant, to the end they might have nothing to do, that might afterwards occasion their delay at
Rome. I shall not tell you that
Publius as unfit as he was still for an expedition, would notwithstanding depart, and resolved also to carry the young
Scipio with him. I shall also omit to tell you what regret I had to forsake
Attilia, or what I said to that fair person, when I was upon the point to take my leave of her, and how obligingly she answered me. Nor do I think it necessary to let you know that
Flavius at this time was intertained into the attendance of my Illustrious friend, who had sent to him at
Ostia a reward of inestimable value. Only I shall tell you, Madam, that it was requisite for
Scipio to depart too, notwithstanding the indisposedness he was in by reason of his wounds, and the extream reluctancy he had to leave
Aemilia. But what did he not say, or what did he not do before his going? he went to the house of
Lucius, he saw
Aemylia, and being in the presence of the admirable person, and considering that he was now at the instant to leave her, he beheld her a long time without being able to open his mouth to express his regret. After which, perceiving she was a little mollified, Alas! Madam (said he to her sorrowfully) must I be separated from you! must I part from the
[Page 212] place where you are! must I go where you are not! Ah! no, no, Madam, I will never do it: glory has no longer any charmes to move me, if I must go so far from you to seek it, and its luster seems to me too obscure and too fatall, if it must withdraw me from that of your eyes. As he was proceeding, his sighes interrupted him; and though he had a thousand passionate and tender thoughts to express, yet he was not able to speak, either because he had too many things to say at once, or for that his soul was suddenly too much ingrossed by Grief and Love. 'Tis true, these very passions spoke themseves by hindering him from speaking, and exprest his sentiments in so affecting a strain, that at length the fair eyes of
Aemilia laid open all the tenderness, which that fair and discreet person, had cautiously concealed to that houre, so that these two Illustrious persons beheld one another for some time without speaking; after which
Aemilia with a melancholy that had something in it infinitely sweet and amiable, told him there was an absolute necessity for his departure; for you are obliged to it (continued she) both because you are a
Roman, and especially because you are
Scipio. Go therefore (added she) go whither glory calls you; and if it be true that you have a reluctancy to part from one, begin to overcome your self, that you may be able afterwards more easily to overcome our enemies, and make us hope that he that can gain a victory over
Scipio, may well pretend to gain one over
Hannibal. Ah! Madam (answered he) how difficult is it to gain the victory you speak of, and how contrary is this to those of Conquerors, since the heart it self, is unwilling to enter the combat, in order to gaining it? It behoves you then (replied she) to serve your self of contrary meanes, and I conceive flight will soon bring you to the attainment of the victory we speak of; fly therefore, I conjure you,
Scipio: fly the presence of a person who ha's been the cause that you have been capable of weakness: And to shew you (added we with an extream goodness) that 'tis only for your glory, and not through aversion that I entreat you to depart, I promise you that I will pray the Gods for your preservation, that I shall be glad that you preserve for me the sentiments which you already have, and that I shall have such for you (added she casting down her eyes and blushing a little) as shall be full of a reall esteem and kindness, which the command of
Lucius and your own merit sufficiently authorise. Ending these words she offered to go into her closet; but
Scipio stayed her by her robe, and casting himself at her feet, because there was only one waiting woman in the chamber, from whom
Aemilia concealed nothing, How? Madam (said he with extream grief) have you the cruelty to leave me, after having enjoyned me by a too rigorous prudence to depart from you? will you so cruelly deprive me of the satisfaction which I receive; and in brief, Madam, will you have me fly from a person for whom I live; from a person, without whom I cannot continue one moment, and who alone in the world is able to render me happy? Ah? Madam,
[Page 213] this is not possible. Yet it must be so,
Scipio (interrupted she) and absolute necessity requires it.
Aemilia pronounced these words with so much majesty, and such an imperious aire, that the amorous
Scipio durst not answer; yet he retained her still, and having beheld her a while, after a manner extreamly respectfull and passionate; Well Madam, (said he sighing) I will go since you command me; but I beseech you (added he with the same aire) grant me that which I am going to request of you, since in the condition wherein matters are, I may desire it without injury to the respect I owe you. After that which is past (answered she with her first sweetness) I may without doubt do many things for you; Be pleased then, Madam (said he) to suffer an excellent Painter of
Sicyonia, who is arrived in this City two or three daies since, to draw your pourtrait, to the end I may carry it to the places where I must not see you, and comfort my self with the sight of it, for the miseries I am there to suffer. In truth,
Scipio (answered she) I am extreamly sorry, that I am obliged to refuse you what you desire. How? Madam (interrupted he) will you refuse me the favour which I request?
Scipio, I must do so (answered she) and
Lucius is the sole person in the world that can induce me to admit what you speak of. Well, Madam (replied he) since
Lucius can effect it, I do not despaire of obtaining what I desire; and I conceive (added he) that after all that he has done for me, he has not the same severe cautiousness that you have. There is no time left to intercede with
Lucius to that purpose (interrupted she) and you would absolutely disoblige me, if you should do it. For I put no difference between giving my picture, and teaching the meanes to obtain it, nor have I less scruple for the first then the latter. But, Madam, (said he infinitely dejected) what shall I then carry with me, to sweeten the cruelties of my absence? The love of glory (answered she) and not of certain things which may in some manner render you capable of weakness, as I have observed at this present. The things you speak of, Madam (replied he) are of value beyond all the laurels that glory can Crown me with: so that, Madam, if you—As he was proceeding to speak,
Aemilius, Regulus and I entered into the chamber; and being we perceived
Scipio was dejected and sad,
Aemilius told his sister, she was obliged by very many respects to a dearness for
Scipio, and especially in this conjuncture. But brother (answered she with very much sweetness) what would you have me do, when he desires things of me which I cannot grant him. Choose, Madam, (answered
Scipio) choose what you please to give me. I should be much troubled (replied she) if it were requisite for me to do what you say; for what ever I gave, if I should consider
Aemilia were the person that gave it, I should think she gave too much; and on the other side, if I considered (added she with great goodness) that
Scipio were the person that received it, perhaps I should imagine she gave too little: She had scarce pronounced these words, which manifested an extream delicate modesty,
[Page 214] as well as much dearness for
Scipio, but
Aemilius answered her, that the choice proposed to her, was not very difficult to be made; for sister, (added he) you need only give
Scipio the Scarfe which you promised me; Being I promised it to you (replied she) it is now yours, and it consequently belongs to you to give it. I am not forward to believe (answered
Aemilius smiling) that
Scipio desires to receive it from my hands; therefore sister, if you please, let it be from yours; and to give you conveniency to present it to him, in a manner that may more endeare it, (added he with the same aire) I shall withdraw with
Laelius, Regulus. And accordingly he went out after these words, though he perceived
Emilia was unwilling he should, and seemed extreamly perplexed.
Scipio still pressing that fair person, with extream respect, and a thousand tokens of a violent passion, at last obtained the Scarfe
Emilius spoke of, which was carnation ambrodered with silver, wherein were seen the Characters of the admirable Virgin that gave it; but she delivered it to him with an aspect, that manifested a contest of modesty and kindness in her heart. After which she commanded
Scipio to depart, and bad him adiew, having first tendered her hand to him, which he kissed very respectfully; and as she retired, she turned face away to hide it from
Scipio, the teares which undoubtedly fell from her fair eyes, and so entring into her Closet presently made fast the dore.
Scipio crost his armes and sighed, in beholding this department of
Aemilia, and the grief he resented would certainly have hindred him from going forth of the chamber, of that fair person; if he had not endeavoured to moderate it by casting his eyes upon the Scarfe which he had receiv'd, and recall'd into his mind the obliging expressions, and shewes of tenderness, he had observ'd in that adorable person, at her separating from him. Indeed these very thoughts afflicted him oftentimes; for he could not conceive it possible for him, without dying with sorrow to depart from a divine person, who had very much goodness for him, and began to give him some tokens of a kindness, which certainly was able to charme the hearts of the most insensible. Nevertheless when he came also to consider, that it behov'd him to be wholly cover'd with glory, that he might merit the esteem of
Aemilia, and likewise remembr'd what he had done before he was a Lover, and so proceeding to think of the great exploits he was obliged to perform, in order to rendring himself in some manner worthy of the most fair and illustrious person of the world, his courage was excited to as high a pitch as his love. Upon which he left the chamber of
Emilia with a generous resolution, and it may be said that the consideration of this fair person now drive him thence, as it had before attracted and retain'd him there. Yet before his going he made many civilities to
Silia, which was she of
Emilia's attendants, that was most favour'd with her friendship, and privacy of her fair mistress. After which as he was going away and passed into the hall, he beheld
Lucius to enter, whom had been call'd by some of
[Page 215] his servants, because he had given them order, notice should be brought him when
Scipio came to his house. My Illustrious friend presently made a reverence to the Father of
Emilia, and afterwards made him a complement, in which he expressed both his grandure and generosity, together with that profound respect which accompanied all his words and actions. Upon which
Lucius embrac't him and answer'd him with a thousand testimonies of esteem and dearness; and then commanded him, as a father, to take care and to preserve himself in all occasions, where the service of
Rome was not concern'd. But, Madam, not to detain you with any more circumstances of
Scipio's actions before his departure, you may please to know that the next morning we went out of
Rome, very early in a very brave company; For
Publius was so generally esteemed that the greatest part of the Officers that were yet at
Rome, would goe along with him, as likewise all the volunteers did.
Fabius and
Cato were also of our troop with
Servilius, Flamminius, Marcellus, Lentulus, and many others of that rank; but amongst all that number of gallant persons, there was a most intimate friendship contracted between,
Scipio, Emilius, Regulus and me, which society was so infinitely delectable, that we injoy'd a thousand contentments during our journey. Not but that
Scipio was extreamly inclined to pensiveness and melancholy, if we had not soon observ'd and endeavour'd to divert it, whereby he moderated his anxiety; and became by degrees capable of entertaining a certain aire of joy together with us. For being infinitely amorous, he had nevertheless an unquestionable assurance of possessing the fair person which he lov'd. And that which rendred our pleasure greater, was, that
Aemylius had as great hope of possessing
Papyria, whom he was passsionately enamor'd of, as I had to marry
Attilia. So that we were all happy Lovers excepting
Regulus, who instead of being a Lover, had his heart possessed with hatred, yet he enjoy'd no less satisfaction, since he was going to fight against a Nation whom he hated in perfection. But, Madam, when we arrived at the Army, we found our selves in danger of losing our former contentment, and even ready to fight one against another upon occasion of a contest that happened at a Council of War, which was held assoon as
Publius was arrived. For, you must know, Madam,
Sempronius, who was a person of high courage, but wanted something of the moderation requisite to a great Captain, was absoutely desirous to give battail, fearing lest the new Consuls that were shortly to be created, should come and prevent him of that glory; besides, that he was puft up with the good success that a party of two thousand Roman Horse, had had another of three thousand
Numidians, who were beaten and dispoil'd of a prodigious booty that they were carrying to the Camp of
Hannibal.
Publius on the other side, who was one of those Great men that are satisfied in themselves, both of their own courage, and the goodness of their intentions, and who besides that advantage, enjoy a
[Page 216] solid glory acquir'd by a thousand brave actions, would consider nothing in this occasion but the advantage of
Rome; so that he protested he could not consent to the resolution of his Collegue, and maintain'd it was absolutely important to decline fighting for a time. Then we must decline it for ever (interrupted
Sempronius roughly) for since the two Consuls are joyned together, I think it ought not be declared till a third be created by a Law and sent to our assistance. Say therefore (added he with the same air) that you will wait till you are perfectly cured, vvhich yet I account not very material; for we ought never to consider our particular interest, vvhen the Glory of
Rome is in question. For the same reason (ansvvered
Publius) you ought not to consider yours, as I see you only do; But,
Sempronius (proceeded he fiercely) vve shall see in the fight, vvhether the inconvenience I still am under by reason of my vvounds, vvill retard me from performing the actions of a
Scipio, and whether afterwards you and I may not have a discourse concerning the law of a third Consul you tell me of. In the mean time (added he) endeavouring to moderate himself) in expectation of the end of the battel, I would at present, as Consul of
Rome, draw you from your error, and convince you that it is by no means expedient to fight
Hannibal. For we have intelligence (continued he) that
Mago Bardo is come from
Sicily to joyn with him, and that a considerable number of
Gauls are added to his Army; so that we ought to expect till that numerous Army disperse it self, which in all appearance will shortly come to pass. For,
Italy being still almost intirely ours,
Hannibal will be necessitated continually, in order to getting Ammunitions of War and Provision, to send out parties which our Allies will encounter with; besides that the
Gauls, who make a great part of our enemies forces, will certainly in a short time retire into their own Country; for there is a great measure of impatience peculiar to that Nation, as well as a daring and generous ardor whereby they will become weary of bearing Arms and not using them; and it being very easie for them to retreat, in all probability they will not be slow to do it.
If these words of
Publius did not absolutely convince his Collegue, yet they perswaded the greatest part of the Convention, and even hindered
Sempronius himself, who considered the weight of them, for returning a sharp answer, which would without question have desperately embroiled us. But the unhappiness was, that though
Publius had more partakers, as well as greater reason then his Collegue, yet there were fewer that declared for his opinion; because in that of
Sempronius there was a certain splendor of generosity, which is more powerfully attractive then solid wisdom, that is not alwayes judg'd aright of in Armies, and which we scarce ever dare follow. Wherefore all that
Publius could do, was not to issue forth of his Intrenchments during the time he commanded: but assoon as it came to
Sempronius to give orders, he could not longer continue in his Camp; besides that there was an occasion
[Page 217] offered, which strangely seconded his intention. For
Maharbal and
Mago came in the head of four thousand Horse, to the Gate of the line of our Trenches. Upon which
Sempronius presently summoned four thousand Romans to horse, the command of which he gave to
Scipio and
Regulus. In which preferring of
Scipio before all other Romans, he did justice to his birth and valour, and proceeded generously by making it appear, that if he had contested against
Publius, it was out of no inducement of hatred or envie; nor was it without reason that he preferred
Regulus before many others, for besides that he was a person of infinite courage, he had already more experience in Arms, then the greatest part of his equals in age and quality, and moreover he was used to sue for these kind of emploments with as much earnestly as the most ambitious Roman could do for the office of Consul or Dictator.
Aemylius, Marcellus, Flaminius, and I rang'd our selves with our friends, and resolved to fight under them, as likewise all the volunteers soon after did, and amongst the rest the young
Scipio.
Thus we marched out of our Trenches with such alacrity and promising fierceness, that our party drew the eyes and hearts of our Generals, and excited admiration in all the Army. Though
Scipio were yet indisposed by reason of his wounds, yet I may say he felt then no inconvenience from them; for besides that motion and activeness usually suspends those sorts of pain, the Idea of
Aemilia, and the presence of glory (as I may so speak) had a greater effect then his agitation. I shall forbear to describe to you, Madam, the prodigious valour we admired this day in
Aemilius, and omit also to tell you in what manner
Regulus signalized himself, and what my good fortune enabled me to perform; but being to speak only in relation to
Scipio, I must inform you, Madam, that that Illustrious Roman no sooner perceived that the four thousand Horse under the conduct of
Maharbal and
Mago, made a stand to expect us, but he fell in upon them with an unparallel'd impetuosity: he would use onely his sword, because other weapons could not so well have bin manag'd by his ardour; but he imployed that so couragiously, that he performed miraculous action with it; he dangerously wounded
Maharbal, killed three or four Officers, and at length made our enemies give gronud after a resistance of an honr and half. He drove them back as far as the main body of their Army, which was ready drawn up in battalia, without their Trenches, to come to their relief: and when we observed
Sempronius had done the same for us, that
Hannibal had done for
Maharbal, we charged the right wing of our enemies which was commanded by
Braveus, King of the
Allobroges, because it consisted of Auxiliary forces, and as it hapned,
Pyneus commanded our left wing, and consequently backt his Rival, though he was ignorant of it. But that passionate King knowing that
Aemilius was fighting in the same place, presently came to the head of his squadron, and without delay joyned with us. At which time he performed a thousand brave
[Page 218] actions; so that it would not have bin difficult for us to have beaten those we were engaged with by this re-enforcement, if on a suddain we had not bin called off to run to the succour of
Sempronius and
Publius. But there hapned two or three strange accidents in a moment, which soon lost us the advantage we had gained at first; for
Mago Barsa, with six thousand horse, issued forth of an ambush where
Hannibal had placed them, in moorish places covered with Willows and Poplars, and charge our rear which
Publius commanded, so unexpectedly, that that Illustrious Roman was soon abandoned by his own forces; upon which he endeavoured to fall into the battel where
Sempronius was; but whilst these two Generalls were fighting vvith extraordinary valour, it began of a sudden to snovv, and a strong Wind arose vvhich blevv the snovv in the face and eyes of our Souldiers, so that all these disadvantages, together vvith the prodigious valour of
Hannibal, frustrated the couragious attempts of
Sempronius and
Publius, and caused our Army to retire with a loss sufficiently considerable. 'Tis true, this Victory cost our Enemies dear; for if
Hannibal lost abundance of men in his main battail, his left wing was not much more happy, where
Fabius, Servilius, Cato, and
Lentulus, fought vigorously; and vve had vvithout doubt utterly defeated the right, had not vve also had our particular misfortune. For after
Scipio had performed the gallantest actions that could be done by man, saved the life of
Pyneus, vvounded
Ducarion, vvho vvas an Insubrian of quality, and commanded the forces of his ovvn Nation in
Hannibals Army, and after he had also taken the King of the
Allobroges prisoner, he resolved to go vvhere
Hannibal vvas said to be fighting, presuming that vvas the place vvhere the Romans most needed succour. In order to vvhich commanding
Flavius to carry
Braveus to our Camp, and to take a thousand horse to guard him thither, he endeavoured to charge the Enemies body; but he vvas of a suddain surpris'd to see tvventy Elephants in the front, like so many forts or hideous Bulwarks. We endeavoured to make our Javelotiers on horseback advance against them, because we had no infantry to goad those beasts, and drive them by that means against our Enemies; for it was not very easie for us to kill them: but this was impossible to be done, for their terrible bulks so affrighted our horse, that they could not be made approach them. Wherefore we were constrained to draw off: and being forced to fight to open our selves a passage, we could not reach where we intended, till our Army was retreating in sufficient disorder. 'Tis impossible for me to represent to you the grief we resented for this inprosperous enterprise; and indeed, being almost all wounded, for a good time we thought only of lamenting our unhappiness, without considering to get our wounds dressed.
It is not necessary I should tell you the particulars of our loss, or that
Cato and the King of
Illyria were taken prisoners by the Enemies, and afterwards exchanged for the King of the
Allobroges
[Page 219] (whom
Flavius had conducted to the Camp with very much dexterity and valour) and
Ducarion, whom
Aemylius had likewise caused to be conducted thither; 'tis sufficient, Madam, you have bin informed in what manner we gave battail at
Trebia, and how the Romans were unfortunately overcome, notwithstanding the great actions of
Scipio and
Aemylius, and all our Illustrious Gallants that follow'd them, and intimated them in that famous occasion.
Publius and
Sempronius performed wonders there, and this latter quitted the resentment he had kept against his Collegue, after the loss of the battel; for he had kept it indeed (notwithstanding his civility to
Scipio) by reason of the words which
Publius answered him in the Council of War; and he also caused
Publius to quit the sentiment which he still retained; for he went to visit him at his Tent, desired his pardon for not having followed his opinion, and protested to him with more respect then his dignity and fierceness seemed to permit, that it was to go against Rome, to go against the opinion of such a Roman as
Publius. The Illustrious Father of
Scipio received the complement of
Sempronius, with very many testimonies of acknowledgement and esteem, and having returned his civilitie, they went both together to encourage their Souldiers who were still terrified, and to put all things in a readiness, that they might stoutly repel the
Carthaginians, in case they should attempt to fall upon our Works. But for that the losses they suffered were not inferiour to ours, they had no thought to pursue us. After this there passed nothing memorable, till the Creation of the new Consuls, who were the Fathers of
Flaminius and
Servilius. But, Madam, not to insist punctually in relating things you are unquestiably not ignorant of, since all the world knows them, and not to detain you with describing the losses we suffered in
Italy; I am only to tell you, that after the battel of
Trebia, Publius prepared himself to go to his Government of
Spain, where his brother
Cnaeus was arrived long since.
Scipio's sorrow was redoubled, when he considered that he was going to be further removed from the
Aemilia; and because he saw it was impossible for him to go to Rome, he writ to that fair person, and encharged
Fabius with his Letter, using all the motives he thought capable to cause him to make the greatest diligence and speediest return, because he knew he would bring him an answer from
Aemilia, that divine Lady having had the goodnesse to passe him a promise to that purpose. And accordingly
Scipio had the satisfaction he hoped for; He found in
Aemylia's Letter very many evidences of her esteem, and could discern in it a certain tenderness which that discreet Virgin had as it were obscured in terms that seemed to be only modest and obliging. By which means, of all the inquietudes wherewith the violent passion that possessed him, is usually accompanied, he resented at that time only that which was caused by absence.
In the name of the Gods,
Laelius (interrupted
Nadalia) repeat us
[Page 220] those two Letters; for I confesse, I passionately desire to hear a kind one of the Illustrious
Emilia. Sincerely, fair
Nadalia (answered he) I am sorry I cannot satisfie you at this time; but I protest to you, that I did not read
Emilia's answer often enough to be able to remember it, because it hapned that I did not see that of
Scipio. But be not dissatisfied, Madam, I beseech you; for in the Narration I am to make, hapned so many different events, that there will be also in it Letters of as many different strains. After these words, observing
Nadalia has no more to interrupt him with, he pursued his discourse in this manner.
I am telling you, Madam, that
Scipio upon his departure from
Italy, resented onely the inquietude that absence gives passionate Lovers; and I can moreover assure you, that he was not discontented to hear that
Varro and
Minutius were so highly ingraciated with the people, that they might reasonably pretend to the most considerable offices. For we understood that as wounded as they were, they desired, or at least made semblance to desire that they might be carryed to
Sempronius's Camp before he fought the battel of
Trebia, that the people withstood their purpose, admired their generosity, and according to the genius of other Nations, augmented a certain blind and indiscreet ardor they were before possest with; for persons who had lately dazled their e
[...]es by something that surprised them. We also understood that after the loss of that battail, they had given great sums of money towards the levying of forces, and in brief, had omitted nothing that might promote their advancement to some splendid dignity, so to cover the obscurity of their descent. And you shall hear, Madam, in the sequel of my discourse, that they attained that, but too soon for the misfortune of
Rome, whereunto their ambition aspir'd. I shall omit to tell you with what preparations
Publius departed from
Italy, as well as the particular circumstances of his voyage, there being none remarkable enough in it to deserve your attention. When we were arriv'd in
Spain (for you may judge, Madam, I may speak in that manner, and was with my Illustrious friend) we understood
Himilcon was set forth from
Carthage with a good number of ships, and was coming to re-enforce the Naval Army of our Enemies, of which he was Commander; upon
Publius resolving to oppose
Himilcon, left the other Army to his brother
Cnaeus to withstand
Asdrubal, Barsa, and appointed
Scipio and me his Lieutenants General,
Caeneus had already his Son, surnamed
Nasica, and a Roman Knight named
Martius.
You have without doubt heard by fame, with what success the
Scipio fought in
Spain, and you cannot but know that under those Illustrious Romans, our Eagles flew there both by Sea and Land, the Carthaginian Forces being not able to stop them. You also know, that
Hamilcon and
Asrubal were beaten, that
Publius and
Cnaeus conquered a part of
Spain, that they founded the City of
Taragona there, and lastly made alliances very advantageous to the
[Page 221] Romans. But for that perhaps you have not known the particular actions of
Scipio, I should be obliged to make you a relation of them, if I did not think it more requisite to assure you in few words, that he was the person that contributed most to the acquisition of the Victories which the Romans gain'd, that he perform'd actions that fill'd me with astonishment, and that he was several times in the Army of
Cnaeus to serve in it, and consequently render it victorious, when he had put that of his Father in a posture not to fear the enterprises of the Enemies. And indeed it was extreamly necessary, that this young
Heroe should do all those great actions to repair in some manner the losses we suffered in other places; for our Armies had successes very contrary in
Italy. When the fame of our Victories was spread abroad in
Rome, Rome was no more then a desolated City, it was in a strange general consternation; the death of
Flaminius, was publiquely known with the loss of his Army; and, in a word, tydings was meerly brought thither of the events of the battel at the Lake of
Thrasymene, which I shall not relate to you, being certain they are known throughout the whole world. I shall also silently pass over, that at that time they were constrained to create a Dictator, and that
Fabius was the person chosen to that charge, namely the Father of him that was amorous of
Aemylia, who with the surname of Most-Great, gain'd also that of the shield of the people of
Rome.
These memorble passages are unknown to none, no more then that
Minutius was made General of the Horse of the Dictators Army, that he was afterwards equaliz'd to him in Authority, beaten by
Hannibal, and relieved by the Illustrious
Fabius; and at length deposed himself from the Magistrates, and would fight no longer but under the orders of the Dictator. Its also well known that
Fabius was called the Delayer, because instead of fighting
Hannibal, he still declin'd the encounter, but it was with a destructive design to our enemies, whom he held besieged by possessing himself alwayes of the high places that commanded the plain. So that the Carthaginians being no longer able to send forth parties to forrage for provisions which they frequently wanted, their wilely General was constrained to make use of the Oxen of his Army, for opening a passage for his Army in the manner you have heard reported, and posterity will without question admire. But, Madam, if we were surprised in hearing of the advancement of
Minutius, we were much more strangely at that of
Varro, who sometime after that I am speaking of, was to our unhappiness created Consul with the Illustrious Father of
Aemylia.
Scipio suddenly admired the capriciousness of our Nation, but being willing afterwards to excuse their proceeding, he told me with a sincere and heroical generosity, that perhaps
Varro had since our departure acquir'd the moderation and other virtues he wanted at our being there, that at least he passionately wished it was so, and that the people of
Rome might not have cause to repent the choice
[Page 222] they had made. But, alas! we, and all the earth, too soon understood that
Varro was not at all amended, that he was alwayes violent and void of conduct, and that the headiness of his humour in a short time rendred the plains of
Cannae famous by the dreadfull over-throw he occasioned the Roman there. We no sooner understood that in
Italy the two Consular Armies were to unite to make one notorious encounter for the driving the Carthaginians from thence; but
Scipio determined to go thither. For seeing the affairs of
Spain were in a matter quiet, he could not continue there, and especially when he saw that by passing into
Italy, he might render some service to
Lucius or
Aemylius, or at least might partake in the dangers they were going to adventure in.
Publius had a strange repugnance to suffer us to depart; but he consented to it, being pressed by the intreaties of his Illustrious Son. Wherefore we departed as soon as possibly we could, and omitted no diligence till we rendered our selves at
Lucius's Camp. I remember that in our first enterview, the Illustrious father of
Aemylia embraced
Scipio a long time in his arms, and then having caressed me almost in the same manner, he told us, the inconsiderate humour of
Varro was more formidable to him then the valour of
Hannibal, and that in all probability that Roman would do more mischief to Rome then all the Forces of Carthage. But as he was continuing his discourse, and informing us of the state of affairs,
Servilius, who had bin Consul the year before,
Aemylius, Regulus and
Cato, entered into the room, and brake off the conversation by the civilities and caresses they made to us and
Lucius, gave way for us to receive. We were afterwards astonish'd to hear, that the next morning the battel was to be given, and that
Varro wished for fight with as much impatience as the Great
Fabius had avoided it with wisdom. But, in brief, it could not be avoided, but all the Souldiers of the Plebeian Consul (so they styl'd
Varro) were absolutely for what their Chief desired, apparently incited to it by the false glory of their insolent Captain, and the false-apprehended limidity of the Illustrious
Lucius. What need I tell you, Madam, since all the world knows it is but too true, that the bad genius of Rome, and the temerity of
Varro caused us to give that fatal battel, and suffer those dreadful losses, which without doubt posterity will not hear of but with astonishment? Yes, Madam, we gave that bloody battel; and as if the good fate of
Carthage had not bin well enough seconded by the adventurous blindness of
Varro, the subtilties of
Hannibal must needs bear a part in that disasterous victory. For he drew up his forces in such a manner, that ours were exposed to the disadvantages of the wind and sun, by which they were so cruelly inconvenienc'd, that we not only could not overcome our enemies, nor so much as fight, but remain'd expos'd to their blows without knowing which way to ward them off. Not, but that for all these inconveniences,
Scipio surpassed himself, in performances exceeding all belief, and that
Aemylius did wonders, and that all the Illustrious
[Page 223] Romans I have mentioned to you, signaliz'd themselves gloriously; but in fine, all their endeavours were not capable to resist an Army of an hundred thousand disciplin'd Veterans, conducted by a great Captain, and who besides all these advantages, had all that scituation of places for such bloody encounters could afford. So that, Madam, in this fatal field, besides so many thousand of Souldiers that perished, we lost an infinite number of Knights and Senators, we lost
Servilius who had bin Collegue with
Flaminius; but, alas! that which afflicted us most sensibly, was the loss of the Illustrious and infortunate
Lucius, who was unfortunately slain in the rout. Ah! Madam, how can I recount to you the circumstances of this deplorable death? The Illustrious
Lucius beholding all was lost on our side, resolved not to out-live this day; but yet to dye gloriously, he sought out
Hannibal to fight him, he thrnst himself where-ever he saw the greatest danger, and in a word, the greatness of his courage made him perform actions little different from those of
Scipio and
Aemilius. But, alas! how fatal was that excessive valour to him! For as this great person was upon the point to charge
Hannibal, his Horse was slain under him, and not losing his judgement, he disentangled himself from the stirrups, and fought on foot very vigorously, till at length he received three or four wounds at the same time, which enforced him to retire out of the fight. We presently received information of his misfortunne, and
Scipio, Aemilius, Sempronius, Regulus, and my self redoubled our endeavours to get to him and relieve him. But as we were upon the point to do it, we were prevented by an extream strange and unhappy accident. For
Lucius being wounded in the manner I have told you, was sat down with his face turn'd towards the enemies, holding his sword in his hand, which he still lift up as often as his faintness would permit him: When
Lentulus, who fought near that place, seeing him in so deplorable a condition, alighted, and presented his Horse to him; Here, my Lord (said he to him) make use of my horse to preserve a life so necessary to our Republique. I thank you
Lentulus (answered he faintly, and yet in a manner that shewed his gratitude) do you preserve your self from
Rome? I beseech you, save your self, and leave an infortunate person to dye, who will not survive the desolation of his Country. They who beheld
Lentulus's action alighted also, to go succour their Illustrious General, and likewise the Horsemen that were at some distance doing the same, upon a mistake that they were commanded to fight on foot (which was a case not without example) this strange and lamentable accident hapned just as we are approaching to
Lucius, so that we suddenly beheld above a thousand Horses loose, which made a horrible disorder, and were an obstacle impossible for us to break through. Yet we endeavoured to open our selves a passage; but as we are using all our diligence to that purpose, a body of our enemies Cavalry falling upon those of our Horsemen that were alight, easily cut them in pieces, and afterwards driving back both
[Page 224] the Horsemen and the Horses, and all that was in their passage, we were unhappily carried along with the crowd; and had the grief to see that apparantly, the body of
Lucius had bin trampled by the feet of the Horses. It is impossible, Madam, fully to represent to you the greatness of the resentment of
Scipio and
Aemylius or what they perform'd when dispair came to be added to their ordinary valour; I shall onely tell you that they had undoubtedly perisht, if that which was most likely to contribute to their ruine had not saved them. For being left but about ten or twelve thousand men of all our brave and numerous Army, we were soon surrounded by that of
Hannibal, who had still above fourscore thousand. Upon which
Sempronius and
Appius desirous to preserve the remainder of our fortunate Troops, cryed out to
Scipio and
Aemylius, that they should not fight where they did, but put themselves in the head of
Romanes that were left, and save them by opening a passage through the enemies, and so recovering a way for their retreat.
Scipio and
Aemylius, either for that they were still capable of that Roman constancy that induces to prefer the interest of our Country before all others, or that their grief resembling their disposition, was more effective to carry them to great actions, then unprofitable complaints, by adding the desire of revenge to that of Glory; However it were, they put themselves in the head of the ten or tvvelve thousand men I mentioned, and notvvithstanding the vvounds they had already received, made themselves a passage vvith their svvords, and carried their party to
Cannusium, as the vvorld has heard and highly commended
Sempronius for being the Author of that attempt. But, Madam, at
Cannusium, these two Illustrious Romans manifested all the tenderness of their souls, and abandoned themselves wholly to grief, when the body of
Lucius was brought to them, which they had presently sent to
Hannibal to demand. I say, when the body of
Lucius was brought to them, without denoting to you the circumstances of a time which was wholly a time of affliction, I shall also omit to describe to you the consternation that was seen at Rome;
Cannusium, and all the Cities of our allies, chusing rather to pass that over in silence which I should fall infinitely short in representing, herein imitating a famous Painter, who drew a vail over those countenances whose extream sadness he believ'd beyond the power of his Pensil to express. I presume you have known, Madam, that the ten thousand men whom we led to
Cannusium, with the common consent both of Officers and Souldiers, chose the Illustrious
Scipio to command them, and
Appius with him, because he was
Scipoi's kinsman, and had bin, together with
Sempronius, author of the enterprise that saved them, as I have told you; and lastly, because they would either preserve an order which resembled that of their usual command, namely, the having of two Consuls which were two Generals, or to favour
Scipio, who they saw was considerably wounded. But for what reasons soever it was, they chose
Appius with his Illustrious Kinsman,
[Page 225] although there were then at
Cannusium, an infinite number of persons considerable both for their descents and employments; for excepting
Varro, Fabius, Flaminius, and
Marcellus, who took their way towards
Rome, all the remainder of brave and Illustrious persons was retired to
Cannusium with us. For
Aemilias, Sempronius, Fabius, Regulus, Cato, Leutulus, and too many others were there, but wounded as well as we. 'Tis true, the Illustrious
Scipio had little mind to think of his cure, for his soul was wholly taken up with his own grief, and the apprehension of that which he foresaw the adorable
Aemilia would resent when the doleful news of the death of her illustrious fore-father, should be reported to her. Yet this extream affliction did not absolutely hinder him from taking care of the troops which were put under his conduct in so obliging a manner. And indeed, when we were determining to cause the body of
Lucius to be carried to Rome, notice was brought us that divers young Romans of chief quality resolved to abandon
Italy, and seek a Sanctuary in some remote Country; we were informed
Metellus was the author of that Cabal, and it was at his quarte
[...]s that the complotters were assembled. Upon which,
Scipio, as all the world as all the world has heard, went to
Metellus's his lodgings, and being transported by his grief, the greatness of his courage, and zeal for his Country, drew his sword as he entered alone into a Hall where there were about forty men assembled, and looking upon them one after another, with a fierce and scornful aspect, mixt with terror and sorrow, I come hither (cryed he to them) to know who those unworthy persons are that intend to abandon Rome, and go seek and infamous safety in another Country; I come to make them renounce so horrible a design; or to punish them my self at this instant: and if you are all of this detestable complot (added he, beholding them with greater fierceness, and lifting up his arm) and will not alter your resolution, know I have drawn this sword onely against you, which I will never sheath till I have washt it in your blood, till I have slain you all, and till I have reveng'd my Country. Yes (added he again) I will kill you all, if you have taken up so infamous a resolution as you are accus'd of; for if you are capable of such cowardises, you vvill not without doubt be capable to resist ont
Scipio all together.
He had scarce pronounced these words, but all the assembly vvas not onely astonished, but so terrified at them, that there was none of them that answer
[...] in the name of the rest. Our young Hero vva
[...] nevertheless not satisfied by having frightned such a multitude; but perceiving that speaking to all, no particular person thought himself obliged to answer; he advanced fiercely tovvards
Metellus, vvho vvas said to be the author of so black a desiggn; he seized with one hand on his Coat of armour, and lifting up his sword vvith the other; 'Tis to you,
Metellus (cryed he vvith a menacing accent) that I address, as he that has engaged all this company in so detestable an enterprise; but you must either perish at this moment (added
[Page 226] he) or swear before the immortal Gods, that you will cease to live before you vvill cease to serve
Rome. Metellus vvas much more terrified by this last action and words of
Scipio, then he had bin by his first menaces; so that seeing himself so streightly urged, he accordingly svvore at length, and after him all his companions svvore also in the manner that
Scipio required.
After this action vvhich made so great a report in the vvorld, our Illustrious Roman vvent to
Aemilius's quarters, vvhere he vvas visited by the principal Officers of his Troops, vvho had bin there before to make there complements to
Aemilius upon the death of
Lucius. Scipio received them vvith all the civility that the publick and his particular affliction could permit him; and having aftervvards recommended to them the constancy of true Romans to their death, he desired
Appius, vvho also came to
Emilius some moments after, to take care alone of the Troops vvhich they commanded, telling him there vvas a necessity upon himself to go to
Rome, in relation to an affair of highest importance. So vve departed the next morning from
Cannusium, and caused the body of
Lucius to be carried to
Rome, vvhich vve accompanied with all the Romans of quality, whose wounds were not considerable enough to oblige them to keep the bed. But, Madam, if I have not bin able to describe to you the affliction of
Scipio and
Emilius; how is it possible for me to represent that which
Claudia and her adorable daughter resented upon our arrival? 'Tis beyond all the power of words to do; and you may please onely to let me tell you, that the constancy of
Claudia abandoned her in this occasion, that this desolate Lady was not capable of remembring that at least the death of her Illustrious
Lucius was glorious, that as truly Romans as she was, she forgot for some time the losses of the Common wealth, only to think of that of her own house, and in a word, that she so absolutely resign'd her self up to her sorrow, that she caused all those to weep who endeavoured to stop the flood of her tears. Not, that she presently fell to violent weeping; for her grief was of such a nature, that it could not so express it self; for she was seen to embrace
Emilius, and close him fast in her arms during more then a quarter of an hour, without being able either to speak or lament. Nor did she let her dear Son go, before she was several times advertised that he was wounded; and as she beheld him retiring, that he might not shew her the excess of his affliction, Ah! my son (said she to him lamentingly) you have now no longer a father! This, Madam, was all
Claudia was able to speak to
Aemilius in that first interview.
Scipio, who intended to make a reverence to her, could not do it at first, so vigorously was he seiz'd with sorrow himself, because he perceiv'd the adorable
Aemilia was infinitely afflicted; who being met in the passage by her Illustrious brother, they embraced one another, and expressed so many tokens of a real dearness, and an extream affliction that all the spectators were yet more deeply affected with it. How then, Madam, could
Scipio be Master of his
[Page 227] grief, since there was no person in the company, but shewed as much sadness, as if every one of them had lost some very near relation in the person of
Lucius. It must also be confessed, that
Aemylia alone might have drawn tears from persons that had the least disposition to tenderness; for could any without being deeply affected, have beheld a young and fair person, whose extream grief appeared upon her countenance only by a faint languor, which rendred it infinitely moving, and yet withal made it evident, that she was far more sensibly sorrowful, then those that express themselves in Acclamations and transport. Besides,
Aemilia's beauty being of a fair complexion, the brightness of it was undoubtedly heighned by the mourning attire that is usually worn in the like occasions. So that it was impossible, as I have said, to behold a person so fair and so afflicted without, presently resenting all the motions of tenderness that compassion and grief are capable to excite. But, Madam, it will be no exaggeration to say, that the affliction of my Illustrious friend was beyond all that others suffer in such losses; for he was not able to speak to
Claudia, when he made his reverence to her, though that Illustrious Lady embraced his head a long time togegether, which he bowed down out of respect, and told him that she lost much more in the death of
Lucius then he believ'd, because he he had bin lov'd by him above what he imagin'd. But, Madam, when this afflicted Lover was to approach to
Aemilia, he found it was impossible for him; so that after having made a thousand offers which proved unprofitable, he was constrained to go away without making a reverence to that afflicted beauty; so true it is, that he could not be master of his grief, having cast his eyes upon the divine countenance he was infinitely enamour'd of. When we departed from
Claudia's house, we went to that of my father, who losing not much time in testifying to us the sensible joy he resented to see us return from a battel, where it was believ'd all were perished, caused us presently to be led to a bed, and having taken order for our wounds, and some convenient repast for us, went forth of our Chamber to leave us to take repose. But, Madam, how little was
Scipio capable of keeping any! For his mind was wholly filled with
Aemilia, and his affliction. He sigh'd every other moment, and his sleep was interrupted frequently by the image of that fair person; he believed every thing be beheld lookt gashly, and resented so lively a sorrow after the sight of that of
Aemilia, that he imagin'd all things had changed their aspect, or at least ought to have changed it by the affliction of that divine person. Whereby, Madam, this grief of
Scipio destroyed that little health his travels and wounds had left him, and cast him into a long and languishing disease, during which we had either hope or fear according to the different relations that persons which visited him brought him concerning
Aemilia, though without knowing the high interest he had therein. But at length we knew by the amendment of his distempers, that there was some mitigation in the sorrow of
Claudia and
[Page 228]
Aemilia; and as if Love had been as well Master of his body, as it was certainly of his heart, his health returned assoon as
Aemilius was in a condition to go and see him; inasmuch as he gave him assurances of his happiness, by confirming to him in the name of
Claudia, the promise that
Lucius had made him.
Claudia visited him some dayes after her self; for besides that, we were lodged at my fathers house, the Ladies not onely made no difficulties at this time to visit those that were returned wounded from the Army; but they wholly addicted themselves for a good time to that pious imployment; so that according to what was told us by those that saw it, it was the most sad spectacle in the world to meet frequently companies of Ladies, and those of the most Illustrious, coming forth of one house drying their tears, and entering into another, where they were sure to find a new occasion to weep: for you may judge, Madam, such visits were not made without the recounting of some of the particulars of that fatal battel we had lately lost; But if
Claudia's visit corroborated a health that
Aemilius had in a manner reviv'd, I may say the adorable
Aemilia absolutely confirmed it by an obliging answer she returned to a Letter writ to her by
Scipio, assoon as he was able to do it. The amorous
Scipio had written with all the passion that he could express in keeping nevertheless a certain decorum, which the condition affairs were then in, obliged him to observe more exactly then a contrary conjuncture could: for if a time of rejoycing seems in a manner to be consecrated to love, and consequently to give us a certain liberty of expressing the sentiments that noble passion inspires us with, a time of mourning is destinated onely for tears; and it seems to be irregular and unsutable to speak of other then sad subjects, and such as serve not to feed the miserable passion that is then predominant, and that with the consentment of the sufferers. But
Rome was not in this consternation so long a time, as it was apparent she would have been; for intelligence was brought, that
Hannibal was gone to
Capua in stead of prosecuting his Victory, and that in
Spain the two
Scipios, Publius and
Cnaeus had almost utterly defeated the
Carthaginians, with the confederates they had in that Country. My Illustrious friend received this last news with extream satisfaction, and moderated the regret he had for not partaking in that Victory, when he understood his brother and his kinsman
Nasica had highly signaliz'd themselves as well as the brave
Martius, for whom he had already many sentiments of esteem and friendship. But as it seems, that Illustrious persons are never unhappy by halves, this news that
Scipio received, served onely to suspend his affliction for a time, to the end his mind might be more sensible of the grief, which he was afterwards to be cruelly assaulted with. For within a short space after the tydings of the death of
Publius, and that of
Cnaeus were brought him; and he also led their Armies, whereby defeated, after gaining of the last battel they fought, if
Martius had not preserved them by an admirable conduct. Verily, the constancy
[Page 229] of
Scipio was found too weak to support this last stroke of misfortune; and this Illustrious Roman, whose soul was as tender in these kind of accidents, as unmovable in other occasions, could not think of the loss new befallen him, without lamenting in so sensible a manner, that it moved the hearts of all that came to see him, and evidently discovered the greatness of his affliction. But when I was alone in his Chamber, he abandoned himself much more to his grief; for walking up and down there, he recalled into his mind all circumstances that could augment it, he reflected on the extraordinary merit of
Publius, and discoursed to me of it, and then recounting a thousand testimonies of dearness he had received from him, he suddenly stopt, and lifting up his eyes to heaven, dispatch, cruel destiny (cryed he) accomplish thy fury, unmerciful fate! and since 'tis not enough to afflict me to make me see
Italy ruinated by
Hannibal, to make me see
Lucius dead,
Aemilia afflicted, and destroy
Publius and
Cnaeus in
Spain, while I am at
Rome, to the end they may not receive the assistance they might require of him. I would not interrupt these complaints of
Scipio, least I should augment the violence of his grief by causing him to restrain it; so that walking with him, I observed that after having a little mused upon what he had sad said, he lift up his eyes again to Heaven, and following the motions of piety that all the world admires in him, he sighed, and then cast down his eyes, as if to desire pardon of the Gods for his transport, for to submit himself intirely to their providence.
Aemilius about this time entered into the Chamber where we were, not standing upon the caution that forbids persons that have endured great losses to make visits of this nature. For his own grief did not hinder him from resenting that of
Scipio, of which he gave so apparent tokens, that he seem'd by an undesired gratitude to repay our Illustrious Mourner what he before received from him; and indeed I think never two persons gave testimonies of a real dearness with more regret in the like occasions. Yet they could have no great conversation together, by reason of the great company that began that day to visit
Scipio, who came so numerously during seven or eight dayes, that it was impossible in that time for his best friends to entertain him in the manner they desired; for not only men of quality came thither, but likewise almost all the Ladies, those that were young and fair, being accompanied by some relation of elder age. Yet
Claudia was not there, either for that her mourning dipens'd with her for making that visit, or by reason of some indisposition that hindered her; but she sent every day to enquire of his health, in so obliging a manner, that without doubt he preferr'd those complements above all the honours that accompanied the visits that were made him by others. Wherefore
Scipio was extreamly desirous to wait upon her with his remerciments, and see her afflicted daughter, which she did, as soon as seemliness could permit him.
Aemylius, who came that day to our house, went thither with
[Page 230] him; and for that at his going in, he was told
Claudia could not be seen without disturbance to her, he had
Scipio to the Chamber of his Sister, where he tarried not long but left him. This passionate Lover notwithstanding his grief, could not hinder himself from beholding
Aemylia with all the tokens of a violent Love, so that this discreet Lady fearing least he should mention a passion to her that was not very conformable to her present state, beheld him with an air that sufficiently shewed the greatness of her affliction, and having suffered some tears to fall from her fair eyes: Alas!
Scipio (said he to him) your presence would soon remind me of the death of the unfortunate
Lucius, could I be unnatural enough to forget it; for though you had not lately suffered a less resembling mine, yet there are many circumstances which would not cease to represent to me the greatness of my misfortune, 'Tis true, Madam, answered he sighing) that we have suffered equal losses. But, Madam, (added he) with an air extreamly passionate) since they are inseparable, I find so much sweetness in being miserable while you are not happy, that the resemblance certainly lightens part of my affliction. Ah!
Scipio (replyed she) you consider not well what you say, for if you reflected both on the publique and the private affliction that we ought to resent, you would unquestionably not imagine there was any thing left to lighten part of your grief. Ah! Madam (answered he) you little understand me, if you can believe I speak before you without considering what I say; and you little imagine what passes in my heart, when you believe that grief alone can intirely possess it. For indeed, Madam, when I revolve in my mind the desolation of
Italy, the consternation of
Rome, the death of
Lucius whom I honoured infinitely, and that of a father▪ who was infinitely dear to me, I should without question dye with grief, if I did not immediately consider there was something left me more estimable then
I
[...]aly, Rome, and all the Kingdoms of the earth, something more dear then
Lucius, then
Publius, and then all my relations and friends; which is, Madam, (continued he, after having beheld her after a manner perfectly passionate and moving) the passion which I have for the fairest person in the world. Yes, Madam (added he again, preventing
Aemylia from interrupting him) that passion alone makes the felicity of my life, and being not dependant on the Empire of Fortune, I may say the dominion of that inconstant Goddess extends not to the greatness of all my happinesses, and that it is impossible for her to hinder me from living and dying happy, because she cannot hinder me from living and dying the adorer of
Aemilia.
These last words of
Scipio mightily perplexed the fair person that heard them, because if she considered 'twas a lover perfectly illustrious that pronounced them, and that with infinite respect, and a passion generally approved by all her relations, she withal feared to offend against virtue, or at least against seemlinesse, if she should be capable to hear a discourse concerning other subjects then that of
[Page 231] her affliction; wherefore she took a way of answering
Scipio without wholly checking his sentiments which she could not condemn, or infringing a certain severity she believed her self obliged to observe during this time of sadness. But as she was going to speak, one came to tell
Scipio from
Aemilius, that
Claudia was awak'd and would be glad to see him, so that this passionate Lover was constrained to part from the person he loved, without knowing her sentiments upon what he had spoken. Indeed when he made her a profound reverence, and beheld her eyes to consult her mind from thence, he had the satisfaction not to see any signs of hatred in them, and he was willing to flatter himself by believing, that if he observed not the contrary passion in them, it was grief alone that hindered it to appear in the places were it self had taken up its jurisdiction. This flattering thought tempered part of his sorrow, and even inspired him afterwards with more confident sentiments then his affliction seemed to permit him: for he came suddenly to imagine, that perhaps
Claudia might consent to the consummation of his marriage forthwith, that in probability she would not insist on the severe policy of
Lucius, and that especially the absence of
Pynaeus was a very favourable conjuncture for it. Besides, that if that King, whose sole interest had occasioned the deferring of his happiness, was gone into
Illyria to make new Levies there; his other Rivals were as little able to prejudice his pretensions,
Fabius having not yet declared his, and
Varro reduc'd to a condition, disabling him to proceed with his former addresses. Upon which considerations the passionate
Scipio determined to request
Claudia to consent to render him happy: but assoon as he was entered into her Chamber with
Aemilius, he was was far from being able to declare his design, his grief, which had been onely suspended by the presence of
Aemilia, resuming its former violence from the sight of that of
Claudia; so that the conversation was extreamly sad, and being onely employ'd upon the subject of over-throws, deaths and desolations, it fill'd the imagination of the three afflicted persons that were ingaged in it, notwithstanding but the images of Urns, Ashes, Tombs and Funerals. But
Scipio was no sooner come away with
Aemylius from
Claudia, then
Aemilia returned again into his mind, and dispelled thence by her lustre part of that gloomy humour, a mournful discourse had possessed him with, so that he was again in a condition of thinking of the means to render himself happy, and resolved to discover his sentiments to
Aemilius, as the onely person who might best do him a favour in this important occasion. Yet he received not from him that satisfaction he desired; for
Aemilius weighing the matter without passion, answered him, that it was not time to think of celebrating his marriage, that though the interest of
Pynaeus were not annexed to that of Rome, their families had lately suffered too considerable losses, to constrain the deferring the accomplishment of such a Treaty. To which he added so much reason, that
Scipio was convinced of what he alledged; besides that of a sudden
[Page 232] this generous Lover came to think that he was obliged to go and revenge the death of
Publius, and acquire a glory that might not onely encourage him to demand in a more noble way that of the possessing of
Aemilia, but give occasion to
Rome for some of those extraordinary rejoycings that seemed necessary to a marriage of that importance. In which heroical design being fully confirmed, he departed, and with all speed betook himself to demand the Goverment, and command of the Armies of
Spain, and obtained the same, as you have unquestionably heard, thongh he; had not yet arrived to the age required thereunto by our Laws. Thus, Madam, we are going to see
Scipio marching to Victory with a more firm and glorious place, and we shall soon see him a conqueror, because we shall see him General; and moreover, we shall remark what has hitherto bin unknown, that love will have a greater share in the brave actions he is going to perform, then either ambition or the interest of his Country. I shall not detain you, Madam, with any particulars preceding our departure, as the equipage of my friend, which shewed both his magnificence and his affliction, the Levies he caused to be made to recruit the Troop; which were scarce any thing more then the Reliques of an Army, nor with the last conversation he made with
Aemilia. I shall content my self with telling you that their separation was not without expressions infinitely dear and extreamly heroical, and that
Scipio left the Palace of
Claudia with so great regret, and yet with so noble an ardor, that it was not difficult to remark in his countenance a mixture of fierceness, love, and sorrow. After which, he speedily took order for all things requisite to his voyage; and having had the goodness to tell me he would give me the command of one of the two Armies; we departed from Rome embarqued, and without the arrival of anp accident that deserves relation, happily landed with thirty ships of War at the Port of
Emporia, from whence we went to
Taragona, the to hold a Council of War, and receive the Embassadors of our Allies.
Nevertheless, these Military affairs did not hinder
Scipio from resenting a sensible sorrow, when he considered how far remote he was from
Aemilia, and in a Country where his Father and Uncle had bin slain. But if this circumstace of place reduc'd into his mind the death of those two men, it was more lively represented to him by the presence of his young brother, and that of his kinsman
Nasica, whom we found at
Tarrogona. It was in this City that
Scipio intended to add to the immortal glory of
Publius and
Cnaeus, the magnificence of Monuments, which he did with so much sorrow, that I esteemed his affliction infinitely more valuable then the marble and porpliry which he caused to be employed in the Work. Nevertheless, if, as I said, the Offices of a General did not hinder him from performing the duty of a Son, his piety did as little hinder him from discharging that of Captain of an Army. Wherefore he drew his Forces into the field, assoon as he judg'd himself
[Page 233] in a posture to march against
Asdrubal, who had made a confederacy with the Kings of
Celtiberia, and the
Illergetes, and was moreover advantaged by the valour of
Lucius Prince of
Celtiberia, who was deeply enamoured on the Princess of the
Illergetes, for whose sake he was come into
Spain. Hereupon
Scipio resolved to fight those three Confederates, whose Army was indeed gallant and numerous, and left the Naval Forces to be commanded by me, with a satisfaction that was so
[...]n abated by the necessity of our separation. I should have a thousand things to tel you of the great actions performed by this admirable General, were they not already sufficiently published by fame, And I might also tell you by the way, that I had the happiness to give chase to all the
Carthaginian ships that appeared upon the Coast which I guarded, and at length we gave battel to
Himilcon, in which I came off not ingloriously. But, Madam▪ neither was any thing that I perform'd, or the young
Scipio, N
[...]si
[...]a, Martius, and
Syllarus, though persons of eminent valour, in any measure comparable to the actions of our Hero: he beat
Asdrubal, took prisoner
Mangonius King of the
Illergetes, and in spight of the opposition of
Lucius (who is one of the valiantest Princes of the world, and was dangerously wounded in this encounter) cut in pieces part of their Army, put the other to flight, and to compleat the terror of the
Spaniards, resolved upon the siege of their capital City, the new
Carthage, which was without doubt one of the fairest, richest, and strongest Cities of
Europe. I being at that time not far distant from
Scipio, he was pleased to require my judgment upon the resolution he had made, in order to which I was no sooner come to him upon his summons, but he called a Council of War. But we scarce assembled to deliberate what course to take in this important enterprise, but we beheld a man enter, whose sadness presently affected
Scipio, and caused him to advance towards the door of the chamber to enquire the cause of his coming, and his melancholy. What intelligence do you bring us
Valerius, said he to him? (for he was a person that belonged to
Emilius) Is it any bad newes of
Claudia, your Master, or—he was not able to pronounce the name of
Emilia before one that came from her, and sad too. I left
Claudia and
Aemilia in good health (answered he) but, my Lord, the case is not so well with my Master, who is wounded and prisoner in no
Carthage. How?
Aemylius prisoner, and wounded? (cryed
Scipio with great surprise, although with less grief then he would have resented, if he had not before heard good tydings of
Aemylia) 'Tis most certain, he is so, my Lord, (answered he) and to tell you in few words the circumstances of this misfortune, you may please to know that my Master would not go with you from
Rome, fearing least the alliance which is shortly to be between you, might induce you to offer him the most eminent employments even to the prejudice of
Laelius; for which reason not to cast you into the necessity of being deficient either in relation to love or friendship, he would not discover to you that he intended to serve under you, and staid
[Page 234] till you had given your friend and your relations the most important charges before he would come to joyn with you; And he no sooner understood that
Laelius was to command the Naval Army, and that you had also disposed of the eminentest places, but he departed from
Rome, though not till after he had acquitted himself in a combate with the Prince of
Macedonia for the interests of
Papyria. But, my Lord, we accomplisht not our voyage so happily as we began it; for about seven or eight days since, we were set upon by a party of
Carthaginians, when we had but three or four hours journey to reach your Army. Although my Master had onely some Officers of his house, and two or three slaves, yet he would not yield himself, but with admirable valour for a long while resisted a body of sixty or eighty horse. Nevertheless it behoved at length to give way to number;
Aemylius was wounded, taken, and led to
Carthage, where he is very well accommodated, but extream vigilantly guarded, because the
Carthaginians having learnt who he is, resolve not to deliver him either for exchange or ransome, but to keep him, in order to advantage themselves by him in making a composition, in case your valour reduce them to that extreamity. We shall, perhaps, have other means to free
Aemylius (answered
Scipio) and since ransom or exchange cannot avail for his liberty (continued he, suffering himself to be transported by the greatness of his courage) I will my self go break his fetters, maugre the forces of our enemies, and the rampants of
Carthage.
After these words, he remitted
Valerius to the care of
[...]lavius; and without staying to inquire in what manner he had escaped, he turned towards the Officers that were assembled in his Chamber, and told them with a fierce and ardent aspect, that the siege of
Carthage was resolved upon, and that he would either perish or win that City the same day he attaqued it.
At these words all the company silently lookt upon him, the valour of
Scipio, and the greatness of the enterprise holding their minds in suspence what they should answer; whereupon our famous General again confirming what he had said, all the Officers consented with him, not being able to believe him capable of attempting what he could not execute. In the mean time,
Martius, who had not bin at
Scipio's quarters, because he was at that time imploy'd in preparing all conveniences for a journey to
Rome (for, Madam, he was not in a condition fit for service, and had received in the last skirmish a wound with a javelin in the right arm)
Martius, I say, was astonished when the procedure of
Scipio was related to him; and for that he well knew the temper of that young Heroe, and admired his rare qualities, he was so apprehensive lest he should impatiently precipitate himself into some great danger, that being of more years then
Scipio, and the services he had performed warranting him the liberty to speak his sentiments in the like occasions, he writ to him that he ought not to suffer himself to be transported any more by that noble ardor which had already gained him glory
[Page 235] enough to merit immortally, intreated him to remember that he was General of an Army, that it was no longer free for him to act as a Volunteer, and that in a word be ought not to be prodigal of a blood illustrious and absolutely necessary to the Commonwealth.
Scipio, who had his heroical qualities, conjoyned those of civility and candor, by which he was led to interpret things according to the intention of their Author, received this Letter of
Martius with many demonstrations of friendship, and answered to it in these terms.
DId you understand all the power of Love, I could easily justifie my procedure to you by naming to you the person whom I must see at
Carthage; and by that means disco
[...]ering to you the secret of my heart. After which I presum you would not condemn me, but rather pardon the ardor which you now reproach me with, though in a very obliging strain, and after the manner which I judg'd as ingenious as it is obliging.
All the company being with-drawn when
Scipio received the Letter of
Martius, and testified his intention to answer it, I was left alone in his Chamber with the Officer who waited for the answer which was to be returned to his Master; so that
Scipio, after he had written it, read it aloud to me, and told me, he did not judge it meet to name the person whom he said he was to see in
Carthage, for fear lest the matter should come too soon to the knowledge of
Claudia and
Aemylia. But when we were alone, he entertain'd me with the violence of his passion, telling me of the grief
Aemilia would resent, if she came to understand the misfortune of her brother before the taking of
Carthage; and afterwards discoursing to me concerning the siege of that City; Wonder not,
Laelius, (said he to me) that I resolve to win
Carthage in one day, though it be very strong and seem even absolutely impregnab
[...]e; you know (continued he) that it is encompassed on one side with a little bay of the Sea, that on the other there is a Lake that washes the foot of the walls, that the Lake and the Bay meet together, so that there is onely a tongue of Land that hinders it from being wholly encompassed: Now you may easily enter with your ships into the Port, and block up the City towards the Sea, and I will cause
Syllanus to possess himself of the Tongue of Land; and I conceive (added he) I shall win the City on that side towards the Lake. But it is not foardable (interrupted I). It seems not to be so (answered he) and all the world believes it is not, which will be to my advantage; for the walls that stand towards those
[...]aters, being neither high nor well guarded, it will not be difficult for me to employ a Scalado there with good success.
Trebellius has positively assured me of what I
[Page 236] now tell you; you know he is not often mistaken in such affairs, but after having a long time bin the disciple of the famous
Archimedes, he has had the curiosity to see all the strongest places in
Europe, vvhose scituation he has exactly observed. Besides, his skill not hindering him from being couragious, he has desired me to permit him to follow me in this occasion, which leaves us no reason to doubt of the truth of his words. Yet, I have heard the contrary reported (replyed I) to what you are assured of. The persons then that inform'd you (answered he) made not the same observations with
Trebellius, since they have not told you that the Bay and Lake joyning together, the latter is greatly augmented by the flux of the Sea, but afterwards decereasing by the ebbe, there is not left water enough in it to hinder it from being fordeable.
Scipio having added many other things tending to convince me, after all (added he) ought not something extraordinary to be done for the deliverance of
Emilia's brother, and the taking of a City which is not onely the chief of all
Spain, but into which many persons of greatest quality of severall Nations are retired with all their wealth, and whatever they account precious? Which being atchiev'd, it will not be difficult for us afterwards to reward our Souldiers, and gain the affection of the several Nations by gentle treatments of their Soveraigns or Magistrates which we shall without doubt find in
Carthage. This, Madam, was the conversation I had with
Scipio, concerning the memorable enterprise; after which we parted, and the next morning I took my way to my Ships, as
Martius did his to Rome. But not to be tedious to you, I shall proceed to tell you, that
Scipio having ordered all things necessary with extream diligence, he assaulted that important place three dayes after he had taken the resolution to do it. And he observed the same order I mentioned to you. For as I had the good fortune, in spight of all resistance made me, to enter into the Port of
Carthage, and
Syllanus was come in the head of his Troop to assault the walls of it by Land,
Scipio some time after the reflux of the Sea, sent us order to redouble our storm, so to draw the principal forces of the enemies to those parts, and consequently to weaken that by which he design'd to gain it.
Syllanus and I had no sooner obeyed him, being seconded by
Nasica, and the young
Scipio, but our Heroe standing upon the Lake at the head of the troops which he had chosen; My friends (cryed he with a sprightly and fierce aspect) I should be injurious to you, if I should speak much; words are needless to to men of courage, therefore I shall onely tell you that you are going where your General shall be your company, and the witness of your valour. Let us on then, my friends, let us win
Carthage; and I promise you the taking of this City shall render us Masters of all
Spain, make
Africa tremble, and crown us with immortal glory. He had no sooner spoke these few words, but he seized upon a Ladder, and then casting himself into the Lake, incited by his example a thousand brave persons to do the same. 'Tis true, he always preceded
[Page 237] them, and being arrived at the foot of the walls, planted the first Ladder against them; and then drawing his sword, and covering himself with his shield, he began to ascend with an aspect that no doubt encouraged the hearts of all those that followed him. The walls were not so unguarded, but that they were suddenly bordered with Souldiers at the first allarm that was given there, so that our valiant▪ General likewise redoubled his forces as the
Carthaginians did their, and alwayes supporting his shield with a strong arm, continued to mount up with an heroical audacity, notwithstanding a shower of arrows and stones falling upon him; and though he beheld a hundred Ladders overturn'd on each side. At length he got up, and as a Souldier was stretching forth his arm to strike at him with his sword, and hinder him from casting himself upon the walls, the couragious Generall prevented him, and by a great back blow strook off both arm and sword down into the Lake. This remarkable blow so terrified those that beheld it, that
Scipio had time to leap upon the wall, before they were well enough recover'd out of their amazement to hinder him, and afterwards casting those down into the City that came to oppose his passage, he soon saw himself backt by
Trebellius, Digitius, and above twenty others whom his example had emboldned; so that the fight becoming very disorderly▪ upon the wall, the Romans found fewer obstacles in ascending it; after which the Illustrious
Scipio did not delay to cast himself into the City, designing to gain one of the Gates, and open it to
Syllanus,. Yet he found great resistance in the execution of his purpose; for the Prince of
Celtiberia ran thither, being followed by a thousand selected
Spaniards, who signalizing themselves in this encounter, sufficiently justifi'd the choice which the valiant
Lucius had made of them. But as lightning shafts, all that seems to make a strong resistance, our invincible Conqueror beat down all that opposed his passage; he strikes, thrusts, kills, wounds
Lucius, gains a Gate, causes the Romanes to enter, who suddenly setting up a great shout, displayed our Eagles in the conquered City, and made the air resound with the glorious name of
Scipio. The Governour of
Carthage, with whom I was engag'd (for I had landed, and was so fortunate as to get into the City after I had gain'd the Port) went to relieve
Lucius, and repel our forces; but after a very great resistance he was taken prisoner, with the Prince of
Celtiberia, who caus'd us to admire his valour, and would vvithout doubt have occasioned himself to be slain, had not his svvord bin suddenly broken, and he found himself inclos'd amidst a thousand Souldiers. But I need not, Madam, particularize to you the actions of that memorable day, since all the world has knovvn that the valour of
Scipio equall'd the sublimest degree of that of the most recorded Heroes, and that this famous Roman rais'd himself aftervvards an admiration for those virtues vvhich are esteemed much more then that prodigious valour. For there is a passage I am going to tell you, which more deserves our vvonder then what I
[Page 238] have hitherto related; and vve cannot but vvith astonishment consider a change in
Scipio, vvhich most certainly is more to be extolled then the noblest constancy. For scarce vvas
Carthage in the Roman povver, and the brother of
Aemylia at liberty, but our Illustrious Roman appeared to be a
Carthaginian; this young Conqueror, so fierce, ardent and terrible, becomes of a sudden so gentle, so moderate, and so full of svveetness, that nothing is more certain then that the
Spaniards and
Africans began infinitely to love him, assoon as they ceas'd to fear him. But they shortly after accompanied their love with veneration greater then what uses to be entertained for men; which was not without cause, since our Heroe did things which men are not accustomed to do. No doubt, Madam, you have heard, that the Kings of
Celtiberia, and the
Illergetes, with the Queens their wives, being followed by the most considerable of the
Spaniards, and five and twenty or thirty fair prisoners, were presented to
Scipio, and received by him with a civility so great, that they resented pleasure in the bitterness of their fortune, and offered to their Conqueror that which certainly an Emperour of the Romans, or the greatest conqueror in the world ought not to have hoped, and in a word, that which could not be rendred with justice to any other then our Grand
Scipio, who unquestionably shewed himself perfectly worthy of it, since in the ardor of a most flourishing youth, he placed himself above the reach of the most violent passions, and whatever is most charming in them, especially in an age where the intemperate heat of blood usually favours tumultuous passions. 'Tis unknown to none, Madam, that our generous Roman would not suffer himself to be proclaimed King of
Spain, and answered those that term'd him by that title, He was a Roman Citizen, and that he onely us'd his sword for glory, and the advantage of his Country. But if the moderation of a Conqueror was esteemed, who out of a perfectly heroical generosity had refused a potent Kingdom; the Ladies that were Prisoners much more admired his virtue, when they found a Protector in a young Conqueror, and were treated by him with an aspect that gave them assurance that the fairest among them were in absolute
[...]afety.
Moreover, Liberty was immediately granted to them, as also to all the
Spaniards; but it was after such a manner, that without doubt gained their hearts, and so sensibly obliged them, that it may be said
Scipio captiv'd all those which he declared to be free. But scarce had the Queens rendered thanks to so generous a Victor, but
Mandonius and
Iudibilis, their husbands protested solemnly that they were not contented only to disengage themselves from the interest of the
Carthaginians; but that they gave themselves up intirely to
Scipio, and were ready to hazard their Lives and States for whatever concerned his service.
The
Spaniards, & the fair Prisoners which were in their train, were willing also to testifie their acknowledgment, which they expressed in shouts of joy and admiration; and there hapned to be heard
[Page 239] amongst them certain broken speeches in which were confusedly pronounced the names of
Scipio,, Olinda, King of
Spain, and marriage. But at length all the crowd being withdrawn,
Scipio was ravished with joy to see himself in a condition, enabling him to express to
Aemylius the sentiments of his esteem and dearness; so that he went presently to his Chamber, where he embraced him, and enclosing him between his arms, manifested to him the excess of joy he resented by his presence, and by that what sorrow he had endured upon understanding the news of his imprisonment and wounds. After which he mentioned the obligation he had to him, for that in respect to him, he had chosen rather to serve in
Spain then in
Italy, complaining withal of that admirable modesty which had constrained him from discovering to him his intention of coming to his Army; nor did he omit to speak concerning the quarrel he had had with the Prince
Pers
[...]us, which he did with an ardency that sufficiently shewed the great interest he took in it.
When he had ended those discourses, he beheld
Aemylius after a manner which signifi'd, that what he was going to speak, was yet more agreeable then all he had already spoken. Which
Emilius taking notice of, and beholding the amorous
Scipio with an obliging smile: To answer to your eyes (said he) rather then to the caresses you have spoken, I will speak concerning my sister, and assure you, that if we are not much obliged to those who esteem our enemies, you are without question not much obliged to
Emilia. For as such enemies alone (continued he smiling again) are contemned who are not feared, so they seem onely to be looked upon as considerable, that are accounted terrible; and consequently my sister esteems the enemies of
Scipio, since she extreamly dreads them. Ah!
Emilius (answered this passionate Lover) how happy should I be, if your adorable sister had such an obliging fear! I
[...] that fear conduces to your happiness (replyed he) you have no cause to complain of your fortune, for
Aemylia permitted me to discover a certain discontent he had, which assuredly the interest of Rome alone did not produce, when it was reported there, that the Kings of
Celtiberia and
Illergetes, were united with the
Carthaginians, that the Prince
Lucius was arriv'd in
Spain, and that their Armies were extreamly strong. Upon which their united forces seemed to her so formidable, that verily (added he smiling) if you had had the same sentiments with her, we should not now be making this conversation in New
Carthage in the manner we are.
He had scarce ended these words, but a Centurion entered with very much haste; and as he was going to speak to his General, I entered also, followed with ten or a dozen Officers, who were accompanying me to visit
Emilius; and
Scipio retir'd to one of the Windows to hear vvhat the Centurion had to say to him; My Lord (said he presently with much commotion of countenance) you have never seen any thing so handsom as what I shall cause you
[Page 240] to see at this present. There are so many kinds of handsomness (answered the moderate
Scipio, smiling) that it is difficult for me to comprehended what you mean, unless you speak somewhat more clearly concerning the thing you intend to shew me. 'Tis, my Lord (replyed he immediately) the incomparable
Olinda; 'tis the fair Princess of the
Illergetes; and in a word, 'tis that rare person whom the Prince
Lucius is infinitely enamoured of, and all
Spain admires. Yes, my Lord (added he) 'tis that charming Lady whom I have caused to be put in a place of safety, and I am going to cause her to be brought to you at this instant. You need only conduct me where she is (interrupted the generous
Scipio) for it is inconsistent with decency to give that kind of trouble to a person of her sex, merit, and quality. After these words, he accordingly went whither the Centurion conducted him, before he so much as caused some slight wounds he had received to be dressed, which he had neglected before through his ardency to deliver
Emilia's, and discourse with him concerning his divine sister; besides that the great number of prisoners I told you of were presented to him of a sudden.
The Centurion had no sooner opened the door of the Hall where the Princess
Olinda was, but offering to retire he was retain'd by
Scipio, and caused to follow him; but as he advanced towards that young and handsome person, he perceived she was all alone; upon which he suddenly stopt, and instead of approachig to her, retired after he had made her a low reverence. At which time he forthwith sent to call some Ladies of
Carthage, desiring them to abide with the Princess of the
Illergetes; and taking some Officers also with him, he entered again and advanced towards her. The youth of the Conqueror, and the beauty of the Prisoner would not without question have promised the success that was admired in this interview, if
Scipio had not bin the Conqueror; but
Olinda knowing him immedately by his goodly aspect, and better by the action he had performed at his entering the first time, she arose up, and went towards him, offering to cast her self at his feet, not so much for her own interest, being generous enough not to be capable of fear, but to shew all kind of submission to a Conqueror, who by the right of Arms had an absolute power over the King and the Queen of the
Illergetes. Scipio presently restrain'd her purpose, and told her after an obliging & respectful manner, that it belonged to the Princess
Olinda to receive such homages from men that approacht her. I protest to you, my Lord (answered she) that I would render that respect to you less as conqueror of—Madam (interrupted he) if you would render it with justice, I shall conduct you towards the persons to whom alone you owe it. For I am not come, Madam, but to beseech you most humbly, that you would please to pardon those who apparantly have not treated you with all the cautious reverence that is due to you; I am not come but to declare so you,
[Page 241] that you are not only free, but that you are still Princess of the
Illergetes, and to lead you my self to the Queen your Mother, whither decency and affection require you to go, and whither virtue certainly, and the respect I owe you, oblige me to conduct you.
Olinda admired the high generosity of
Scipio, and having made him a remerciment sufficiently expressing her gratitude, and the esteem she had of the grandeur of his mind, she tendered him her hand, and went accordingly to the Palace, whither the King her Father was retired with the Queen his wife.
Assoon as
Scipio had remitted the Princess
Olinda into the hands of the Queen her Mother, and received a thousand thanks for it, accompanied with praises and acclamations, he went to the house he had made choise of to reside in, and caused himself to be dress'd, whence afterwards he went to see the Prince of
Celtiberia. Lucius immediately advanced towards
Scipio, and without either pride or lowness performed all the honours he judged befitting an Illustrious Conqueror, which he never accompanied with that shameful submission that she vanquished, who preserve not all their generosity in bad fortune, are wont to express towards those whom the lot of Arms declares their Masters. But the deportment of
Lucius evidenced, that that Prince had a soul above his misfortune, since their could not be observed in him that ferocity which is sometimes affected in like occasions to shew greatness of courage; nor that low yieldance, that is often made use of to draw the compassion of a Conqueror. But if the Prince of
Celtiberia's acting in this sort, made it appear that he did not too much remember his defect, the civilities that
Scipio return'd him, shew'd sufficiently that he forgot his Victory. They parted therefore with very much esteem one for another, after the Illustrious Roman had told the generous
Celtiberian he was free; but yet he desired him he would defer to make use of the liberty he gave him till the next morning. After which he retired; and as he was about to dispatch
Flavius to
Aemilius, and cause a kinsman of
Flaminius to depart and advertise the Senate of all that had pass'd, he beheld five or six men enter into his Chamber, the first of which preceded two others which carried two magnificent shields, fill'd, as was soon perceived, with Gold and Jewels. He that was to present them advanc'd, and having made a low reverence, told
Scipio, that the King of the
Illergetes his Master, had sent him the ransom of the Princess his daughter, intending to levy forces in lieu of his own; and venture his life for the service of an Illustrious Victor who had so generously given him it.
You shall tell the King your Master (answered
Scipio) that I accept his friendship, but not his present; for since I have bin able to restore him a treasure of inestimable value, he ought not to believe me capable to receive that which he now offers me. Ah! my Lord (cryed the
Illergete) what generosity is this? After which having mused a little, he suddenly added, My Lord, I must in brief declare
[Page 242] to you, notwithstanding the concealed interest of my own in the matter, that all the world wishes you would marry the Princess
Olinda, and that you would establish your self King of
Spain. I shall take your proposals into consideration (answered
Scipio smiling) and in the mean time you may tell the fair Princess of the
Illergetes, that if I have broken her Chains to day, 'tis possible I may fasten them to morrow with an indissoluble knot.
After these words, the
Illergete retired,
Scipio dispatcht those he intended to send to
Rome, entertained discourse with
Aemilius a while, and so went to his rest. The next morning he was no sooner in a condition to be seen by all persons without distinction, but the Kings of
Celtiberia and the
Illergetes, with the Queens their Wives, followed by
Olinda, and causing more magnificent presents then those
Scipio had returned to be brought with them, entered into his Chamber, and immediately protested they would refuse the liberty
Scipio had given them, if he would not accept that which they came to offer him.
Scipio answered, that he did not refuse the thing of greatast value that had bin offered him, which was the amity of the two Kings. But, my Lord (said the Queen of the
Illergetes to him) it is requisite, and that absolutely too, either that you receive the ransom which we offer you for
Olinda, or that
Olinda her self resume her fetters. To do yet more then you desire, Madam (answered
Scipio smiling in an obliging manner) I will accept all that you offer me, and I will consent also that the Princess
Olinda cease to be free. In ending which words, he whispered to an Officer, after he had desired the Queens permission; and as he observed presently that she of
Celtiberia appeared to be very sad, he comforted her, by informing her that the Prince
Lucius was not dangerously wounded. You have seen him then, my Lord, (interrupted she presently with much satisfaction) and according to what you say, he is your prisoner. 'Tis true, I have seen him, Madam (replyed he) but I do not agree with you as to the rest, and especially before the fair Princess of the
Illergetes, with whom I should be much troubled to have any contest in usurping her rights.
As he ended these words,
Lucius entered, and his presence having fill'd the Kings and Queens with joy, and caus'd the modest
Olinda to blush, also fill'd the spectators with contentment and admiration. But, Madam, it needs not that I should here detain you in particularizing an action all the world has wondered at, even to the least circumstances. I shall content my self to tell you, that then it was that
Scipio made the memorable marriage of
Lucius and
Olinda, that he gave that Princess all that he was constrained to accept a little before, that he wholly gain'd the hearts of the
Spaniards, and fill'd all the earth with veneration of his virtue, as it was already fill'd with the fame of his Valour and his Victories. In fine, Madam, I have now spoken of an action that all the Nations extol, all Painters represents, and all excellent wits write of to consecrate
[Page 243] to eternity, and make admir'd as long as virtue shall be known in the world. As
Laelius was upon this part of his Narration, the Prince
Magasba entered into the Chamber of the Princess his daughter, and told her with a kind of haste and severity, that she was to be reproved for not being at the Chamber of
Aemilia, that that Illustrious Roman Lady had bin in a condition to be seen above a quarter of an hour ago, and that for his own part, he had not failed to go to that of
Scipio, and to yours also; My Lord (continued he, addressing to
L
[...]lius) where I had the unhappiness not to find you.
Laelius made his remerciment with a low reverence, after which observing
Magasba, went out to return again to
Scipio (as he had told him) and that
Palmira intended to go to the Chamber of
Emilia, he gave her his hand, and to
Nadalia also, and so they went all three thither, but it was with an air perfectly agreeable, and very different from that of the Prince of
Capsa. But for that it was already late,
Aemilia delayed not to descend down into a low Hall, whither
Scipio, Magasba, Regulus and
Cato likewise repair'd, and were all there magnificently treated. The conversation that was made afterwards was extreamly pleasing; and that which was most agreeable, was, that the modest
Aemylia often shewed a lovely mixture of Carnation in her countenance, when it came into her mind that
Laelius had newly related her History. In the evening this Illustrious company went to walk in the Garden, where
Magasba gave the hand to
Aemylia, Scipio to
Palmira, Regulus to
Nadalia, and
Laelius and
Cato, went together, till insensibly
Scipio, Aemilia, Magasba, and
Palmira, were separated from the rest, and entered into a pleasant Arbor of Jasmine,
Regulus and
Nadalia rested themselves in a Banquetting-house, and
Laelius and
Cato continued walking together in a fair and spacious walk, that led to a gate of the Garden. But as
Laelius was at that time in expectation of news from the Camp, and likewise from
Carthage (for
Terence who was there, was either to write to him, or to come and find him at
Capsa to speak in favour of the Delegates of his City, to the end
Scipio might receive them more graciously) he was suddenly surpris'd when he beheld three strangers enter into the Garden, whose faces were at first unknown to him. But advancing towards them, he soon perceived that two of them were young Romans of goodly personages,
Rutilius and
Albinus, whereof the first was Cousin to
Aemilia, and had not long before obtained the command of a Legion; after which casting his eyes upon the third, he was agreeably surpris'd when he saw it was the famous
Terence, whose wit was so celebrated in the world, and whose Verses were of a strain so facil and agreeable, that it was impossible not to be charmed by them. As soon as
Laelius had caressed the three strangers with affectionate civilities, and sutable to their qualitie and merit, he led them to the Arbour where
Aemilia was, who received them with an air extreamly obliging, though expressing such tokens of affection to
Rutilius, as
[Page 244]
Albinus and
Terence could not reasonably expect. But when
Scipio, Aemilia, Magasba, Palmira, Laelius, Cato, and the three strangers had passed all the Ceremonies usual in such occasions, the conversation became perfectly handsome; and that which rendered it more agreeable, was, a pleasant piece of Railery between
Laelius and
Nadalia. For this lovely Virgin coming to rejoyn with the company,
Laelius advanced towards her, and presenting
Terence to her without naming him: I do not content my self, fair
Nadalia (said he to her) to be your friend; but I desire to make this stranger known to you, who will soon be likewise that in quality. You assure the matter very confidently (answered she). If persons of the same Country (interrupted he) have great inclinations to love and kindness, when they meet at distance from it, you ought not to wonder at what I say. How? (interrupted she again) is this stranger a Spaniard? Yes, Madam, I am so (answered
Terence in the language of that Nation) and if
Laelius do not deceive himself, my birth will be extreamly advantageous to me. Ah,
Laelius (cryed she immediately) the accent of this stranger does little agree with your words. Nevertheless (answered
Laelius smiling) if he be not
a Spaniard, yet he is a rare wit, and consequently better deserves in this latter quality the friendship of
Nadalia. Believe him not, Madam (answered
Terence agreably) he deceives you a second time; but if my accent has already disabus'd you, my words shall soon free you from the second error. In speaking as you do (replyed she) you manifest that he does not delude me; yet I will not pardon him the prank he has shewn me in representing you to me for a
Spaniard, unless he tells me who you are. That you shall not know (answered
Laelius.) Upon which words
Nadalia became so impatient, that addressing to
Aemilia, and having observed in the countenances, she beheld little readiness to satisfie her; In the name of the Gods, Madam (said she to her) make me know who this stranger is; whose aspect is so sprightly, and who speakes in so pleasant a manner. I know not (answered the discreet
Aemilia) whether you will not be as much surpris'd as I was, when you are told 'tis the famous
Terence that you are discoursing with. Verily, Madam (replyed
Nadalia) I am extreamly joyful to know so vvorthy a person, and to see that he is not at all disordered; the first time he enters into a great company where he is infinitely esteemed. I see not that he has cause to be so (answered
Aemylia) since he is so esteemed as you say. But, Madam (replyed
Nadalia) be pleased to consider, there is nothing more troublesome then to go into a great assembly to make good a great reputation; for if such a person speaks subli
[...] ly he distasts many of the company; And if he speaks otherwise; without doubt he does not maintain the esteem that was conceived of him. And this is so true (added she smiling) that if I were fame, I would not excessively commend persons of wit in the places where they are to go.
[Page 245] There is a greater unhappiness in that vvhich you say (ansvvered
Terence pleasantly) which is, that vvhen a man is once receiv'd for a vvit, though he should aftervvards speak the handsomest things in the vvorld, and had the art even to please generally, yet he vvould not be esteemed the more, because it vvould be alvvays believ'd that he speaks out of obligation, and that it is much easier for him to acquit himself more agreeably then they vvho have not the same design. That vvhich I apprehend inconvenient to the persons we speak of (said the Princess of
Hippo) is, that it seems they ought alvvays to have a peculiar language, and 'tis no longer free for them to imploy such terms as are ordinarily used. And that which I find most unjust (said
Scipio) at least in reference to their vvorks, is, that there are certain people, vvho pretending to learning and vvit, speak of a handsome Comedy, or such like divertisement, vvith a contemning judgement, and look upon them as meer triflles, vvithout considering that the most excellent morality, and the subtilest policy may be learnt in them, after a pleasing manner, and far from the severity of Maxims.
As
Scipio ended these vvords he observ'd a happy opportunity offered to speak to
Aemilia; upon vvhich he turned tovvards her, to entertain her vvith that profound respect that never abandon'd him in the presence of the fair person: For, advantageously for him,
Magasba vvas discoursing for some time vvith
Cato, and so left him liberty to speak to the person he lov'd, though rather out of difference then address.
Palmira, Regulus, Rutilius, and
Albinus, entertained themselves very agreeably, and the conversation of
Nadalia, Laelius, and
Terence vvas no question gallant and debonair. But vvhen it grevv late, the Illustrious company reunited their conversation; about vvhich time
Nadalia vvas desiring
Terence to give her some Verses of his composing, and asking for them vvith something a loud voice;
Cato, vvho vvas not far distant over-heard her, and ansvvering her vvith a cold and serious smile; It is requisite then (said he) that you give him some other thing, for in my apprehension there is nothing of more povverfull inspiration to handsome Poetry, then that vvhich I understand. You have so little experienc'd vvhat you say you understand (ansvvered
Nadalia smiling) that methinks you are not a very fit person to vvhom to be referred in this case. 'Tis true indeed (said
Scipio to
Cato) that I cannot herein be of your opinion, though it be the same that most of the vvorld follovvs: for I never could conceive it possible to express a violent passion vvell in measur'd vvords, and confine transports that vvill ovvn no bounds to a limited of expression. Besides (added
Nadalia) I never can indure those superfluous vvords (vvherewith such kind of Verses are ordinarily filled, though I vvere capable of not hating those pieces of gallantry as I certainly do. Yet I have a vvay to cause you to receive the Verses vve speak of (ansvvered
Terence smiling). But,
Terence (interrupted
[Page 246]
Laelius) how dare you speak as you do, after what we have from the mouth of
Nadalia. Do you not know (continued he) that that fair person would be as cruel a Mistress, as she is really a good friend; that she had rather see a Lover die, then understand his passion: And lastly, that there is nothing but the death of a poor slave that could warrant a discovery, without incensing her, that her fetters were worn. Assuredly
Terence did not remember all these things (said
Palmira smiling). Pardon me, Madam (answered he to her) 'twas because I did remember them, that I spake after that manner that surpris'd
Laelius. It would be a desirable pleasure then (replyed she) to hear the way you speak of, for I presume it will be one of those pleasant turns of wit that you are accustomed to use. Sincerely, Madam (answered he, affecting to speak seriously) there will be neither mirth nor pleasantness in what I intend to make. What is it then you intend to make? (said
Aemilia with a little smile). My own Epitaph, Madam (answered he with his affected seriousness) for since
Nadalia saies she would understand the passion of a dead man without being incensed, and that a dead man can speak only by his Epitaph, be pleased to judge, Madam, whether I have not reason to set upon the making of mine, and send it to her.
All the company laughed at the agreeable conceit of
Terence, and
Nadalia having beheld him smiling also; Verily (said she to him) this conceit seems to me so exquisitely ingenious, that all the company vvill be glad you make what you speak of; and for my part, I shall be extreamly pleased with it, for I confess to you such kind of fancies are perfectly correspondent to my humour. This conversation was upon a subject so agreeable, that it would have bin continued longer if time had permitted: but for that it was already late, the Illustrious Company retyr'd, and assoon as they came into the low Hall, which was handsomely beset with Lights,
Laelius and
Terence went apart by themselves to speak of important affairs, though after
Nadalia had smilingly told the
Carthaginian she would expect his Epitaph.
Terence did not sup that night at the Palace of
Magasba; because having a friend that was unwilling yet to shew himself, he did not account it fit to leave him alone: Besides (added he smiling, in answer to those that desired to stay him) I do not conceive a Palace (where nothing but glorious and brave spectacles amaze the eyes, and where all thoughts are unsutable but those of joy) a fit place to inspire me with Funerall Verses. But if the conversation of so worthy a person was wanting in this Illustrious company, the productions of his Wit were not; for they had no sooner disposed themselves to pass the evening with Divertisements, but a man who was presently known to be a Carthaginian entered, and after a low reverence delivered a Pacquet into the hands of
Nadalia. Assoon as this amiable Lady had
[Page 247] her eyes upon it, she perceived it was a rich Writing-Table, wherein she presently read these words which were written in a Character not unknown to her;
To a fair person, who will not understand the passion of a Lover but by his Death.
Nadalia mused a little, and blushed at the reading of these words▪ after which having opened the Tablets, she found therein these Verses;
How great a number in one rigid fate,
Iris, do you involve,
If onely you resolve.
A dead Adorer to commiserate;
And will not own the Tropies of your eyes,
Till Death hath made the World your sacrifice.
Repeal, fair
Iris, this severe decree▪
Unless your sins you will not hide,
But in your mischiefs take a pride:
Then think but how untoward it would be
A thing so grim, so rude as death should dar
[...]
To make a Court to one so young, so fair.
All the company unanimously applauded the hand somness of this conceit, and condemned the sentiment of
Nadalia, since in effect death has all the contrary qualities to those we see in the comely persons of Lovers: but as they were going to attaque that fair person, who was at that time not so debonair as usual, she gladly took occasion to avoid the on-set, by opening the other Tablets which she received, the cover of which was plain black without superscription, and in which she read the following words,
I expect your Epitaph. These, fair
Nadalia, were the terrible words you spoke at my parting from you. I know well you have demanded nothing beyond your rights. I know you need onely declare your pleasure to persons that know you as well as I do, and that I ought not to disobey you, even when you require my Epitaph. Nevertheless I presume to say you ought something to sweeten the matter, and might have shewn less pleasantness in pronouncing these cruel words, and moreover that you ought not to demand my Epitaph with the same air that another Lady would have askt me for a Sonnet. 'Tis true, that being you had rather behold the death of a Lover then understand his passion, you are so often oblig'd
[Page 248] to desire Epitaphs, that being accustomed thereto, you speak at present not onely without reluctance, but even with your ordinary debonarity. But since a dead man may tell you the sentiments he has, without offending you, I believe one that sends you his Epitaph, ought to have the same liberty, and consequently I may declare to you that I am absolutely yours. But, fair
Nadalia, I mean with all the respect that is due to you: for, as for any thing more, in truth I feel my self not yet dead enough to presume to speak it.
The end of this Letter immediately appeared so pleasantly conceiv'd, that all the company was agreeably surprised with it: and as they were going to speak concerning the wit that was resplendent in all the works of
Terence, Nadalia read the following Verses;
EPITAPH.
Stay Cousned Reader, and forbear to cry,
But rather envy my blest destiny.
It was
Nadalia slew me; for her sake
I pass'd with gladness o're the Stygian Lake,
That I might bear the news to shades below;
'Twas to her eyes that I my Fate did owe.
But after I had looked long in vain,
'Mongst all the Ghosts that in Elysium raign,
I found it true; that, nor the world above,
Nor this had any, that deserv'd her love.
Go, pray her then the favour we may have,
At least to take repose within thy Grave.
If the Letter of
Terence was judg'd ingenious, his Verses did not seem less handsome; and as they observ'd the happiness of his infancy in them, and that both pieces were of the same Author, the opinions of this Illustrious company were divided, whilst some persons of wit commended the Epitaph that was now read, and others repeated with applause the handsomest passages of the Letter preceding it. But that which occasioned a little wonder, was, that
Nadalia did not speak so much in this occasion as was expected: it was remembred that she appeared a little pensive before she opened the Tablets of
Terence: and if some kind of pleasantness appeared in her countenance, it was easily observable not to resemble that sprightly jollity that was natural to her. Whereupon she was set upon by
Laelius, who told her smilingly, he wondered she had lost her cheerfulness even before the apparition of
Terence. Yet
[Page 249] methinks (said
Aemilia) she has very much left still. No doubt, Madam, (answered
Regulus smiling) you apprehend so, onely because she has very much wit. But for that she has also very many enemies (replied the Princess of
Hippo) it is fit that she have also some friends. If she stood in need of friends after what you have said, Madam (answered
Scipio) I should presently embrace her party. You do me too great a favour, my Lord (said
Nadalia) but I have no necessity of so great a succour in this occasion, and I shall onely desire a protection which two fair and Illustrious persons will without doubt not refuse me: since therefore (added he smiling) I need only my jolly humour to silence those that attaque me, and to manifest, that at least in this encounter I am able to surmount my enemies by laughing. But since laughter is a thing not voluntary (answered
Regulus pleasantly) you cannot overcome us when you please; yet I need only to express my debonarity (replyed she) to manifest my triumph. But you know well, fair
Nadalia (said
Laelius) that mirth ought to be spontaneously produced, and when it is enforc'd, it ceases to be agreeable, and our heart disowns it as a stranger: Moreover (added he smiling) the cheerfulness we speak of, methinks, seems constrain'd in the borrowed attire it is dress'd with; and it is impossible it should please when it bespeaks observation and effects to be taken notice of.
This conceit of
Laelius gave the company occasion of pleasantness, and caus'd much divertisement in this evening's conversation, in which
Rutilius &
Albinus ingaged themselves agreeably: and even the Prince of
Capsa &
Cato spake some things of a strain not very ordinary with them;
Magasba conceiving himself oblig'd to speak to the persons he entertained in such manner as might be most acceptable to them, and
Cato judging it fit to remit a little of his severity, since he beheld nothing austere in the persons in whom he admired a noble prudence, and a sublime virtue. But when it was time for this Illustrious Company to separate, the two famous friends went to entertain themselves after a very different sort, since they went to speak of the charmes of the divine
Aemilia, which they never did, but after a manner in which might be seen a profound respect mix'd with an exordinary admiration. Their conversation indeed did not endure long; for it being extreamly late,
Laelius referred the relating of the important affairs he had to inform me of, to the next morning, as also the giving him account of what he had lately understood concerning the Deputations of the Carthaginians. The amorous
Scipio much uncapable to expect with moderation what was promised him, resented a sensible grief as soon as
Laelius was gone out of his Chamber: for when the Idea of
Aemylia presently fill'd whole extent of his imagination, he could not consider that that admirable Lady was the fairest person in the world, and the person in the world that he loved most, without afterwards repassing in his mind all the obstacles that had hindered him from being happy.
[Page 250] This remembrance would without doubt have caused him to expire with grief, if he had not sweetned it by coming suddainly to think that his rivals were yet more unhappy then himself; and that besides, that their pretensions were not better favour'd, they had not then the advantage of seeing
Aemilia, of being lodg'd in the same Palace, and having Illustrious persons with her to promote the interest of their passions. From these thoughts he was capable to pass to that of conquering his enemies; for in this conjuncture he was able to bestow a part of his cares for the interest of
Rome, without ceasing to think on the beauty of
Aemilia, because his ambition was then a dependance of his love; so that it may be said, this Illustrious Lover in betaking himself to his bed, did less abandon himself to rest, then to the tyranny of those two violent passions.
FINIS.