CHAP. I.

THe pleasant Month of April had already en­riched the spacious Plains with so flou­rishing a Tapestry, that the Earth (like a half-starved Beggar, grown proud by new Preferment) being now freed from a rigorous Winter, seemed to vie Glory with the Heavens themselves, whether the multitudes of Stars of the one, or the abundance of Violets, Cow­slips, [Page 2]and Jessamins, and other various-coloured Flowers of the Season, of the other, should cast the more delightful lu­stre: And however the Stars might chal­lenge a greater glory by night, yet in this the Earth had by day a greater advantage over their nocturnal beauty, that to her o­ther Rarities, she had usually though not so many Stars as the Heavens, yet to mor­tal eyes those that were far more fair; I mean the sparkling Eyes of those Troops of Ladies that daily frequented the Fields, attended by their Lovers, for the pleasure of the Walks. The Chrystal Rivulets (enamel­led with thousands of delightful Flowers that overspread the Banks) seemed to stop their courses to enjoy the delightful Mu­sick of the Nightingal, and the agreeable Harmony of other little Birds. Already Flora, and she to whom the Romans attri­buted the Cornucopia, had gilded and paint­ed with admirable industry the Plains and Gardens, the Fruit-trees and Orchards, and that with a greater variety of Colours than ever adorned the Landschape of the skilfullest Painter; When one day as the dawning begun to advise the sluggish Tra­veller that the Light which entred his [Page 3]Chamber proceeded from the approach­ing Sun, and not from the declining Moon, there parted from Ʋbeda, a Town of that part of the so fertile and renowned Pro­vince of Betica which is now called An­daluzia, a Cavalier, the most signal of that Town, to go to the Court of Philip the Se­cond at Madrid, to receive the Order of the Golden Fleece, to which the Merits and Services of his Ancestors had intitled him, resolving not to leave the Court without that honourable Badge: And knowing that Court-pretensions are usually accom­panied with tedious delays, he thought it would conduce to the passing more plea­santly the time which he must needs bestow on that pursuit, to carry along his Wife and Family with him.

Don Sebastian (so was this Cavalier cal­led) had not yet attained the 25 year of his age; a man of so excellent a Meen, and every way so compleat in all the Accom­plishments that render a Cavalier com­mendable, that had he not been too much inclined to the Cyprian sports, his severest Enemies could scarce have found in him one sole default, or the least defect.

All these Graces and rare Perfections, [Page 4]joyned to an ample Revenue, which his Pa­rents (lately deceased) had left him, quick­ly put him in possession of a Wife, for Ac­complishments, Riches, and Noble Descent every way his equal. Besides, Donna Mar­gareta (so was she called) was Mistris of an incomparable Beauty, compounded of all the most admired graces and sweet atracti­ons, which placed her in the chief rank of all the Ladies of Andaluzia; and so young, that she had not yet seen the 17 year of her age, nor the second of her marriage. Yet could not all these sweets and rarities con­fine Don Sebastian's ranging humour, whose depraved appetite often quitted his own pure White-bread, to feed on that whose course out-side and unsavoury taste would offend the most hungry Beggar; which cau­sed this poor Lady to pass her time very discontentedly, wanting those Content­ments which her Youth desired, and Beau­ty deserved, since her unjust and disoyal Husband unworthily bestowed on others what was justly due to none but her, lea­ving her alone to deplore in her own Bed the want of those Satisfactions which he enjoyed in anothers.

This young Couple in their Journey had [Page 5]already passed the high and rugged Moun­tains of Sierra Morena, when the Horses finding themselves in an even Plain, began to go so chearfully, and draw the Coach so swiftly, though heavy loaden, that they ar­rived at Viso before Sun-set. The Coach­men were desirous to pass further, but Donna Margareta's delicate Body, wea­ried with Travel, and disordered by the jogging of the Coach, made her desirous to stay there. They therefore alighted from the Coach, and the Coachmen and Attendants having disposed of their Car­riages, and given Meat to their Horses (being acquainted with the Host by often travelling that way) saw the Chambers made ready, and gave order for Supper, which was quickly prepared for the Table, because all that was necessary they brought along with them (as is the custom in Spain (or ought to be so) amongst those that are not ambitious to be famish'd.)

Whilst the Spit was turning, and the Cloth laying, Donna Margareta was enter­taining her self with her Waiting-maids about the excessive height of the Mountains of that Countrey, painting them out more prodigious than those of Armenia. Her [Page 6]Husband, on the other side, was discours­ing with a wondrous fair Niece of the Host, not, as some may imagine of Affairs of State, or the Siege of Ostend, but only of some stratagem how to pass the ensuing night together in less dangerous Encoun­ters. The young Girl defended her self against his Assaults, by telling him, That she was but newly married, and that her Husband, who was then in the Countrey, might, for ought she knew, return that night. These words, though seeming ob­stacles, so inflamed our Cavalier, that he was absolutely determined, or rather tran­spotted by his passion, to a resolution never to give over the Assault till he had won the Fort, and brought the Maintainer of it to yield at discretion. Finally, it was appoint­ed by our two Warriors to meet at the Field of Battel, the Bed of the absent Husband, at eleven a clock at night, which would be the time when all others in the House would be retired to their Lodgings.

The appointment thus made, Don Seba­stian went to his Wifes Chamber, who see­ing him enter with so pleasant a look, ask'd him whence he came. He, who in such occasions never wanted Excuses to conceal [Page 7]his Vices, answered (as confidently as a Comedian that is perfect in his Part) I was hearing some News which a Gentle­man newly come from Court was talking of below; and really he did it with so good a grace, that if a Cavalier which came to see him had not interrupted him, I would not for any thing in the World have lost the end of the Narration, I took such delight to hear him discourse. Pre­thee, my Dear (said Donna Margareta) tell me what he talk'd of, whilst Supper is ma­king ready. There's no time for that, an­swered a Page (as opportunely as if he had been expresly called for that purpose) for 'tis just ready; and, if you please, we will serve it up presently. Well, let us go to Supper, said Don Sebastian; we shall have time enough for this Story to morrow.

They sate down, and fell to. Catalina (for so for the future we shall call the Hosts fair Niece) waited at the Table, and the better to conceal her passion, had her eyes for the most part fixed on the earth, lest their motion should betray her affection; and the force of imagination of her intend­ed delights struck such an impression upon her spirit, that she even melted like the [Page 8]Snow by the heat of the Sun; and some­times casting her eyes upon Donna Marga­reta, and seeing her endowed with so charming a Beauty, she could not but say within her self, Alas! my dearest Friend, I fear I shall miss the enjoyment of thee this night; for vanquish'd with the sweet Caresses of so sovereign a Beauty, how canst thou chuse but pass it (like the Elm embraced by the amorous Vine) clasped in those lovely Arms?

Don Sebastian was in like distress, some­times by stealth casting amorous glances at Catalina; and sometimes he forgot him­self so far, that he could not possibly with­draw his eyes from so charming an object: And indeed there is no cause to wonder at his astonishment; for Catalina was for Beauty an invaluable Pearl, and her black Eyes so lively and sparkling, that the re­flection cast by a Looking-glass swiftly mo­ved against the Sun, had not a quicker mo­tion than they, when she sometimes moved them. Finally, she was compleatly pro­per for the purpose for which Don Sebastian designed her.

The Table-discourse ended with the Supper; for Don Sebastian counterfeiting [Page 9]the false Sentinel, nodded, and several times let fall a Book he held in his hand, Naturallists observe, that when a Flock of Cranes would sleep se­curely, one of them is set Sentinel, which lest she should be su [...]prized by sleep, ho [...]ds vp a stone as high as she can with her foot.like a Crane overcome by sleep. Don­na Margareta taking no­tice of Don Sebastian's drowsiness, and remem­bring that he had told her he intended to be early up in the morning, thought fit to mind him of going to bed. Don Sebastian no sooner heard that, but he answered her, ri­sing from his Chair, Go thou to bed, my Dear, and I'le but go down to my Coach­men and Grooms, to bid them retire pre­sently, because we must be stirring very early in the morning, that we may be at Cividad Real betimes to morrow; and I'le be with thee presently. Having spoke to his Servants, he found means to speak with Catalina, and entertain himself with her a while: Which done, having appointed an Hour, and she shown him her Chamber, he returned to his own, where he found his Wife already laid. Being unclothed, he dismiss'd the Attendants, shut the Door, and went to bed, where he was no sooner laid, but he feigned as profound a sleep, as [Page 10]if he had watch'd a fortnight together with a sick person. This sudden surrender to Sleeps assaults was not very pleasing to his Wife, who perhaps expected a more so­lemn Good-night; but she knew his hu­mour so well, that to approach nearer him would rather offend him than advantage her; so that the fear of displeasing him accommodating her present desire to her future hopes, that the morning would re­store her what the evenings drowsiness had deprived her of, in this agreeable imagina­tion sleep slided so gently into her fair eyes, that it kept her as fast bound, (though in gentler chains) as if she had been captive to his younger Brother Death. There were no other Strangers this Night in the Inn (though one of the best in the Countrey) but Don Sebastian and his Train, which cau­sed all the Family to be in bed before ele­ven, there in a pleasant repose paying the Tribute due to Nature. The beauteous Catalina lay listning more attentively, to hear if her beloved Don Sebastian knocked at her Door, than a sick Person when the Physician near his Beds head pronounceth to some of his Friends or Kindred the Sen­tence of his Life or Death: Nor would a [Page 11]benighted Traveller undergo a greater in­quietude in a tedious expectation of Day, in which only he could be delivered from an abyss of dangers with which he sees himself invironed, than she suffered in her languishing expectation. But she had no cause to despair, having so diligent a Ser­vant as Don Sebastian, who leaving his Wife, with a face more serene and lovely than Aurora, opened the Door with as little noise as was possible, and (like a certain Thief, who going one night to rob his Neighbour's House, left open the Door of his own, through which some of his own Profession entred, and stole away all he had worth carrying) leaving it open, march'd away so gently, that the Floor could scarce­ly feel him. Being arrived at his Mistrisses Chamber-door, he call'd her as low as was possible, and instantly felt it opened and himself embraced by her. He staid not long to recount the customary amorous follies of Lovers, for the exquisite plea­sure he felt prevented him; nor could he have done it if he had gone about it, for the multitude of ravishing kisses and em­braces which our new-married Catalina gave him: Therefore taking her in his [Page 12]arms, without ever removing his lips from hers, they both went to bed together. But let us leave them here, to speak of that which my Pen has been a great while de­sirous to write.

About half an hour after our Cavalier had left his Wife for another Man's, one of his Pages, about 18 years old, and as beauteous as Narcissus, rose from his Bed to make water; but wanting a Pot, and being half asleep, and not knowing where to do it without leaving a mark of his unmanner­liness, to contradict the common opinion of the World, which without respect of any, though of the most civilized sort, will not allow any of them to have the least share either of civility or good manners, he went down to the Court-yard, and there satisfying Nature's necessity, made it appear, that he surpassed his Camerades in good Breeding.

Don Sebastian had his Appartment in a great Gallery of the House, into which three Chambers opened: In the third, as being the best, he lay himself, and his Wife; in the second, the Pages; and in the first, the Waiting-maids; and in the other Chambers in the Inn, being of less conse­quence, [Page 13]lay the ordinary Servants. The Page having dispatch'd his affairs, and re­turning to his Bed, being scarce fully a­wake, mistook his Mistrisses Chamber for his own, and after he had groped by the Walls a good while for the Bed, he at last found it, and lay down. He had not been long there, but Donna Margareta awaked at the rustling he had made amongst the Clothes as he lay down; and thinking it had been her Husband, she embraced him closely, saying, Lord, my Dear, how cold thou art! And then putting her Feet be­twixt his to warm them, made him a thou­sand Caresses. The Page thought his Camerade had been in a Dream, and had done and said these extravagances fancying himself in bed with a Girl; but feeling her hands by degrees approaching the most sensible parts of his Body, with more plea­sant enticements than that Goddess (of whom the Cytherean Isle has taken its name) used to her Adonis, and hearing these words, Turn thee to me, Dearest, and be not so cruel to me as to refuse me thy em­braces: Wilt thou not, my Love? Alas! what's the reason? At this Discourse the Page found he was deceived, and that she [Page 14]that made him those tender caresses, and close embraces, was his Mistris.

He remained at first almost dead with fear; but having recollected his spirits, he imagined how the case stood, having seen the night before the amorous and wanton caresses which passed betwixt his Master and Catalina. She asked him whence he came; but he held his peace, hoping that when she perceived he made no answer, she would fall asleep again, and give him an opportunity to steal out of the Chamber. But her mind being wholly bent upon plea­sure, in stead of moderating the excess of her amorous passion, gave her fresh tor­ments, and those so piquant, that being not able to resist the violence of their ar­dour, she redoubled her amorous entice­ments to our supposed Don Sebastian; who being heated with these delicious tempta­tions, began to move, like a frozen Snake laid to a Fire: And indeed had it been a Marble Statue, or a Timon Misanthropos, sworn Enemy to all Man and Woman­kind, being embraced by those lovely Arms more white than Alabaster, kissed by Lips more fresh and ruddy than the Rose or Li­ly, and enticed by Words sweeter than [Page 15]Honey, it had been enought to infuse Life into the former, and make the later for the present suspend his hatred, and be reconci­led to so fair an Enemy.

So this young man, who had so often ad­mired his Mistrisses Beauty, finding himself now so near her, that a Lynx his eyes would have been puzzled to distinguish whether they were one sole Body or two conjoyned, without any more delay shut his eyes to the injury he did his Master, in enriching himself with the richest Jewel he possest, turning to her, kissed sometimes her Alabaster Neck, sometimes her snowie Breasts, and sometimes her Lips more red than Coral, without being able to distin­guish which of them gave him the more delightful taste, and ravishing content: upon which she whispered him, If thou de­sirest to give me life, and all sorts of con­tentments with it, let us proceed to the consummation of our Loves. Who now could be so far insensible, even beyond the dulness of Lead or Stone, who seeing so extraordinary and ravishing a Beauty be­come his Suppliant, would not have imi­tated this our Fresh-water-Soldier, in do­ing what she desired. The more than or­dinary [Page 16]strict embraces, somewhat beyond those of her Husband; the reiterated kis­ses, and wanton gestures, which of a long time past he had given over in those affairs, wrought some confusion in our Donna Margareta, and a violent suspicion of her mistake. The Page at that present, after the act, found himself so afflicted with ap­prehensions of what might ensue, that he could not but fancy his Master's Poniard in his Throat, for a reward of his good Ser­vice. To discover himself to his Mistris, and beg her pardon, he durst not; and to steal away without her knowledge, he was afraid she might discover it in the morning by some innocent raillery with her Hus­band upon the passages of that night, and by that means unwittingly discover that, which could not come into open air with­out his Life to accompany it. These fear­ful apprehensions did so perplex his soul, that it was an even wager whether his past pleasure or present fear were greater, till the former found means to dissipate the la­ter by the invention of this following Stra­tagem.

Donna Margareta had a Waiting-woman for Beauty and Parts much exceeding most [Page 17]of her rank, who had a most signal love for this Page, whose gratitude joyned with her merits, wrought in him a reciprocal affection, testified by his caresses to her, the most endearing his fancy or affection could afford. Their Master had had intel­ligence of these Amours, who being desi­rous to keep his Family clear of such Vi­ces (though you cannot but find how ne­gligent he was to begin with himself) had under the strictest penalties forbidden the continuance of this familiarity, or a fur­ther privity in their Amours, suspecting their designs in those affairs to tend to the same end with his. Valerio (so was our Page called) endeavouring to cloke this present fault by one which was already but too well known, would undeceive his Mi­stris in that affair, which would be the ru­ine of them both if discovered to his Ma­ster by her ignorance; and finding her more than ordinarily astonish'd, and altogether silent, embracing her more straitly than before, he first broke silence, speaking to her as if he had meant it to another.

‘I durst never hope, dearest Chimena, (this was the Girl's name) so happy a reception from thee, searing that our [Page 18]Master's threats had ere this rooted out of thy heart all the affection there plant­ed for me: But since I see thy affection so immovable (said he, and sealed it with a kiss) believe me, my dear Soul, that if no­thing less could purchase thy embraces than the passing a more dangerous Straight than that which Leander stemm'd to enjoy his beloved Hero, the reward I receive in possessing thee, would make the attempt the most inconsiderable thing imaginable. But what is the mat­ter (said he again, reiterating his kisses) my dearest Life? Why art thou silent? Or whence proceeds this astonishment? Knowest thou not that thy Companion, though she may perhaps have espied our secrets, is the faithful Secretary of our Amours, and would as soon die as dis­cover them. On the other side, our Ma­ster, altogether ignorant of what has passed, now finds himself happy in the enjoyment of that lovely Girl thou sawest wait at Table the last night. As for our Mistris, there is no fear of her, who, poor Lady, is at present fast asleep, little suspecting the Treason of her ingrateful Husband.’ With these and such like [Page 19]words, often interrupted by the kisses and embraces he gave her, without leaving any part of her lovely face untouched by his lips, she easily found this was not her Hus­band. At these last words the poor Lady remained more astonished at her Husbands miscarriage and her own misfortune, than Alcmena of old, when Jupiter had enjoy­ed her under the form of Amphitryo.

But seeing there was no remedy, and that if by so strange an accident she had broken her faith and bonds of Marriage, the fault lay not on her side, but that all ought to be imputed to her Husband, to whom God would give the just chastise­ment of his sin by the same means by which he offended others; she then taking a Pen­dant from her ear, which she had forgot to lay by at her going to bed, put it in his hand, saying as low as she could, Take this Pendant, bold young man, by which to morrow morning thou wilt perceive the Treason thou hast acted against thy Master. Upon this the Page, without reply, left her Chamber to hasten to his own, where ar­riving, without being seen by any one, he shut the door after him, and (void of those joys or fears he found with his former Bed­fellow) [Page 20]laid down by his Camerade, who had slept all the while like a Dormouse; his joy being thus doubly augmented, by the thoughts of having enjoyed so eminent a Beauty, and avoided so evident a danger, like a Slave, who in stead of undergoing a miserable Captivity till the payment of his Ransom, finds his Liberty advantageously restored, by the augmentation of a mass of Treasure. And what more immense riches, or more grand felicity could one imagine, to give so complete a satisfaction to a Youth of the age of our fortunate Va­lerio, than the sweet embraces of so com­plete a Beauty as our Donna Margareta? Also this spruce young Blade, being of an excellent humour, did acknowledge the incomparable engagement he had to For­tune for so signal a favour, and forgetting the peril he before endured, he would willingly have dared the Rocks and Waves in the same Vessel in which his Heart was now embarked, if he could but promise himself to find another so favourable re­ception.

Donna Margareta considering Valerio's ready wit and comely stature, his beaute­ous complexion and admirable discretion, [Page 21]was so far from being displeased at what was past, that she preferr'd her Revenge far before her Honour, rejoycing that she had thus quitted scores with her faithless Husband, whom she attended every mo­ment: But seeing the Captain of her Fort came not, she accused her own indiscreti­on for having dismiss'd so valiant a Lieute­nant, who was now endeavouring to re­cruit by a profound sleep the strength he had lost in his former service.

Let us leave him sleeping, and her also to vail her sparkling eyes with her lovely eye-lids; and let us return to our Don Se­bastian, who in the mean time suffers under a Bed miseries enough to balance the plea­sures he had enjoyed upon it, for the rea­sons you shall understand in the ensuing Chapter.

CHAP. II.

DOn Sebastian had not yet pass'd two hours with his beauteous Catalina, but her Husband came knocking at the fur­ther Gaie of the Inn, close by the Stables, which was too far from his Wifes Bed­chamber for the noise to approach her ears. He did not knock there long; for the Ostler who lay over the Stable heard him the first stroke, and had let him in be­fore he needed to make a second. Being entred, he only took off his Portmanteau, and recommended his Horse to the Ostlers care, and taking a Candle, went directly to his Wifes Chamber, where our two Lo­vers were bound in stronger chains than those that ensnated Mars and the Queen of Love. He knocked twice or thrice at the door; but the Wife, who was just then in the height of her speed at her delicious exercise, was not at leisure to answer him, but, like a Woman of good forecast in af­fairs, resolved not to begin another, till she had finish'd what she was about: At last hearing the Open the door, and knock­ings [Page 23]against it showr like Hail, making as if she had been newly awaked from a sound sleep, she answered, in words pronounc'd like one half asleep, half waking, Who is there? 'Tis I, said the Husband. Who are you, quoth Catalina? 'Tis I, I tell thee, replied Roderigo (that was his name) hast thou forgot me? These last words ren­dred her more certain who was at the door, than able to open it, every syllable being a Dagger which seem'd to pierce as deep into her heart as her ears; and all she could then think on to save her self and Don Sebastian, was to make him seek his safety under that Bed upon which he had so lately enjoyed so much delight: And then seeming to be throughly awake, she answered, O Roderigo, my dear heart, thou art happily arrived; stay but a while, till I rise. This while Don Sebastian had time to get under the Bed; but with such sur­prize and astonishment, that he forgot his Cloke that lay upon the Table.

She opening the door, her Husband en­tred, who intending to shew her some Toys he had bought her, laid his Port­manteau upon the Table, which he seeing furnish'd with other things, went to clear [Page 24]it, that he might have more room to di­splay his Ware, where, by misfortune, the first thing he laid hands on was the Cloke.

The Wise considering the extreme dan­ger which her Friends negligence had brought upon them both, if not remedied by her, her ingenuity quickly infused into her this sudden effort of female subtilty: I dare wager, said she, I have left some­thing there; and coming nearer, and ta­king the Cloke, she begun to cross her self infinitely, saying Lord, Lord! was there ever such a Sot as I, to leave that there so openly! If any one but you had entred, I had paid dear for my negligence. The Husband amazed at his Wifes astonish­ment, and crossing her self in that manner, (as if his Horns had made her take him for a Devil) said to her, What means this Cloke, and all this ado? I'le tell thee (said the subtle Gypsie): But stay, continued she, opening the door and looking out, let us be ware that none hears us; and shutting it again she began as followeth.

‘Dost thou not remember a Cavalier that lay here a while ago on his way to Sevil?’ ‘What Cavalier, said he?’ ‘A [Page 25]young Gentleman, said she, which was here about a Month ago, in a Tawney Cloth Sure embroidered with Gold, mounted upon a Bay Horse, with a laced Saddle, with gilded Bit and Stirrops.’ ‘I have forgot, said he.’ ‘Lord, said she, what a memory hast thou! I'le lay thee a Wager I'le make thee call him to mind.’ And thereupon opening her Trunk, she took out a Silver Cup which her Husband had stole from that Cavaliers Butler which she spoke of, and shewing it him, said, ‘The Master of this Cup is he I mean of.’ ‘Oh, oh, said he, I remember him now.’ ‘This same Cavalier, said she, passed this way again about eight days ago, with all his Train; and because it grew late, and the weather was very rainy, he was constrained to take up here: and as soon as they were lighted, every one fell to untrussing their Bag­gage: But one of the Cavaliers being troubled to get off his Portmanteau, by reason of a hard knot on the Cord that tied it, laid by his Cloke upon a Bench in the Yard, that he might the better un­do the knot: So having untied and ta­ken it off, he gave his Horse to an Ostler, [Page 26]and went in with his Portmanteau, for­getting his Cloke. I, who watch'd him carefully hard by, espying his negligence, seeing the Coast clear, went and snatch'd up the Cloke, and lock'd it up so close that none has seen it since. There came in immediately after a Parcel of Carri­ers, and so many others with them, that the House was filled in an instant.’

‘About an hour after, this Cavalier remembring the Cloke, returned to seek it at the place where he had left it; but to no more purpose than to seek a grain of Mustard-seed in a great heap of Stones at midnight, or a Bird after she has left her Nest. It was to no purpose to curse or complain; for I had laid it up safe enough, and hearing him inquire for it, told him, it was to small purpose to look for it now, for if he had left it there, he might be sure it was stole be­fore this time, And he considering how hard it was now to retrive it, there ha­ving been so many People there passing to and again, returned to his Chamber, and confessed by his silence that he could blame none but himself, and so abando­ned it to the Thieve's mercy. In fine, I [Page 27]have kept it here close lock'd up ever since, till this evening, that, as I was going to bed, I took it out, the better to come at thy clean Linen and best Clothes, which I have laid thee there ready against to morrow, thinking thou wouldest not fail to return to night, and I was so heedless to forget to put it up again; and now I warrant thou'lt go sell it, as thou hast done other things, with­out giving me a share (said she, some­what frowning)’ and so concluded her well-framed Lie.

Roderigo fell a laughing heartily at these words, and as one that would not have spared it at such an opportunity, though the Bench had been an Altar, said to her very jocundly, There's no need to take care to provide for thee, that hast such tricks to shift for thy self. By my faith, this Cloke might become S. George himself: We'll sell it, and part the money betwixt us. And turning about to see that none heard him, Upon my soul, said he, the Cloke's as well worth twenty Crowns, as a Thief's worth a Rope: But tell me one thing, for God's sake, Does thy Uncle know nothing of this? My Uncle, said she, with a Pox [Page 28]to him, didst thou think me such a fool? If he had known of it, he would not have been contented under half share. That's well, said Roderigo; for I do not intend him a Penny of it, by my good will: And to morrow I intend to go sell it either at Sante Cruz or Almagro.

Don Sebastian hearing Catalina's subtily, than which nothing else could have avert­ed the present danger, was well contented with the loss of his Cloke, and would willingly it were worth thrice as much, and the Husband gone to sell it, as he said, upon condition he were delivered from the present danger, which had not put him into so great a heat at first, but he found himself now sufficiently cold, by lying all along in his Shirt upon the ground, which, though not much his friend, yet made him almost think he should scarce ever part from it alive.

See here to what perils they expose themselves, who forsaking God, and de­spising his Commandments, launch out from that safe Harbour, into the tempestu­ous Sea of unchaste Love. What Damon guided this Cavalier to neglect the enjoy­ment of a Lady that might vie Beauty with [Page 29] Venus, Wit with Minerva, and Chastity (had not he been Bawd to his own disho­nour) with Diana, which added to his other enjoyments were enough to com­plete all worldly felicity, infringing the sacred Law of Marriage made by the great Lawgiver in Eden, and whose bounty had so amply rewarded him with such pleasure in the performance, to follow with the hazard of Soul, Body, and Reputation, these unclean pleasures, which were by God forbidden upon pain of damnation. Vain man! As if the displeasure of God that precedes, the dangers that accompany, and that repentance that succeeds this for­bidden fruit, were the only advantage for which thou preferr'st it above the lawful. But to proceed.

Roderigo having done talking with his Wife, was going to uncloath himself for bed, there to pass the five Hours yet re­maining betwixt then and morning; but she foreseeing how hard it would be for her to open the door, or the poor Cavalier to pass out through it undiscovered, was forced to bethink her self of another shift, to give him a more certain Passport from his present Purgatory, which was as fol­lows.

[Page 30]O, my dear, (said the subtle Catalina) I had forgot to tell thee I could have given thee a taste of the most excellent Rabadabia. Wine that ever thou hast seen or tasted; and that thou maist judge whether I give it too large an Eulogy, before thou puttest off thy Clothes go down into the Kitchen, where thoul't find a Bottle of it, and a Partridge Leg upon a Pewter Plate. And whence comes all this Good Cheer, said he? A Cavaliers Lady, said she, that lies in the House sent it me last night at Supper. And is there no body come with her, said he? Why dost thou ask, replied the Wife? Why? because (said he) thou speakest of her only, as though she were come by her self. Why, said she, what occasion had I to speak of him, since I had nothing to do with him, but the Wife, in this Discourse? But what need all these words about no­thing? 'Tis because I considered with my self (said the Husband) that if she had been alone, it might be worth my time to try my fortune with her. What fortune should­est thou think to find there, Blockhead, said Catalina, but at the first extravagance thou shouldest begin to utter to her, her Nails should make thy Eyes pay for thy [Page 31]Tongues impertinence; and to make up the full payment of thy impudence, make her Servants reward thee with a Bastinado? Fair and softly, good Catalina (replied Ro­derigo) if the Cuckold her Husband were by, he durst not take this privilege. Good Lord, (said the Wife) I am afraid that ill Tongue of thine will some time give the rest of thy Body cause to curse it: But hold, what noise is that? Pox take him (said Roderigo) 'tis an Oyl-seller; the wide-throated Dog makes such a noise, that I fancy his very words spoil all my Clothes: As God judge me, if I catch him again in the Street disturbing the peo­ple at this time of night, I'le—but I'le say no more; for this long Discourse, and the remembrance of this Divine Liquor have wrought such an alteration in my Throat, that if the Bottle come not quick­ly, it had as good stay away till Dooms­day. Thou wert best go take it presently then, said she; but I wish it be scaped from the roguish Boy that help'd to wait last night, for he loves Wine as he does his Life, and is as ravenous as a Wolf; and if it be there now, and remain till morn­ing, he'l be as sure to be at it then, as I [Page 32]shall be to go to Mass on Sunday. But I'le prevent him, if it be possible (said the Husband) for before God I have more need on't my self; for besides my thirst, it is above six months since I have tasted any of it, which does justly bear a greater price than any other in Spain. And as he was talking on in this manner, he was stooping down to look for a Slipper which was sti­ded under the Beds-feet amongst some Im­plements that lay there; but he could not find it without a Candle, and was there­fore going to take one off from the Table. Catalina seeing her self upon the brink of Perdition, without a sudden invention, leap'd quickly out of the Bed, and snatch­ing hastily the Candle out of his hand, said, Is't possible thou canst not find a Slipper under half an hours time? and looking about the Table, removed the things that lay there, to see if she could find it. Ro­derigo vexed to see his Wife run bare-foot round the Room, said to her in a fury, God's my life, I think thou'rt besides thy self; what needest thou to come out of the Bed, and then to run about bare-foot thus? Thou hast a mind to get a Distem­per that will cost us all we have to cure. [Page 33]Get thee to Bed, and trouble thy self no further; I hope in God my eyes are good enough yet to find a Slipper without the help of thine.

What case Don Sebastian was then in, he that hath ever been in like dangerous exigents may easily imagine; for undoubt­edly, if Catalina as she went had not pre­tended to stumble at the Portmanteau, and thrown down the Candle at the instant her Husband demanded it to look under the Bed, all had been irreparably lost, beyond the help of her crafts and subtilties.

Whilst the Husband in a rage was taking up the Candlestick and Candle, Cata­lina coming to the Bed, put her Arm un­der to grope for the Slipper, and catch'd Don Sebastian by the Foot, who thinking it had been her Husband, was ready to be­take himself to his last remedy, and with a Poniard he had brought along with him force his passage from that danger through the Heart of Roderigo; but hearing no words from them that touch'd him, it wrought a calmer resolve in him: so that Catalina having found the Slipper, gave it to her Husband with a thousand Curses, which were not all capable to do it so [Page 34]much mischief as it had like to have done her. Roderigo had by this time taken up the Candle and Candlestick, and proffer'd them several times to the Devil (if he had had the manners to accept them) for lea­ving him in the dark. The Wife too, being laid down again, asked him whether he was a fool or bewitch'd, that had not the wit to go light it again. He then ask'd her if there were any Fire in the Kitchen. What an impertinent question is that (said she?) Didst thou ever know it without? So Ro­derigo went straight thither to light his Candle. He was no sooner gone, but Ca­talina leap'd out of the Bed, to conduct her Lover from under it; who being de­livered, staid there no longer but to take his last leave of her: And though the cold had almost taken away his senses, he found himself the most overjoyed man in the world, being delivered from so straight and nasty a Prison, though carrying along with him more Gnats and Fleas on his Bo­dy, than Hairs on his Head, enough to stock an Hospital; and carrying along a stink of Piss sufficient to infect the Air about him; and withal so pale and shive­ring, that he was more like a dismal Ap­parition [Page 35]than a Man, so intolerable was the torture he had undergone for the space of two Hours or thereabouts: But all these mischiefs were easily amended by the help of a little repose, and therefore no­thing comparable to that of the Page, which was for ever irreparable. Finding himself in this estate, it went against his conscience to approach his Wife in so nasty a pickle; he thought it fitter to go to the Pages Chamber, where knocking once or twice, he that had robb'd him of his Ho­nour in his Wifes Chastity, whose thoughts of what had pass'd had kept him waking, answered, Who is there? But hearing by the answer that it was his Master, he was quite astonish'd; and the guilt of his fault trightning him with a fear of punishment, infused into his Brain, that his Mistris had discovered all to his Master, who was now come to wash off the Offence with his Blood: His Fear therein blinding his Rea­son, to think that Donna Margareta, whom he knew to be so wise and discreet, would discover so great an infamy to him, from whom of all Persons she had the most cause to hide it, who being the most inte­ressed in it, was most likely to make them [Page 36]both feel the effects of his vengeance; or that she who would rather have suffered the bitterest torments, than reveal the least tittle, should unconstrained discover all. But this young sinner was so troubled in spirit, and his Courage had so left him, that he was quickly covered over with a cold sweat, fearfully trembling, like one half dying of a Fever, whose cold sweats denote the desperate state of the Patient. Having none but that Door to the Cham­ber, nor no Window big enough to leap out at, he went and opened it, and at the same time was ready to kneel down to his Master to beg pardon for his Infidelity; but by the light of the Moon, which was then in the increase, seeing his Visage so mortified and meager, that he seem'd more like a half-starved Beggar, than a man puft'd up with Passion, or transported with Jealousie, recovering his breath, and recollecting his Courage, he framed him­self the best he could to answer his Master, who perceiving his disorder, demanded the reason. Sir, (answered the Page, with a trembling voice, and suitable gesture) the seeing of you in this condition put me into such a disorder, that I fear the remaining [Page 37]part of the night will hardly settle me; for at first not knowing you, I thought it had been some evil Spirit come from the other World to chastize me for my Sins.

Don Sebastian, though almost dead with cold, could hardly restrain his laughter at the words of the subtle Page; and after a charge of secrecy, under the strictest pains, he recounted to him his late dangerous Adventure (who had not yet the manners or ingenuity to keep the Laws of Romance, in requiting him with a Narration of his) and bid him light a Fire to warm him a clean Shirt. There was, by good hap, some Sparks yet alive of the last nights Fire, with which (for want of other Fuel) the Page lighted some Straw which he pul­led from under his Bed, wherewith his half-starved Master warmed himself the best he could. Having at once cast off his foul Shirt, and therewithall his numerous un­welcom Guests, and having smugged him­self up the best he could, he went into his Chamber, slipping as silently into bed to his Wife, as the Snake that slides with his speckled skin over the polish'd Marble; where we will for the present leave him, and return to Catalina's Husband Roderigo, [Page 38]who had beed a long time puffing and blowing at a Cole, with Cheeks swelling out like a pair of Bagpipes (only now and then taking breath to curse) before he could light his Candle; but at last, with much ado, having lighted it, and his thirst for the rare Bottle of Wine being highly inflamed by this toiling amongst Ashes and Fire, he leap'd like Lightning to the Cupboard, his mouth watering extremely (which perhaps had been the cause he had been so long a lighting his Candle) in expectation of the Dainties; when, alas! like the Alchymist, in stead of the longed for Stone, after all his blowing the Coals, he found nothing but empty Alymbecks, the Bottle and Plate as empty as his Head or Belly, which made him presently think the Boy had deceived him, as his Wife feared; for which cause, without second thoughts, he marched straight to the Bed, where finding the Boy sleeping, as innocent of the fact, as ignorant of the danger that attend­ed him, he (without waking him in order to a Tryal) fell straight to Execution, which he performed unmeasurably, with a Cudgel he had found in the corner of the Kitchen. The Boy feeling the blows [Page 39]showr down so thick upon him, thought it had been some of those roguish Spi­rits which he had often heard talk of, that haunted Countrey-houses in the night; and (knowing no better remedy for the present danger) fell to making as many Crosses, and invoking as many Saints as his Master gave him blows. The fear at first astonish'd him more than the blows; but the former vanish'd as the later en­creased: so that seeling the hail encrease so fast, that it had almost broken his Ribs, and beaten his Flesh to a Mummy, which being no longer able to sustain, he leap'd suddenly out of the Bed, and presently knew his Master, who uttered these words, How did you like your Rabadabia, pray Sir, was it good? Was the Partridge leg well roasted and tender? I am sorry I could provide you no better Sawce than this. But the Boy, who neither understood this Heathen-Greek, nor the Riddle of the Bottle which his Master held in his left hand, still repeating these words, and other such like, turned his back to his Ma­ster, and his face towards the Stairs, and endangering his Neck to save his Shoul­ders, at two or three jumps was got down [Page 40]Stairs, still (like a fearful Hind) thinking his Tormenter at his heels, whom he could not well tell whether he was mad or drunk, but judged the later by the empty Bottle. Having performed this unjust chastisement at the instigation of his Wife, who had made a Supper of that for which the Boy was so severely punish'd, and (as we said) used this trick to make way for her Gallant to escape; for she knew that the purchase of such Wine as she had de­scribed this to her Husband, and such Dainties, would encourage him to venture as far as the Argonauts for the Golden Fleece: After this (I say) Roderigo return­ed to Bed to his Wife, recounting to her what a Supper he had given the Boy for robbing him of his, which she approved of, saying, He well deserved it for his saw­ciness; assuring him, there was above a Quart in the Bottle: and for the Par­tridge, there was but a Leg; but it was not so valuable for the quantity as the qua­lity, it being the best she ever saw. With these Discourses, and such like, followed by their Conjugal Caresses and ordinary Embraces, we will leave them to them­selves (it being unfitting to be present at [Page 41]what passed betwixt them) and return to our Page Valerio, who being come to him­self again, and his Master gone from him, went to Bed, there to expect the approach­ing day, without sleeping; finding it better refreshing to him to ruminate on the de­lightful passages of that Night.

CHAP. I.

THe lovely Aurora had already by the clarity of her Beams disco­vered the tops of the Mountains of Sierra Morena, when Don Sebastian's Coachmen, willing that their Master should see their diligence to obey his commands by their timely rising, went to knock at their Ma­sters Chamber-door, to let him know they were ready, not doubting but he was so [Page 43]too, that had given them such charge over­night; but the obscurity which through the Key-hole they perceived to be in the Room, answerered them that they that were within were asleep still. They there­fore returned back, and a while after came again, and were forced to return as at first. So that seeing they made no more haste to rise, they thought of no way bet­ter to pass that time, whilst our last-nights valiant Warriors continued Captives to Sleep, than in a good Breakfast and plenti­ful Mornings-draught.

Donna Margareta was the first that awa­ked, and remembring the passages of the night past, could scarce think them any other than a Dream: But the Pendant, and some other marks she found about her, certified her of the contrary. She would not awake her Husband (who slept like a man throughly wearied and spent with labour; and the noise he made in snoring testified to her the pleasure he took in his rest, and the pains he had taken that night to be as great as hers) but resolving to tell him that she never wak'd all night, but slept till six in the morning, she went to open the Door to her Chamber-maids, [Page 44]who were not far thence attending her call; and having let them in, they brought her her Clothes, and she begun to dress her self, and comb her lovely Hair, which hanging in curious Rings, as so many Snares, displayed more enticements than ever the most ingenious Painter could draw for the Picture of Venus.

Chimena being dressing her Locks, missed the Pendant, and told her it was lost. No (said Donna Margareta) for when it fell I took it up, and gave it to Valerio to keep for me; call him hither, and bid him bring it me. Chimena went to him presently, bidding him bring the Pendant his Mistriss gave him to keep. Valerio, who under­stood his Ladys meaning, who used this trick, fearing that the opinion he might have of having laid with Chimena, might occasion his discovery to her what had pass'd, and so reveal that secret which if not kept close might ruine them both, went instantly to her Chamber, and gave it to her; which she taking with her delicate white Hand, the remembrances of what had passed the night before dyed her Rosie Cheeks into a deep Scarlet. Valerio's confusion also being no less than hers, [Page 45]made him not dare to look her in the face.

By this time Don Sebastian awaking, said to his Wife, My dear, prethee send word to the Coachmen and Grooms that they make not too much haste; for I find my self so indisposed, that it is impossible to rise yet, and I fear we shall hardly go hence till after Dinner. Alas! what is the mat­ter with thee, Dearest, said Donna Marga­reta? Nothing but a little Head-ach, said Don Sebastian; but I hope it will quickly be well with a little rest: Onely prethee let all go out of the Chamber, or make the least noise they can in it, that I may rest quietly. Well, dearest, (said Donna Margareta, ordering the Maids to draw the Curtains and depart) I will go to Mass whilst you sleep: And without further stay, she and her Maids avoided the Room.

Having done her Devotion, as she re­rurned towards her Lodging she saw a Ca­valier, followed by three or four Horse­men, come riding towards her; and near the Cavalier she espied a Lady, the splen­dour of whose Habit bespake her of some Illustrious Family. She was mounted on a white Horse, with a Saddle of Brazile-wood as red as Coral, and richly gilded, [Page 46]the Seat being of Crimson-Taffeta, laid thick with Gold and Silver Lace. She had a loose Riding-garment of Damask, all in­chas'd with Silver, and laced; her Gown­skirts of the same, and the Body of her Gown of Cloth of Gold, with a Hat all covered over with a gallant Plume, which astonished Donna Margareta, to see a Lady so advantageously habited and richly ac­coutred.

They passed near her; and though she was curiously regarding our fair Stranger, she could not discover her face, because it was most part covered with a white Taffe­ta Hood: but her gallant Meen, and grace­ful Carriage did evidently declare, that this Vail concealed as rare a Beauty. They saluted her very courteously, and the Ca­valier said to the Lady he conducted, which we now spake of, as she passed close by Donna Margareta, Madam, this Country, though rough and mountainous, and fruit­ful in little else, does produce as beaute­ous Ladies as the richest, as you may per­ceive by this Lady behind us. By what I perceive (replied the Lady) she is not of this Countrey; or though she were, it is not the first time we have heard of lovely [Page 47]Nymphs (as without vanity we may term this) amongst rugged Mountains. I leave you to judge whether Donna Margareta were not well pleased with these words; but much more when she saw them stop before her Inn, because she was extremely desirous to see if this Ladies face were suitable to her other excellencies. The Cavalier was no sooner arrived at the Inn­gate, but he alighted from his Horse to help the Lady from hers, who at the same time asked the Host what a Clock it was, and taking off her Hood, discovered so beauteous a Face, and imbellished with so many Graces, that the splendour was enough to dazzle the beholders eyes. The Cavalier asked her if she would eat any thing; but she answered, she had more mind to repose her self, being somewhat weary with Travel.

The Host conducted them into a large Ground-room, where they were no soon­er entred with all their Equipage, but the Cavalier went out, to enquire if a Cavalier and his Lady, and all their Train, that were going to Court, had not lain in the House the night before, because they heard at the foot of the Mountain that they were [Page 48]parted from Ʋbeda the day before, and he should be glad to wait on them, because his Niece was desirous of the Ladies com­pany, having heard of her Beauty and Ci­vility. The Host answered him, smiling, I wonder, Sir, your eyes should be so dim, as not to see the Sovereign Beauty you speak of, having her so near you; that is she that is just now entring the Yard, whom you are so desirous should accompany your Niece, which I suppose may easily be compassed, for I guess you go all one way. I know not, answered the Cavalier, whe­the Lady will agree to it. Donna Marga­reta, who had over-heard their Discourse, answered, Yes, Sir; and I shall take it for a great honour. At least, Madam, repli­ed the Cavalier, you will find in the Lady that comes along with me a Sister not one­ly in Beauty and good Grace, but also in her desire to serve you, and in me an hum­ble Servant. On the contrary, Sir, replied Donna Margareta, you and she shall find me ready to serve you upon all occasions: And if my Beauty do not equal that of the young Lady your Niece, yet I will so far endeavour to make amends in the confor­mity of my will to hers, that her desires [Page 49]and mine shall be the same. For me and my Niece, said the Cavalier, I promise you that we will strive by our behaviour in this Journey, to let you see that our chiefest study shall be to please you. Upon this Donna Margareta took leave of him, to go see if her Husband were awake, without giving leave to the Cavalier to renew his obliging language, onely making him the civillest obeisance she could.

Donna Margareta entring her Chamber, found her Husband awake, and ready to arise; whereupon she told him all she had seen, and the good Company she had met with to ease the troubles of the remaining Journey. Don Sebastian was hugely pleas­ed at his Wifes Discourse, principally when she exagerated the Beauty of her that was so desirous of her company; and wish'd that Time's Wings were a little swifter, he longed so to see this Lady, whom his Wife had painted to him with so advantageous a Discourse. He arose very joyful of the contentment which he hoped for from this new Company, which put Wings to his haste in making himself ready, telling his Wife that his Head-ach had left him, and that he found himself so [Page 50]lively, that he should think himself un­worthy of that blessing, if he did not te­stifie his gratitude and satisfaction, by put­ting on the most sumptuous of his Appa­rel; and that besides, it was fit he should appear something extraordinary in such noble Company, to make himself appear in the lustre his Condition required. It this design of changing his Sute occasioned this Discourse, the loss of his Cloke (as you have heard) made him desirous to ac­complish it, the better to conceal his last­nights debauche: So that leaving his for­mer Habit, he took another very gentile one, and asked his Wife how it became him; who told him very well, which pleased him extremely: So taking leave of her for half an hour, he went to Mass.

CHAP. II.

DOn Sebastian was no sooner gone out of the Chamber to hear Mass, but Don Sancho and Donna Leonora (for so were our new Guests named) came in to visit Donna Margareta, who was then discours­ing with Chimena her Maid, about what they had seen in the Church. After Com­plements passed on the one part and the other, they sate down, and passed betwixt themselves all the time till Don Sebastian returned from Mass, entertaining one ano­ther with words so charming, that none but those two could have made such Com­plements with so good a grace, and with such gentile reparties as passed betwixt them in this first encounter, and those ex­pressed with so brave an air, that one would have thought that Love had given them his Artifice, to ravish the hearts of all the Hearers. These Entertainments lasted pretty long, till Donna Margareta calling to mind a Person whom she had formerly loved as dearly as her life, and whose Por­traicture she fancied she saw drawn to the [Page 52]life in the Face of Donna Leonora, could not speak so discreetly as before, nor give such sharp or subtle replies to Donna Leo­nora, who asked her a thousand questions; for her fancy was so fixed on that dear ob­ject, that it had no room left for other concerns. Donna Leonora knew, but dis­sembled her knowledge of the disorder of her spirit, and not seeming to take notice of it, rising up, and taking her by the hand, she said,

‘Madam, 'tis a general Rule, That to Persons who enjoy a great contentment, the time seems so speedy, that though they continued a whole Age in that fe­licity, it would all seem to have slipp'd away in a moment. At this time I have had a full Experiment of the verity of this Assertion; for though effectually I have had a large enjoyment of your sweet Conversation, yet methinks I am but just entring upon the brinks of that de­light: Wherefore, Madam, (said she, with a low obeisance) I hope you will pardon me if I have been troublesom in this my first Visit, which is the first and greatest happiness I have received of Fortune, in making me happy in the [Page 53]knowledge of so deserving a Lady.’ And as Donna Margareta was desiring her to sit down again, and with a thousand caresses to let her know the content and honour she took it for, to be visited by a Lady of her quality, upon this Don Sebastian entred, who seeing his Wife in so good company, he (being a complete Courtier) accosted them the best he could, and with very great civility. Donna Leonora returned him hers very gracefully, with whose Beauty he was infinitely charmed, and fancied to himself he never saw a more complete one. They began anew their Entertainment, and in less than an hour all their four humours were so exactly conformable, and in so much pleasure and contentment, that af­ter the communicating of one anothers Affairs, and the causes of their Journeys, they contracted amongst themselves an in­violable Friendship, as you may remark in the Sequel of this History.

And for this happy encounter which every one of them had made, they resolved to stay there that day, which they intend­ed to spend in Sports and Pastimes. The pretty Catalina did not fail in employing her utmost dexterity amongst them in their [Page 54]Plays and Dances; but Don Sebastian had his mind so firmly fixed upon a more wor­thy Subject, that he had no room for ad­miring her excellencies, though all the rest did highly esteem them. Donna Marga­reta, who fancied that she saw in Donna Leonora the lively Image of one who had formerly captivated her Affections, revol­ved in her mind the continual thoughts of their former Amours, and the contentments which she and her Lover had formerly en­joyed.

The heaviness and trouble which feised her at the remembrance of so sweet fore­past joys, wrought in her the secret Di­scourses following.

‘O happy time, in which I enjoyed the sight of my adored Don Carlos! O fortunate season! Would God that lo­sing the enjoyment of so delicious a plea­sure as I was blessed with during thy short hours, in the company of so dear a Person, I had therewith lost the re­membrance of the good which I see my self deprived of in losing thee. And thou, Angel or Phantasm, which repre­sentest in different Habits the self-same Lineaments and sweet Behaviour, tell [Page 55]me, I say, dear Spirit, if he thou repre­sentest do still continue his affection for me, and for whom I now feel revived in me the torments I formerly suffered for him.’

These Complaints, and others such-like, were forging in the Breast of Donna Mar­gareta, whilst Donna Leonora was making her a thousand caresses. On the other side, Don Sebastian and Don Sancho, who with divers sorts of Recreations diverted the Company, obliged Donna Margareta to keep time with the rest, and by imitating them, strive the best she could to allay the torment which was caused in her by those piercing eyes, which opened afresh those wounds which Love had made when she was in her Father's House.

Our beauteous and complaisant Com­pany passed all the day, as you have heard, in all sorts of Sports and Recreations; and after Supper they resolved to depart the next day early in the morning, which made them go to bed the sooner, but every one with different thoughts. Some of them slept soundly, the others still discoursing to themselves upon that which their Ima­ginations propounded to their Judgments, [Page 56]while seeking the means to give satisfaction to their desires, they found a deprivation of the sweetness of sleep, which finding the doors of their Senses shut against his as­saults, went nimbly from one of them to the other to seek a retreat, till the weariness of their Bodies abating the forces of their Spirits, constrained them by his hands to pay the Tribute due to Nature.

They all awaked with the dawning of the morning, and made themselves ready with all expedition, sutable to their desires of making a good large Journey that day, bidding the Coachmen make ready the Coach presently, whilst the others truss'd up the Baggage, and they paid their Rec­koning. Don Sebastian, Don Sancho, and the two Ladies, with Chimena and Scintilla their Maids, went into the Coach; and the rest of their Servants, mounted upon Mules, rode before them. Whilst the Coach went smoothly along, the Cava­liers and Ladies entertained the time with such agreeable Discourses and amorous Conceits, expressed in such charming Lan­guage, that it would have ravish'd the best Wits to have heard the politeness of their Talk, and the union of their Minds.

[Page 57]They so diverted themselves with this agreeable conversation, that the way did not at all seem long to them; so that they arrived at Almagro, when they thought they had scarce been clear of the Suburbs of Viso: and joyful of having cleared so much ground in so short a time, they dined with a good appetite, and passed the rest of the day in viewing the Town, which is a very pretty one. The night being come, they went to bed, and so soon as the day begun to appear, and the Rays of the Sun to gild the tops of the Mountains, they pursued their Journey, without letting slip any moment which was not employed in most agreeable divertisements. They dined that day at Malagon, and after continued their Journey with their wonted Pastime: But whilst the rest of the Company thought on nothing but these pleasures, Donna Leonora began to complain of the Head-ach, which in the instant changed all their content­ments into plaints and regrets. Donna Margareta was the first that came to help her, and bound a Handkerchief fast about her Head, which notwithstanding, she still continued the complaint of her afflicting malady. Her sighs and groans were so [Page 58]many thunder-claps to Don Sebastian, each of which split his Heart asunder: His pas­sion he had for her at first sight, was now chang'd from love to pitty, joyn'd with ex­treme sorrow, fearing that death like a sudden inundation, should drown this new-discovered pleasant Countrey, ere he had time to take possession.

Donna Margareta supported this disaster with no less Commotion of spirt; her outward behaviour witnessing to the Be­holders, that her inward malady was no­thing inferior to hers whom she bewailed. Don Sancho too seemed very much afflicted by his Nieces disaster, seeming no less con­cern'd lest some further mischief might come to her before they could get her to the Inn of the Carçuela, which made him earnest to know of the Coachmen how far it was thither, by whom he was informed, that it was not above a Bow-shoot or two at the most, which much alleviated their sorrows. Donna Leonora desired her Uncle to take her out of the Coach, that she might take the benefit of the Air, which he did, and at the same time all the rest of the Company did the same. Don Sebastian and Don Sancho took her by the Arms, and [Page 59]conducted her to the Inn, where they were no sooner arrived, but a great swooning so dissipated her Spirits, that they feared she had breathed out her soul in a sigh she gave, sinking down upon their Arms. This so afflicted all the Company, that they were in little better case than she, having scarce power left to run to aid her. Donna Mar­gareta was the first, who seeing her dear Companion, the lovely Pourtraicture of her beloved Don Carlos, in that condition, presently sprinkled her face with cold wa­ter, mixed with the warm tears which this sorrowful spectacle extracted from her fair eyes, which in a little time reduced her Spirits to their former function.

He that should dream of being con­demned to a cruel and ignominious death by a Sovereign Tribunal, from whence lay no Appeal, and from whence no Mercy could be hoped for, could not be more joyful when with his sleep he finds himself delivered from these black and dismal ap­prehensions, the terror of which had dis­solved him into sweat, than our Compa­ny, seeing their spirits revived together with those of Donna Leonora. One was so transported with this sudden joy, that he [Page 60]had almost lost the sense of it: The others beholding in the sweet (though languish­ing) eyes of our sick Lady two glistering Stars, with which Love, drawing the cur­tains, and dissipating the clouds of her eye-lids, astonished the beholders, were more amazed than the solitary Shepherd, who having never been out of the sight of his own homely Cottage, comes to view the proud and sumptuous Buildings of stately Courts and opulent Cities.

Having laid her upon a Bed, they went to fetch her some refreshments, the fittest for one in her condition to take. Donna Margareta's sollicitous care would not per­mit her to leave the Beds side, but, like the Mother that has lost her onely Infant, the repository of all her worldly comfort, and finding another the exact Picture of it, does kiss and cherish it with her tenderest affections, still supposing to hold in her Arms the true one, which Death had cru­elly deprived her of: So this afflicted La­dy, seeing her dear Don Carlos his Picture in the face of Donna Leonora, testified her satisfaction in tender kisses and gentle em­braces, the sick Lady not moving her head the while; onely to witness to Donna Mar­gareta [Page 61]the content she took in her Caresses, she joyned her Lips to hers, and kissed her with such tender sighs, that she seemed even to swoon betwixt her Arms.

But though 'tis fit my Pen should take a little scope to ramble in this Narrative, 'tis convenient it therein take the shortest path to arrive at the mark at which it aims, and the Reader impatiently expects: And my opinion is clearly this, That to recount Adventures of this nature, it is improper to amuse the Reader with unpro­fitable Circumlocutions, who for the most part troubled with a tedious and superflu­ous Discourse, casts it carelesly in a corner of the Room, there to lye contemned for an impertinent Prater. This for the future I intend diligently to observe, though hi­therto I may seem to have been somewhat peccant. Therefore, Reader, take a little breath, and prepare thy attention, if thou beest curious to know what is contained in the ensuing Chapter, whose pleasure may chance deserve thy attention in the reading, if their novelty do not cause thy admira­tion when read.

CHAP. III.

THe Sun already wearied with having run so long a course through the te­dious Circle of the spacious Zodiack, was disharnessing his Horses, to plunge with them into the Ocean, his ordinary noctur­nal Retreat; and the serene unclouded, though somewhat darkned Sky, was alrea­dy expecting the approach of beauteous Cynthia, when Don Sebastian and Don San­cho came to present Donna Leonora with their Conserves and Sweet-meats; but her chearful Countenance had already display­ed the Flag of Health, and her pleasant Words discovered the lightness of her Heart. This (says she) was nothing but a sudden qualm; but now, I thank God, I find that quite vanish'd, and my perfect Health taken possession of its former habi­tation: In the mean time, like sick persons let us eat these Confectures, and as heal­thy take care for Supper to be made ready; and to make it appear that I am now so perfectly well, that your further care of me is needless, I intend to sup amongst [Page 63]you, and with my wonted contentment re-enjoy our former diversions.

She had no sooner said this, but all, to testifie the interest they had in her reco­very, studied who should invent the most pleasant Stories and new Divertisments to please her, till a Page interrupted them, by telling them Supper was already upon the Table. After Supper, for their better di­gestion, they took a turn in the Fields near the Inn, and after returned to the House, with a design to go to Bed betime, and or­dered the Hostess to lay clean Sheets upon the Bed. But she whose Head was little troubled with that care, as one that had seldom been used to make more Beds in the House than her own, answered them admiringly, saying, I wonder, Gentlemen, that you, who, I am sure, have travelled not onely this Road, but through all Spain, should be ignorant that many Inns, especially in such a Desart place as you may know this to be by the very name of it (which is called The Spanish word çarças, ssgnifies thorns and briers. Carçuela) have no more Beds but for their own Families; which is the reason that all Travellers strive to stretch on to the next great Town, [Page 64]and never stay to lie there, no more than you, I suppose, would have done here, had it not been for this Ladies Distemper: But all that I can do for you, is to give these Ladies my Bed: And for you, Gentlemen, the inconvenience you will suffer this night for want of a Bed, will serve to moderate your joy for the Ladies sudden recovery, and you may pass your time the best you can by saying your Prayers in this Book (throwing a Pack of Cards upon the Ta­ble) for there is no other remedy, if you dispute till to morrow.

We must be contented then, said Don Sancho, and let us shuffle the Cards; for Caesar himself has suffer'd a great deal more hardship, when he travell'd through Germany in the midst of Winter amongst Ice and Snow. I wish (said Don Sebastian) this may be the greatest mischief that I shell ever be forced to undergo; for it is not long since, in a Night-adventure (mean­ing that at Viso) I would gladly have bought this safe divertisement at a good many Du­cats: But go you to Bed, Ladies (said he) if you please; for for our parts, we will endeavour to divert our selves at Picquet, or some other Game, and pass the night as [Page 65]merrily as we can: And you, Madam Leo­nora, be sure you do nothing to my Wife; for if you do, you and I must quarrel to morrow morning, if I know it. They all laughed at these words of Don Sebastian; and the Ladies would have excused them­selves from going to Bed, because they thought it uncivil to lye at their ease, whilst the two Cavaliers suffered the in­commodity of sitting up. Upon this, the Host arriving, said to them, Pray Ladies go to Bed; for I intend to play this Purse of Reals with my Masters here, and I should not be well content to have you by, for the sight of a suspected person is not more offensive to a jealous man, than the presence of a Wife to him that plays with her Hus­band. These, and some such other Di­scourses, took up a certain space of time, till the Ladies, vanquish'd by the importu­nity of the Company, went to Bed, and left the Cavaliers to their Gaming.

CHAP. I.

NOT to hold you long in in suspence about what I have to say in the ensuing Discourse, I will imitate the Painter, who having compleated the Picture of a beauteous Woman, does with two strokes of his Pencil upon her Face, two upon her Breast, and two betwixt her Thighs, change her instantly into a Man: So I at present will in less than six words endeavour to change Donna Leonora into [Page 67] Don Carlos; not with prodigious Stories, and alledging things that never were, but onely let you know in short, that Don Car­los was the Son of a certain Duke, whose name we shall for certain reasons conceal, as being unnecessary to this Narrative: It may suffice to say, that his House was not far from that of Donna Margareta's Father. For his Beauty I refer to what is said already, I having before exaggerated it to so high a perfection under the Habit of a Woman, that the fairest of this time might have just cause to envy it. It may yet seem miraculous to find in Don Carlos so rare a Beauty as we have described, who though never so complete and handsom a Cavalier, should in this disguise seem but foul and deformed, compared to the ex­cellency of Female Beauty; or that he, in so different a Habit from his own, should so dexterously behave himself after the Customs and Gallantries of a Lady. I must onely say, to remove this difficulty, that Don Carlos was a man of a Beauty far beyond the ordinary Masculine one, and so always esteemed by those that saw him; and his wit and address, joyned to the boldness which Love infused into him, [Page 68]made him every way so complete, that I question whether Achilles made a better Girl when he courted King Lycomedes his Daughter in that Habit; or whether Ju­piter took a better shape, when he enjoyed his Calisto in that of Diana. Don Carlos was sent by the Duke his Father at the age of sixteen to study at Osmus, an University whose Learning, that flourisheth there, has made it sufficiently known throughout Spain. In this place lived Donna Marga­reta's Father, whose House was directly opposite to Don Carlos his Lodgings, who the first time he saw her appear through the Window, more beauteous than the Sun rising from the East, quickly became amorous of her; and it was needless for Love to represent the charms of her Beau­ty a second time, because at this first view he became so smitten, that he yielded up his Liberty to her disposal, sacrificing his Heart to his fair Deity. Time, and Ne­cessity the mother of Diligence, and Love the Mistriss of Invention, gave means to our new Lover to discover his Affections to Donna Margareta, who no less sensible than he of the wounds of Love, accepted the tender of his Service, and gave him [Page 69]her Heart in exchange. These Amours continued still encreasing by degrees, whilst none perceived them; but at last their passion so far augmented, that it was impossible to conceal it any longer; and they having no other remedy but a free enjoyment, for those pleasing Flames that consumed their Hearts, resolved to come to the point to which all Lovers tend; which they had accordingly done, had they not been interrupted by the following mis­fortune.

Don Carlos his Tutor perceiving, amongst others, his new Affection, thought fit to reveal it to his Father, to avoid bearing the blame of his Pupil's fault; for so now a days we term the Love of the Rich to their Inferiors in Estate, which with the Anci­ents was the least thing considered amongst Treaties of Marriage, who set a far higher value upon Vertue than Money: For what greater happiness can a man enjoy, howe­ver highly he be advanced in Fortunes fa­vour, than in stead of the dross of tempo­ral Riches, to enjoy a Woman rich in the more pure ones of Wit and Vertue, which hath been the chief accomplishment desi­red in a Wife even by the most Barbarous Nations.

[Page 70]Don Carlos his Father violently startled at the news of these Amours, took Post immediately to break them, and in a short time arrived at Osmus, just time enough to prevent the Marriage, which was then up­on point of celebration. This was to them as it happens to a Pilot, who being come even in view of the Harbour desired, and thereby free from suspecting a stop or mis­hap, finds himself suddenly, by the vio­lence of Winds, and fury and impetuosity of the Waves, driven to a Haven which of all others he would have avoided: Even so our Lovers sped; for the Duke coming, after he had sharply chid his Sons offence in the neglect of his Duty, and contracting Marriage without his Fa­thers consent, for his Penance he enjoyn'd him two years Exile in Flanders, judging (and indeed rightly) that nothing but ab­sence was able to cure his Sons distemper: After which he reproached the Father of Donna Margareta, for going about to make a Match so unequal and injurious to him, as that of his Daughter with the Dukes Son. Don Pedro (that was the name of Donna Margareta's Father) excu­sed himself, saying, that this was the first [Page 71]time he ever heard of it; and that he was infinitely sorry his Children should be the occasion either of displeasing or incom­moding him, since none was more his Ser­vant than he: But, Sir, (continued he) be pleased somewhat to undeceive your self; for there is perhaps no such inequality in it as you suppose: for though you be Duke, I am a Gentleman of so good a House, that my Ancestors have no reason to give place to yours, either in Nobility, Vertue, or Merits, but rather in some things have much the advantage; for some of them have governed the Kingdom of Castile with Name and Dignity of Vice-Roys, which, under favour Sir, is more than I suppose yours could boast of.

These words so provoked the Duke, that he laid hold on his sword to revenge the injury upon Don Pedro, who likewise drew his to defend himself; and if some Cavaliers their Friends had not opportune­ly arrived to part them, there had un­doubtedly some mischief ensued: But all things being appeased, they separated, the one home, and the other with his Son Don Carlos to conduct him into Flanders.

Don Pedro, to stop the mouth of the ig­norant [Page 72]Vulgar (which is always readier to defame than to praise any one) from utter­ing words to his Daughters disadvantage, resolved to marry her, which he did snott­ly after, through a Friends means, with Don Sebastian, who is at present the Sub­ject of this Narration.

Don Carlos had not yet finish'd the first year of his Exile, when a Courrier from his Mother brought him news of his Fa­thers death, ordering him upon receit of that Letter to take Post and return speedily for Spain. Whether he received this news joyfully or no, I am not certain, and am as unwilling to discover my Conjectures in these lines, because a natural shame, proper to all good Christians, restrains my Hand, and stops my Pen, and makes me confess that nothing ought to be put in parallel with the Love of our Parents; though Love hath so absolute and puissant an Empire over the Soul, that in former Ages we may read, and in our own see many horrid Examples of the most inhu­mane and bloody faults that Humane Na­ture is capable to invent, exercised with the greatest Barbarity imaginable upon their own Blood, to satisfie the bruitish [Page 73]appetite which this furious passion excites in them which are possessed with it, and yield up themselves to the rule of its Ty­ranny.

Though Don Carlos (suitable to Cava­liers of his Age and Constitution) had contracted new Amours since his being in Flanders, yet now seeing his way so plain, and all the difficulties removed which not long before combated his designs, all ob­stacles now being buried in the Grave of his Father, however engaged in other pro­mises of Love in Flanders, his inconstant humour continually brought into his fan­cy the memory of Donna Margareta, which represented her to him with the same per­fections she before possessed, which so re­doubled his ardent desire for her, (backed with the consideration of the delights and joys they had formerly interchanged) that he resolved to marry her, and to quit his in­terest in any that could claim a title to his Affections in Flanders.

Thus resolved, he left Bruxells, without taking leave of any one; and transported with the hopes of seeing Donna Margare­ta, he made such a quick dispatch of his Journey, that he arrived at his own home [Page 74]in less than fifteen days, where he staid on­ly to refresh himself after his wearisom Journey, and to pay his last duty to the memory of his dead Father; which done, he went for Osmus, there to consummate his intended Marriage: But arriving there, he understood from his ancient Host that his Mistris was already married, which so afflicted him, and reduced him to so pittiful a condition, that his Physicians al­most concluded his state to be desparate: At last considering with himself that all his grief and melancholy were unprofitable to the cure of his Distemper, and seeing the impossibility of enjoying her as a Wife, he resolved at least to make her his Mistris. With this resolution he left Osmus as se­cretly as he could, to go for Ʋbeda, Don Sebastian's ordinary abode, where he was no sooner arrived, but he heard that Don Sebastian in few days intended to go to Court with his Wife.

Don Carlos hereby seeing his hopes fru­strated, and that this sudden departure would hinder him from seeing her for whom his heart daily consumed in such ar­dent Flames, began so to afflict himself with his misfortune, that his Domesticks [Page 75]could not hope for a long continuance of his life. Don Sancho, one of his Gentle­men, seeing his Master in so miserable a condition, his compassion made him as­sume the boldness to ask the cause. Don Carlos having often experimented Don San­cho's ability and dexterity in most Affairs, and that he was of a most subtle and in­ventive wit, made no difficulty of revealing his distemper to him, upon hopes of recei­ving from him some ease and consolation for his Passion, which the other, without long consulting about the Cure, after his Master's discovering his Wounds to him, told him in few words as followeth: The best advice, Sir, I can at present think on, is, that disguising your self in a Womans Habit, you overtake them at some Inn up­on the Road, pretending you are to go the same Journey with them: and for the rest, trust it to me; for I engage within two or three days Journey to bring you to Bed to­gether, without the least suspicion from the Husband: For being attired in Womans Habit, the clearest eye or the subtilest wit will never be able to distinguish your Sex through the beauty and delicate com­plexion of your Face.

[Page 76]Don [...] would never have consented to this D [...]g [...]se, had not Don Sancho made him comprehend that it was the on­ly means possible to compass his designs without either difficulty or danger. Fi­nally, his Reasons made our young Duke resolve to follow his advice, and therefore gave order for the making of Womens Habits, the richest imaginable, and another Womans Habit (not so rich as his) for his Page, whom he intended to turn into a Chamber-maid. They parted from Ʋbeda the same day that Don Sebastian set out with Donna Margareta; but it was pretty late in the evening first, to prevent his be­ing seen in that Habit by some that might know him, which was the reason that he reached not Viso till the next morning at nine of the clock, where they found Don Sebastian and his Wife, as you have heard.

You know now the substance and reasons of all that is past, as well as my self: Read now what the next Chapter contains, and you will find in it as much content and sa­tisfaction as in the former.

CHAP. II

WE broke off the Thred of our Di­scourse where Don Sebastian and Don Sancho bid Good-night to Donna Margareta and Donna Leonora, who were then going to Bed, and having taken leave of all the Company, the Hostess conduct­ed them to their Chamber, which was well furnish'd the. Host being a rich Fellow. Being entred, their Waiting-maids undres­sed them, and they went to bed together. The Maids having drawn the Curtains, de­parted the Room, locking the Door after them, as Donna Leonora had ordered, that none might enter to disturb them. After this, the Maids and the Hostess, for want of a Bed, went and sate down by the Fires side, where they passed the night as merri­ly as they could, with the old Stories which the Hostess had heaped up together in her youth.

Don Carlos finding himself so near that object which of all others in the World he loved the best, feared to discover himself presently, lest the sudden excess of so great [Page 78]and unexpected contentment should cause some finister and dangerous accident, as it once hapned to two Lovers at Madrid, whose sudden & unexpected happiness cau­sed them to expire in one anothers Arms: But Don Carlos, sometimes kissing her snowie Breasts, sometimes her Lips, more pleasant and sweet than the richest Spices of Arabia, made her all the time all the amo­rous Caresses that he could invent. Donna Margareta returned him the like, adding a hundred sorts of Miguardizes and de­lights, and with so much liberty, that Don Carlos no longer holding out against so ma­ny Assaults without, and Traitors within, discovered to her by little and little (with many gentle Love-sighs intermix'd) who he was, and all the Discourse that you have already heard.

A Father that has already given over his dear and only Son for lost, has not more contentment to find him safe, and embrac'd in his aged Arms, than our Donna Marga­reta when she heard these words from her dearest Friend: but the strangeness of it so fastned her Tongue to the Roof of her Mouth, that she could not express her amazement in one sole word: Yet at length [Page 79]rallying her spirits, and the disloyalty of her Husband working as great a compli­ance in her as the tenderness of the others affection, these two passions at once so firmly assaulted her, that she embraced him with all imaginable affection. O Lo­vers infinitely happy! What Pen, though guided by the most ingenious Poet in the World, could describe those ravishing joys and incomparable delights in which your souls so straightly intwined, do now so amply bathe themselves? What under­standing can be so fruitful as to attain to a Style sufficient to express the happy state in which you now find your selves? For my part, I freely confess, that the fluency of my Pen, or strength of my Wit are not able to attain to the accomplishment of that design. Let it suffice then, friendly Reader, to tell thee, That the Cock had already often chearfully saluted the ap­proaching day, when our Lovers were still Captives to Sleeps irresistible Power.

Let us leave them amongst their Miguar­dizes, and return to Don Sebastian and Don Sancho, who, though the Sun was pretty well advanced on his way to our Hemisphere, and their Host had left them [Page 80]with thirty Crowns gains, yet continued their Gaming as hard as ever, the one to endeavour the recovery of a hundred Pi­stols which he had lost, and the other to prolong the joy his Master then possest in the embraces of fair Donna Margareta without disturbance; which was the cause that our Lovers had time not only to con­template one another by the Light of the Chamber, but also to recount their seve­ral Adventures after so long an absence, and how for the future they should regu­late their Affairs to conceal their Amours from the World. And as the time flies swiftly from those that pass it so delight­fully, so our Lovers thought of nothing less than rising, though the Sun was got a pretty height, till hearing their Maids en­ter the Chamber, they resolved (though most unwillingly) to rise, and cloath them­selves speedily, for fear lest Don Sebastian and Don Sancho should find them abed, being advertised by their Waiting-maids that they were ready to visit them, because Don Sebastian the loser had at two Games recovered a good part of his Money, and was willing to give over with the loss of fifty Crowns.

[Page 81]The Ladies were no sooner drest, but the Cavaliers entred their Chambers to give them the Bon-jour, and know how they had rested; telling them how they had passed the night, and how the Games had gone through all the Play, concluding with the Praises due to Heaven for the hap­py recovery of Donna Leonora: Yet there were some who (according to custom) said she was hardly throughly recovered, be­cause she looked somewhat thinner and pa­ler than ordinary. Finally, all things be­ing ready for a march, they took leave of their Host and Hostess, who could hardly contain themselves for joy that they had thriven so well by that nights Adventures. Let us a while leave them to congratulate their good hap, and whilst the Coach is running smoothly along, let us a while give scope to our fancies, to consider the deceits that are in the World, and with what crafts and subtilties this sensual Ap­petite will plain and smooth the greatest rubs and difficulties that oppose the satis­faction of its inordinate desires.

Can any man in the World reasonably boast to know better secrets for the pre­venting the wanton slips of a Wife, than [Page 82]to guard her with as many eyes as Argus, placing more Sentinels in the House than a wise and provident Captain would do in a Town ill fortified and hard to be defended; for there where suspicions and jealousies reside, we may easily infer that they are matched with care and vigilance, and a man whose spirit is tormented and disquie­ted with these two Passions, is continually upon his guard. Let a man watch as long as he will, and fix all his cares upon that design; let him even exhaust his spirits with more crafts and devices than Dedalus of old, when he invented the Cretan Laby­rinth: After all this, I am clearly of opi­nion, that it is as impossible for a man to defend his Honour and his Wifes Chastity from the Attaques of a potent pursuer, who assaults his Wife with Courtship, and batters her with fair words, and un­dermines her and corrupts the Sentinels with Presents, or deceives them all by Stratagems (especially if her passions and inclinations be on his party) as to hinder the Sun, when he is for some few minutes eclipsed, to return to light us in four days time, or to confine his Rays for fifteen days together to the tops of the Pyrenaean Moun­tains, [Page 83]without suffering Night to cover the face of the Earth with her dark and ob­scure Veil. Admit but a few Examples. What should we think of Danae's Tower, Atalanta's Swiftness, Calisto's Honesty, Lucretia's Chastity, King Lycomedes his Vigilancy, Juno's Jealousie, the strict guard kept upon the Vestals Purity? What should we judge, I say, of this, but that all the Industry of all the Fathers, Husbands, Bro­thers, Wifes, and Kindred before mentio­ned, were not capable to prevent Jupiter, Tarquin, Achilles, and and all the rest, from wreathing themselves with the Branches of those Trees which they had so diligently fenced? For there is no Stone so hard, but the continual dropping of Water upon it will make a breach and decay it; nor no Ox so unruly, but he is at last made plia­ble to the Yoke; no Mine, but may be countermined; No Fortress so high, or so difficult of ascent (if Philip of Macedon may be credited) over which an Ass laden with Gold cannot pass; not any Husband so vigilant, as to be able to hinder the di­ligent cares and subtle underminings of a Lover from ruining the Fortress of his Ho­nour. See but the conclusive Example of [Page 84]Don Carlos, and consider what Husband, though ever so jealous or politick, could have prevented the success of such well-founded Designs? Who would have in­vented such a subtilty as that of Don San­cho, or imagined that a Spanish Duke, the Gravity of whose Nation even out-does Gravity it self, should suffer himself to be so blinded by so disordered and vile a Pas­sion? And yet Antiquity assures us, that a famous old Poet whose renown has so long taken up such room in the World, made himself be let down in a Basket through a Window for the Love of a Wo­man. I conclude therefore, that it is no wonder Don Sebastian fell thus twice into an accident which he was neither suspici­ous of, nor provided against; since the most subtle and suspicious do daily the same. But you may wonder at me, that I make so many Considerations upon what serves so little to my Business; that I thus give wing to my Quill, to precipitate me, like another Icarus, into a Sea of vain Ima­ginations, without having any other re­ward for my Error than a thousand Sur­names of Fool and Ignorant. I take Hea­ven to witness, it is not in my power to [Page 85]do otherwise, though I am often more vexed and enraged at my own prolixity, than any one else can possibly be: And then it happens to me as to a Horse unaccusto­med to a large Carriere, who at first start­ing, flurts sometimes to the right hand and sometimes to the left, making a de­formed O [...] running at the Ring. Caracol: So always when my Pen would begin to write after a long diverted Narration, my Fancy finds it self so dull and defective, that it is very difficult for it to return to the Clew of the Discourse which it left before, and wind it up hand­somly, without making a great many no­torious faults and knotty incongruities.

CHAP. III.

IT is accounted twenty Miles from the Inn of Carçuela to the famous City of Toledo; The way is so fair and even, in com­parison of that which we have left behind us, that a Coachman coming there can hardly make his Horses go quietly, they find the Coach come so lightly along. This alacrity brought them with all speed imaginable within sight of Toledo, the beau­ty and stateliness of whose Buildings cau­ses no small admiration in the beholders. Our Ladies here were desirous to alight within half a League of the City, to take a view of that stately Castle which is so singular an Ornament to the City, where the silver Streams of the River Formerly cal­led Tagus. Tayo, conducted by the in­comparable Art of the fa­mous Jago of Cremona in the Dutchy of Milan, arise more pure than the most po­lish'd Crystal, falling into most costly and curiously wrought Fountains in the Courts of the Castle. Their curiosity also made them desirous to take a view of the magni­ficence [Page 87]and incomparable Grandeur of the principal Church in which the happy Ilde­sonsus received the A sort of Copes warn by the Priest at Mass. Chasuble from the Hands of the Bles­sed Virgin Mother of God.

All these Rarities, and many others, which this fair Prospect discovered, did so delight the Women, and especially Donna Margareta and her Waiting-Gen­tlewomen, that they begg'd of Don Seba­stian to spend four or five days in that Ci­ty, that they who had never before seen such Magnificences, might have a more leisure view of these. Don Sebastian, to whom all things were indifferent, provided he enjoyed but the fight of Donna Leonora, who was the Center of all his Desires, and the sole Object of his Affections, answer­ed, ‘Thou dost not consider, my Dear, that my Will so depends on that of our Noble Company, that without them I can resolve on nothing.’ ‘I question not (replied Donna Margareta) to ob­tain this favour of Don Sancho, if it be your pleasure: And as for Donna Leo­nora, it is enough that she is a Woman, and therefore of the same curiosity of seeing Novelties, as well as of the same [Page 88]Sex with me, and thereore I need not doubt of her consent.’ ‘Our chance in this is very sinistre (replied Don Sancho) to be intreated where we ought to be Suppliants, For I have in Toledo an Af­fair of very important concern, which I can conveniently dispatch whilst I tarry here; and I assure you, Sir, that my care of my own Concerns in this was so small, that if Donna Margareta had not desired to stay here, I had passed on with­out mentioning it, for fear of losing such charming Company.’ ‘We have been very unhappy (answered Don Seba­stian) in this, that through all this Jour­ney my Wife and I have had no more opportunity to manifest the amity and affection we have for you, since you could doubt of our granting you that which my Wife made no question of ob­taining without difficulty of you.’

Their Discourses had proceeded further, for Don Sancho (being an excellent Cour­tier) had his Answer ready, if Donna Leo­nora had not said, ‘The fault is in my Un­cles want of Courage; for he is so bash­ful, that I that am but a Woman, do often both say and do things which my [Page 89]Uncle would not have the boldness to do, for fear of being troublesom.’ ‘Tru­ly (said Don Sancho smiling) I may chance find occasion to be revenged on you both more effectually than you would perhaps desire, and make one of you grant me to be a troublesom Friend, and the other a hardy man.’ ‘Let us for the present wave these Complements (said Donna Margareta) and mind our way; and, if I be not much mistaken, I see a great many coming towards us on Horseback.’ ‘It is true (said Don Sancho) and it would be convenient to ask this man that comes here who they are.’ This Traveller being asked the question, infor­med them, that they were Cavaliers of the Countrey, who were returning from the City, where they had been seeing a Combat of Bulls which had been there that day. ‘And for that reason (said Don Sancho, having dismissed the Traveller) it were fit to send to our Servants to attend us, that we may return to take Coach; for besides these Cavaliers, we shall meet abundance more People that are coming here on the other side; and it would be a disparagement to us to be [Page 90]in this equipage on foot.’ ‘This cannot be done (replied the Company) for, Sir, the Cavaliers you speak of are so near us, that it is impossible for the Coach to be here before them.’ ‘Then all the means we have to amend this fault (re­plied Don Sancho) of letting the Coach go so far from us, is to send them word that they stay near the old Castle, which is in the half way to the City, for it cannot be above a thousand Paces from thence to the City; and whilst these Cavaliers pass by, we may enter into this pleasant Forest, and take the Air amongst the shadows of the Trees; for we have time enough, and too much yet to go to Toledo, though we stay there an hour.’ This concluded on, they took a little Path which led them to the Forest, where they were no sooner entred, but they searched for the most convenient and best shaded place to repose themselves in, where being sate, they were most delightfully diverted by the charming Notes of the Nightingale, and the melodious Consort of the other little winged Choristers: But they pre­sently distinguished from the other Notes one which founded more of Art than the [Page 91]rest, which added such a charming sweet­ness to its natural perfection, that the con­fused Notes of Birds even seemed to cease, as did the Discourse of our Cavaliers and Ladies, to listen to that Voice, which with most incomparable skill sung this Song.

This Song was finish'd with so feeling a sorrow, and such admirable dexterity, that it astonish'd all the hearers, believing that this voice proceeded not from any Mortal, but rather an Angel or Celestial Spirit, that willing to delight himself in the admirati­on of his own Excellencies, had chosen this Forest as the fittest place to lay his Scene, delighting himself in his own voice, which the Eccho returned with advantage at the end of every Verse: And as they were get­ting up to turn their eyes towards the place whence this voice came, they heard [Page 93]the same Voice make this Complaint.

‘The [...]e are many chuse t [...]e Flowery Meads and pleasant Shades for t [...]eir di­vertisement: But, alas! I c [...]se a seat upon the Bank of this pretty Brook, there to lament the evils I su [...]er. These fair and shady Trees seem to me more sharp and prickly than Thorns and Thistles: The singing of the Birds seems to me as harsh and disagreeable as the noise of Screech-owls. Alas! can my eyes behold any thing that does not ad­minister a subject of sorrow and com­plaints, in a place where I find my self a forlorn Exile, and have no other use for my eyes but to shed tears. The Rocks and horrid Precipices, the savage Beasts, and the Rivers which seem to be swell'd bigger with my tears, are faithful wit­nesses of my cruel Martyrdom and affli­cting Torments.’

These words ended the Discourse, it be­ing interrupted by the storms of sighs and showers of tears which flowed from the Complainer. After that Storm was a little blown over, this Discourse followed the former.

‘How piercing are my sorrows, that [Page 94]seem even to penetrate insensible things! The Groves, as concern'd at my com­plaints, seem continually to resound them to the neighbouring Plains: These Rocks, methinks, seem even cleft with their sorrows, at the mournful Songs with which I alleviate mine. When I consider my self plunged into such an abyss of sadness, banish'd from that light which formerly shined upon me with so propitious an influence, into a strange Countrey, where nothing but mishaps surround me, this is a torment too insupportable. And if amongst this crowd of afflictions Sleep find an oppor­tunity to close my eyes, its operation is contrary to what it is designed for; for in stead of suspending my cares, and re­freshing my tired Body, my Dreams are so full of disturbance and anguish, that my ordinary moanings and complaints are more supportable than the heaviness I feel when I awake.’

Upon finishing these words, she begun again to bemoan her self with such mourn­fui Language as was able to mollifie the hardest Rock, saying, ‘To what end serve these Hands, this lately so much admired [Page 95]Beauty, the Nobility of my Birth, or these resentments of my misfortune? Since I am unable to be revenged of this Traytor that has robb'd me of the richest Jewel I had, the loss of which is so much the greater, as it is utterly irreco­verable: A Jewel without which a Virgin becomes like a Flower scorched with the Suns heat, or like the Vine whose tender Branches are pinched and [...]illed by the nipping Frost of a cold Morning. O thou great Sovereign of of the World, who from thy Imperial Throne dost now behold an injustice done me, as great as the most disloyal wretch in the World could commit, side with me in the punishment of a crime as offensive to thy Majesty as inju­jurious to my Honour: O leave not this fault unpunish'd, thou who art the firm support of the innocent, and the scourge of Offenders. But, alas! un­happy that I am, what is it I say and wish against him in whom the Destinies have placed all my happiness, all my fe­licity and hopes, and without which my Life is no more able to sustain the assaults of Death, than Snow to resist the heat of [Page 96]Fire. O ye fair Streams of Tayo, whose rapid Courses lead you to the beauteous City of Lisbon, do me the kindness a lit­tle to deviate, and traversing the desart Rocks of Siera Morena, plunge your selves into the sacred Betis, and with your confu­sed rumours tell him my soul adores, that his disloyalty and ingratitude have made me breathe out my soul in sighs upon your flowery Banks; and you my ey [...], turn the current of your salt Strea [...], which you shed day and night, to mix with the fresh ones of Tayo, that if that friendly River do me this first and last courtesie, you at least may (which I can never do) kiss the happy Countrey of my once dear Lover.’

Her mournful plaints and heavy accents ended with such profound sighs and in­ward groans, that all the Company rose to see whether she (for by her voice and discourse they knew her to be a Woman) that uttered them had not ended her Life with her pittiful Regrets; and peeping through some Branches which spread on that side whence the Voice came, they saw a Lady sitting by the side of a Rivolet which slowed into the Taio, with her Head [Page 97]mournfully hanging on one side, and her Face towards the Water. Her Hair, though hanging careless, and moved at the discretion of a gentle Wind, was of so lively a colour, that the richest Gold of Arabia could not compare with it. She was clothed in a Robe of black Velvet, embroidered with Flowers of Silver, with a Star of Gold in the middle of each of them bordered with Crystal, which joyn­ed the corners of every Flower in unequal measures, being made in the shape of Loops, and button'd with Buttons of the Seed of Pearl: So that it seemed Perfecti­on had joyned all its subtilties in the com­posing the Garment, as well as the Body. This costly Habit caused as much amaze­ment in the beholders, as the former sight of her lovely Hair had done. Her Head was then bended down upon her Knees, which made them all unwilling to part without knowing who she was, and whe­ther she, who seemed rather a Divinity than a Mortal, were alive or dead. They were going to divide the Boughs which hindred them with their Hands, and cut them with their Swords, and so leap the Rivolet, which winding with a great many [Page 98]circlings and turnings, made an Islet where the Lady sate, but were hindred by the approach of two Women of comely Meen towards the Lady, one of which came and sate down by her, and said to her angrily these words:

‘If I considered, so often as I advise you of your duty, that my words serve to no other end but to spend my spirits, I should trouble you no more with my Discourse, nor employ my time so un­profitably, to preach to you that are deaf to all I say; and all my Remon­strances and Reasons, though never so good and pertinent, have no more influ­ence upon you than upon a senseless crea­ture. I call Heaven to witness, and de­sire no pardon for my sins from thence if it be not true, that your despair and melancholy have reduced me to that state, that they will at last bring me to my Grave, unless (taking pity of her that next under God and your Parents has given you your being) you moderate your passions, shewing us once more a chearful and contented look. And won­der not if I take your Interests so to heart, and that your sorrow so afflicts me; [Page 99]since those from whom you hold your Life, and I my Livelihood, have obliged me to it by their Bounty. And what good can you hope for from your sighs? Can one, think you, find any that will be in love with misfortunes and disgraces, for the pleasure they take in bewailing them? Think you that your sad counte­nance and blubber'd eyes will win more upon your wandering perfidious Hus­band (for so he is as strictly as Vows can bind) or sooner reduce him to his duty, than if your lovely Face take up again its former Arms, with which you vanquish'd him before? No, no, Love is not in­flamed by such sinister ways, especially having the inconstancy and ingratitude of such a young man for Opponent. Take example by other Ladies, who are so far from striving, like you, to disfigure their Faces, that they use all the Dresses, Fards, Perfumes, Paints, and Pommades, to render themselves more beauteous, and set them off to the best advantage, not sparing for any thing that may render them more lovely, the better to win the hearts of their Lovers. You will tell me now, that Lovers also are subject to [Page 100]sighs, and tears, and complaints; which if I grant you, you must allow, that though they do it for the present, they blame themselves for it afterward, con­sidering that it is better to pass the time in a chearful enjoyment of what we pos­sess, than to plunge ones self into a Sea of sorrow, which ruines the Beauty, enervates the forces of the Body, and stupifies those of the Soul: For what reason have we to despair, since what seems impossible to day, is very easie oft-times to morrow. You might have remarked this in your own Affairs, which before seemed irremediable; but the good reception you have had with the King makes us now not doubt of that success which we could scarce hope for before: And I remember that yesterday you said you did not fear but that your Honour was safe, and your Business in a good estate; and now 'tis strange to see you so changed and afflicted, that if I knew not your inconstant and impatient humour, considering your Affair is in so fair a condition of suiting to your de­sire, I should rather fear this sadness to be an Augury of some future mis­fortune, [Page 101]than a bewailing of the former.’

These words were not spoken in vain; they wrought the same effect in this affli­cted Lady as Water, which thrown in the face of one in a Swoon, does by its fresh­ness recall the wandering spirits; for they immediately retrived her from that depth of sorrow and melancholy into which the memory of her wrongs had plunged her: for now a modest Blush spread a rare Ver­milion over her face, which was pale be­fore; and as ordinarily silence is most suta­ble to an afflicted spirit, she only shewed her Governante a more chearful countenance than before, telling her, that she would endeavour always to satisfie her desires, and at the same time called her Chamber­maid (which was she that came along be­fore with her Governante) to dress her Head, during which imployment she often stroked her lovely Hair with her own fair Hand, which resembled an Alabaster stone upon a Rock of Amber. O beauteous and dear Nets of amorous Hearts! the Bow­strings of Love! O lovely Fingers, capable to play upon our Passions like Virginals, and tune them to any sort of Musick.

Our Company could not then behold [Page 102]the face of the Lady of the Stars (for so we must call her till we know her right name) nor that of her Governante, who had by a long discourse (which they could not well hear) endeavoured to oppose her consola­tory remonstrances to the others grief: Yet they all resolved, though with regret, to depart in ignorance, lest they should be discovered by a Troop of Cavaliers and Ladies which came walking by a Rivolet, and for fear of incurring the censure which the pryers into others concerns merit. They concluded by the circumstances and occurrences beforemention'd, that the Lady of the Stars was a stranger, and that the others that were coming were her Friends and Servants, the most of them; and that making some stay at Toledo, she was come to walk and to divert her self in this plea­sant place, with all her Family, to endea­vour to shun or alleviate the sorrow which her sighs, her tears, and her words had ma­nifested her heart to be clogged withal.

CHAP. IV.

THe Considerations last mentioned in the foregoing Chapter caused the departure of our Company out of the Shade where they were, returning the same way they came, hoping to meet some body by the way, of whom they might learn the Name of her whom all the Com­pany had such a desire to know: And whilst they were walking gently to the place where the Coach attended them, every one made their particular judgment and remark upon the Lady of the Stars, all but Donna Leonora, who ruminating upon what she had seen and heard, found her self somewhat surprized at this rencoun­ter, and therefore listned attentively to the rest, without descanting on it in one word, as the Company did. Don Sebastian see­ing her somewhat melancholy; approach­ed her to know the cause. Don Sancho and Donna Margareta seeing his intention, be­gun to mend their pace, and go a good way before, to give them the means of a private entertainment, in talking of things [Page 104]which might tend to their future pleasure and contentment. Don Sebastian seeing him­self hereby at liberty to discover to Donna Leonora the sufferings which her Beauty had imposed on him, after having asked her how she did, and w [...]er her dis­composure of spirit did not proceed from that of her Body, fell to beholding her with more contemplative eyes than a Ca­puchin or Chartreux would do a Portraict of Devotion. He had already begun to accost her with more than Mercurian elo­quence, but his Discourse was interrupted by the abundance of sights and sobs, which by the hardness of their passage seemed to be drawn from the very bottom of his breast; but his Love recalling his Courage, and rallying his dispersed Spirits, he took the boldness to take hold of her curious Hand, and pressing it somewhat harder than before, he said with the best grace possible these words following.

‘It is the common course of men of understanding, when they find either Body or Mind oppressed by any Malady, first to find out a Person proper and able to heal them, and then to apply them­selves to him for a Remedy, and pur­chase [Page 105]a Cure, though accompanied with the sharpest Corrosives. Now, Madam, it is no longer time to dissemble, since your Beauty hath reduced me to that state, that I can find no way instrumental to my cure but by thus casting my self at your feet, humbly to implore your pity, who alone can fit a Plaister to my Wound. The scorching Rays of your Celestial Eyes have kindled such a Flame in my Heart, that nothing but some refreshing drops of Pity can prevent the reducing of it to Ashes, and conse­quently my Body to the Grave. My bashfulness, and the fear of offending you, have hitherto restrained my Tongue from discovering the inward pain I have endured ever since I first saw you; and though I was always the most unwilling man alive to displease you, yet was I still as unable to suppress the Civil broils which Love and Fear raised in my Breast, till at last the former having quite sub­dued the later, has brought me (like the poor harassed Countrey which has long been the Seat of War) to joyn with the Conqueror, because unable to resist him, and so, forced by his Commands, [Page 106]I thus make use of this happy occasion, to lay open my Wounds and Torments to you, not despairing of a Cure from your Goodness, or that Distemper which you have been the cause of. The very irrational Animals teach us this by their example, who feeling themselves hurt, do by a natural instinct by their com­plainings discover it to men, to draw as­sistance from their pity. These Reasons, Madam, have made me desirous to ha­zard your displeasure, to know from your Sentence whether I must live to serve you, or die to appease your dis­pleasure: And if your curiosity make you desirous to try the influence which the Rays of your Divine Beauty have up­on my Spirit, approach but with a re­gard of pity my sad and afflicted Breast, and you shall see that the Sun does not more gild and enliven the sad and me­lancholy Fields with his warmth and light, when parting from his nocturnal Horizon he returns in the Morning to our Hemisphere, than a pleasing look from your charming eyes would infuse into my languishing heart.’

Donna Leonora, though more invited to [Page 107]laughter than pity by so pleasant and ex­travagant a Discourse, yet comporting her self the best she could, and turning her eyes very modestly on one side, she spoke with a low voice these words following.

‘There is no confidence to be put in Men of this Age, for (as we may see by the late Example of the fair afflicted Lady) their treachery and infidelity does now seem to be arrived at the last stage of its greatness; so that every Woman that shews her self favourable to their prayers, and condescends to their en­treaties, finds at once her inconsiderate facility, and great simplicity in heark­ning to their deceitful words, rewarded with shame, contempt, and disdain.’

‘O puissant Love (replied Don Sebasti­an) give me a perswasive spirit, that autho­rising my Allegations with the strongest Oaths, and grandest Exaggerations, I may leave this fair Incredulous satisfied of the reality of the torments I suffer for her. No, Fairest, the revolution of the Stars, the accidents and inconstancy of Fortune, nor all the rigorous cruelty (my Dear Lady) which you can possibly invent against me, though they be Instru­ments [Page 108]violent and strong enough to beat down and ruine the firmest affection, shall never be able to efface your Me­rits printed in my heart, nor the lively Image of your Perfections which Love hath there engraven; but contrarily, such unhappy miscariages will still frame new designs of vanquishing the greatest im­possibilities, till at last (like Hercules, more advantaged by the difficulty of his undertakings) I thereby win the Palm from all the other Lovers of this Age.’

Donna Leonora hearing these words, was forced to restrain her laughter more strongly than before, finding it still more earnest to break prison, and would have answered him again, had she not been re­strained by the fear she had of not being any longer able to act well a part so im­proper to her Sex: Therefore knowing that bare Complements would not serve on this occasion, she had recourse to her Eyes, which are fitter instruments of deceit than the Tongue in such an affair; since often­times a Servant seeing his Mistresses Eyes fixed on him, or stealing glances at him, does with joy conceive a hope that those Eyes are the Messengers of Love, which [Page 109]are but the Spies of his Imperfections: Besides, the Tongue cannot so easily utter choice or pathetick expressions to the pur­pose; for the mind being taken up with the thoughts of something that is most pleasing to it, makes the Tongue unable to belie the Heart, binding it up from its for­mer liberty, and thereby disabling it from saying what it would: But the Eyes the mean time are unconcerned in that passion.

Don Sebastian seeing himself so firmly viewed by those Eyes which had before been Burning-glasses to his Heart, imagi­ned his Love to be already victorious, and thefore desirous to lay hold on the occasi­on, stretched out his Arms to embrace that Body which had the night before been both active and passive in others far more agreeable. Donna Leonora shewing a force and address with somewhat more than a Female strength, escaped so nimbly from his Arms, that Don Sebastian's ecsta­sie of joy almost depriving him of sense, he amorously kissed and embraced the Air. ‘O bold Lover! (said Donna Leonora) are these the means to win my favour? No, no, Services and Civilities, courteous entertainments and generous deport­ments [Page 110]are the ways whereby Ladies af­fections are obtained, and not with such rash and daring attempts as this.’ But seeing his astonishment, she continued thus, with a more favourable look; ‘For this time, Seignour Don Sebastian, I pardon you, on condition you fall no more into the like offence; and let me entreat you that we may mend our pace, to over­take our Company, lest my Uncle should suspect something of what is past. As for the rest, leave it to time, which will convince me (though you be never so subtle) whether your Discourses proceed from a real love, or a fained affection, or only to give scope to your Wit, and try the strength of my Judgment.’

‘My death (answered Don Sebastian) shall satisfie you in that immediately, if you have neither faith, nor pity of one who loves you more than himself.’ ‘No, no, fear not dying of this distemper (re­plied Donna Leonora) for your Physician will rather try all Experiments which shall be judged necessary for your reco­very.’ ‘O my dearest hope and life (said Don Sebastian) if you keep your word I shall account my self the happiest Cava­lier [Page 111]in Europe.’ ‘Content your self for the present with what I have said (answer­ed Donna Leonora) for I should be as sorry my rigour should be instrumental to the death of so brave and generous a Cavalier, and one whose exemplary ci­vility has obliged me, as I should be unfortunate if my Uncle should know the care I take for his safety: And let these two Motives oblige us to break off this Conversation for the present.’

Don Sebastian, notwithstanding the last words of this Discourse, was so intranced with joy for the former, and even tran­sported out of himself, to have received an answer so much better than he could hope for, that had she not recalled him to himself by twice or thrice speaking to him, he had been metamorphosed into a Stone, like another Whom Mercury turn'd into a Stone for discovering his Theft. Battus; but recollecting his spirits, after such short acknowledgments as his sudden ecstasie would allow, they marched more nimbly than before to overtake their Company, who were staying by the way, and talking with some Coachmen and Servants whom they supposed to belong to the Lady of the [Page 112]Stars, which indeed proved to be true, and so was that which they before imagined of her; and one of those Servants gave them this account. ‘Gentlemen, we are Servants to one of the greatest Lords of Toledo, by whose command we conducted this strange Lady (which you saw within the Forest) into that place, which for its pleasure and divertisements seems to be a Terrestrial Paradise, that she and all her Family might recreate themselves amongst those pretty Flowers and clear Streams.’ ‘And can you not tell me her Name? (said Donna Leonora.)’ ‘No (said the Coachman) but I know she is of great Quality, because the King being at Toledo when she arrived, she waited on him to requite Justice for an Injury that has been done her by some Grandee of this Kingdom; and it was reported at Court, that his Majesty had received her very graciously, and had no sooner read a Letter which the Infanta, Governess of Flanders, had sent him in her behalf, and heard from her the Particulars of the Cause for which she desired Justice, but he dispatch'd away a Party of his Guards to seize upon him she com­plained [Page 113]of, though he be very considera­ble at Court; for the King declared, that Greatness should be no more ex­empt from Justice than Poverty; and whatever place they have near him, that his Favour shall be no bar to his Justice. For her Beauty, it is beyond compare, and none that have yet seen her but say, they have never before beheld the like, and that it is almost impossible so much Perfection should be possessed by one less than immortal.’

Here the Coachman ended his Di­scourse, being interrupted by a young man of good fashion who stood by, and said, ‘If, Gentlemen, you have a desire to know this beauteous Stranger, as by your Discourse I judge you have, you may easily do it if you please to lodge in our House, where, besides your sa­tisfaction in seeing this Lady, you will find an Inn which, not only in reputati­on, but in effect is one of the best in all Castile.’ ‘In what Quarter of the Town is it? (said Don Sebastian.)’ ‘It is (an­swered the young man) in the middle of the first Street which you shall come at after you have passed the Cocodober.’ [Page 114]They all agreed to go thither; and ha­ving dismissed the Coachmen and the other Servants, they poceeded on their way. They soon got to the Ruines of the Old Castle where their Coach at­tended them, whereinto being entred, they quickly arrived at the City, and passing through the Bridge-gate, went to lodge at the Inn we just now spoke of, where we will leave them to take up their Quarters, and return to the Lady we left in the Fo­rest.

CHAP. V.

THe duskishness of the Evening had already begun to gain upon the Light, and Night begun to unfold her dark Veil to spread over the face of the Earth: The Gallants begun to return home, satis­fied with the Pleasures of the foregoing Day: The jolly Shepherd with his Whistle begun to summon his Flocks, loaded with Wooll and Flesh, to their Folds; and the Traveller, though wearied with the La­bours of the day, doubled his pace, to avoid securely in his Inn the incommodi­ties of the night; when this fair Lady of the Stars departed from the pleasant place where we left her, her Governess having first by her solid perswasions and sage coun­sels retired her from the abyss of sorrow into which she had plunged her self, and af­ter said, It is time for us to return to the City, and I am of advice, that, for the better variety of Recreation, Dorida should sing to her Guittar some pleasant and di­vertising Song, which may make the way we have to go to the Coach seem shorter. [Page 116]I will do what you please, Madam, an­swered Dorida; and to testifie my joy to see my Lady so well recovered of her me­lancholy humour, I will sing you of the Adventures of a Portuguez Draper, to whom his Mistris had given an Assignati­on, which succeeded unfortunately: And though the words of it are none of the su­tablest in the mouth of a Maid, yet I will venture on it, Madam, if you please to give me permission. I give it you (replied the Governante) for I partly know the effect of it. Give me my Guittar (said Dori­da) and for once I will make bold with Modesty. Having taken and tuned it, she plaid so dexterously on it, that she struck an admiration into all that heard it: But when she sung, it was hard to judge whe­ther her Vocal or Instrumental Musick were more delightful. The Song (which was one of the same fame in Spain as those of Robin Hood in England) was of a Portu­guez Draper, who coming to Castile, be­came enamour'd of a pretty young Wo­man that was lately married to a certain Villager of the Countrey called The Man­cha; and one day as he was selling her some Cloth, he opened to her his Cloth [Page 117]and Affection together. She who was as cunning as any of her Neighbours, seemed to receive it kindly, but immediately told her Husband of it, who (as crafty as she) ordered her to give him an Assignation to come and enjoy her, which she failed not to do, nor he to come accordingly. He was no sooner unclothed, and one foot in the Bed, but the Husband, who was hid­den hard by, accompanied with four or five Friends, entertained him so unhospi­tably with horrible blows, that though he was naked, and the Weather cold, he was glad that he could get alive out of their hands, and so scape home with his Limbs unbroken, though desparately bruis'd.

The Verses run pleasantly in Spanish, though without Ryme, without which neither French nor English ones have any grace; and Dorida sung them so grace­fully, that all the Company was so well pleased with the Bastinadoes of the Portu­guez Draper, that it was a good while be­fore they could give over laughing; but the Night drawing on, and they being ar­rived at the place where the Coach at­tended them, they were forced to end their divertisements, and every one to take their [Page 118]places in the Coach; and the Boot being pluck'd up, the Coachman drove so spee­dily, that in less than a quarter of an Hour they got to the Inn, where Don Sebastian and his Company were before arrived, and after much inquiry in the House, not able to learn the Name of the Lady of the Stars; were all retired to their several Beds.

Let us leave them to their Rest, and whilst they sleep, slip back to Viso, to see what the matter is there; for I have heard such a noise, methinks, there, within these three days since we left it, that I fear For­tune has been playing some of her wonted freaks, and changed all their pleasures into sadness; which, if it be so, you shall know presently in the next Chapter.

CHAP. I.

I Question not but your memo­ry is good enough to retain the Story I told you of Don Seba­stian's Cloke, which he left with Catalina at Viso (on another account than Joseph did his with his Mistris) as a recompence for the Courtesie he received of her, or at least to exempt her from the Chastisement her Husband would have given her, if he had not left it to bear off the Blows. The same day that Don Se­bastian parted from Viso, Roderigo (a man [Page 120]as extremely covetous as wicked, being far more desirous of a full Purse than a clear Conscience) went out also towards Sancta Cruz to sell the Cloke; where so soon as he was arrived, and had given the Inn-keeper charge of his things, he went into the Town to find a Broker of second­hand Clothes, or, to speak more plainly, a worse Rogue than himself, to help him to a Chapman for his Cloke, or else to buy it himself. It was not long before he found one of his Acquaintance, to whom (after the accustomed Complements be­twixt Persons of their quality) he told him in short the cause of his Journey. Get you home to your Inn (said the other) bring you the subtilest Taylor in the World, who shall in the turning of a hand so metamorphose and disguise it, that the Owner himself should never know it. Ro­derigo well satisfied with the Broker's pro­mise, returned to his Inn, where, as he was entring, he found himself seised on by two Serjeants, and immediately after heard the voice of another, of somewhat greater authority than the rest, which animated them, as the Captain of a Galley does his [Page 121]Slaves, saying, Hold him fast, my Mates, and take special care he escape not; for ac­cording to the marks given us of him, this is questionless the Thief we seek for.

Roderigo seeing himself taken, and called by his right name, remained so astonish'd that he knew not where he was, and being to answer to the Interrogatories put to him, his fear made him stammer so at every word, that it made all the by-standers think him guilty. Wherefore bringing him to his Chamber, whither presently all the Serjeants and Algnazils of the Town en­tred, partly to aid their Companions if need were, and partly to steal all they could conveniently lay hands on; they presently stripp'd poor Roderigo to his Shirt, and search'd him from Head to Foot, to see if they could find any thing of that which had been stoln; but seeing that all their diligence was in vain, not having found about him above fifteen or twenty Reals, of which the Commissary made himself Master, they went presently to seise on a Bundle, which by chance they espied at the corner of the Chamber, and open­ing it, they found there Don Sebastian's Cloke. I'le lose my Head, said the Com­missary, [Page 122]if this be not a Highway-man; his very looks, and this Cloke, which without question he hath tobb'd some bo­dy of in these Mountains, betray him. Use me civilly, Master Commissaty, (said Ro­derigo, now somewhat better encouraged) for I take Heaven to witness, that if you search from the one Pole to the other, you shall not find an honester man than my self (God bless the King) nor one that makes more profession of Honour: And thank God that these Poultrons hold my hands, for if I were at liberty, I swear by the Ete­nal — that I would — O im­pudent Thief! (said the Commiffary, gi­ving him three or four smart blows over the Pate with a Cudgel) dost thou speak thus boldly to Justice it self? I assure thee, that if thou bridle not thy Tongue better, I will send thee to the Gallows immedi­ately. I hope God will not give thee the power (said the Prisoner) but I beseech him to let me live (as I hope I shall) to see thee and thy damn'd Companions stretch'd up­on the Wheel.

These words put the Commissary and his Mates in such a rage, that for all the Host cried out on them to let him go, and [Page 123]he would answer for his forth-coming; and although he that had been robb'd, being there, cried out, Let him go, Sirs; for he that you torment so cruelly is not the man that robb'd me; for all this these enraged Officers (having the Law in one hand and Cudgel in the other) followed on their merciless strokes, and beat him like Mor­tar, and after dragg'd him to prison, all bruis'd and batter'd as he was, without giving leave to the Clerk to write his Ex­amination, or draw his Process. The Host being Friend to Roderigo, sent pre­sently away to advertise his Uncle of his misfortune, who no sooner heard it, but he came presently to Sancta Cruz, which was but two Leagues from Viso. Being arrived, he sollicited the business so dili­gently, giving ample testimonies of his Nephew's honesty, that those, joyned with some Money which he disbursed, fetch'd him out of Prison in two days, with the reputation of one of the honestest men in Spain.

Having dispatch'd this unlucky Affair, they both returned to Viso, carrying the Cloke along with them, which had cost them as much as it did Don Sebastian when [Page 124]he bought it new. By the way Ozmin (for so was Roderigo's Uncle call'd) asked his Nephew whence he had this Cloke which had cost them so much money and trouble. Roderigo was ashamed to answer him; but seeing him persist in and continue his demands, and thinking the business would come out first or last, answered him, I acknowledge, Uncle, that my Wise and I have done you wrong in this conceal­ment. I understand thee not (replied Oz­min.) The truth is (said Roderigo) my Wife got this Cloke from one that belonged to the Cavalier that lay at your House in my absence. I remember no such thing (said Ozmin) for I know not that there has been a Cloke lost in my House this two years; and if there were, I am not so old but my memory is good enough to remember it. At this rate there must be some Mystery hid in this Cloke (said Roderigo, not imagining the loss of his Honour, or his Wifes Cha­stity) for why should my Wife tell me so, if it were not true? I know not what my­stery there should be (said Ozmin) but this I am sure of, that (thanks be to God) there has been no Cloke lost in my House this two year; for if there had, it would have [Page 125]been ask'd for: Therefore either thy Wife deceives thee (if this be true thou tellest me) or else thou hast stole it somewhere else, and wouldest do so me. I am bet­ter assured of my innocence in this busi­ness (said Roderigo) than of what I should say to it: But if you please, Uncle, to be but patient till we get home, I will either know the meaning of it, or cease to be Roderigo. We shall know that anon (said Ozmin) and I wish I prove a false Prophet. These Discourses, and others they used by the way about the Money they had disbur­sed, lasted them to Viso, where being entred their House, the first thing they did, Ozmin called for his Niece, and the Boy, and Maid, and taking the Cloke out of a Bag, Which of you (said he) knows of any one of those that lodged here lately that has lost this Cloke? Which of them do you mean? (said the Boy.) Of those that lodg­ed here whilst Roderigo was in the Coun­trey, said Ozmin. Do you mean him (said the Boy) that had a Coat of Tawney-co­lour'd Cloth embroiderd with Gold? The very same, said Ozmin. It cannot be (said the Boy) for none of them enquired for any. Look you now (said Ozmin, turning [Page 126]the Cloke, and viewing his Nephew) did I not say as much? He was going to answer, but was interrupted by the Boy (who therein was even with his Mistris for his former unjust cudgelling) who said very confidently, Sir, this Cloke belongs to none of the Cavaliers you speak of, but to the Cavalier who lay here with his Wife the same night that your Nephew Roderigo came home from the Countrey. Ambrose is in the right (said the Maid) I know the Cloke by the Lace and the Lining, for Don Sebastian gave it me to keep when he came in, and it was in my Master's Chamber till his Page fetch'd it away. That's very true (said Ozmin) for going for my own, I found it there. Catalina seeing her self convinced by so many Witnesses, and tor­mented by remorse of Conscience, said no more than if she had been a Marble Statue, knowing that all her feminine craft and sub­tilty could neither remedy so far gone a mischief, nor contradict so apparent a ve­rity. The name of Don Sebastian infused suspicion into the head of Roderigo, and that made him call to mind, that the day after his arrival his Wife had her eyes con­tinually fix'd upon him: And seeing that [Page 127]her very looks discover'd her, as well as the testimonies of the Servants, he conclu­ded that the Cloke was an infallible proof of her Adultery: Wherefore taking her by the hand, and leading her into her Un­cles Chamber, he spake thus to his Uncle. ‘I must now speak a word or two to this impudent Woman, to have of her an entire relation of this Affair; and I firmly swear by &c. That if she confess not the truth freely, I will be her Executio­ner my self, and hang her at the Cham­ber-window.’ So having shut the Cham­ber-door, he begun to recount her subtil­ties to her Uncle, and the crafts and inven­tions she had used to get Don Sebastian conveyed out of the Chamber (for he was confident they were used to that end.) The poor Catalina did nothing the while but weep, seeing her self more than sufficient­ly convicted: But her Husband more near­ly touched with the loss of his Honour than the sorrow of his Wife, transported with choler, took a Cord which he found under a Bed in the Chamber, and spoke to her as followeth: ‘If thou desirest a longer time to live and repent thy sins, it is in thy power, if (leaving the custom [Page 128]of common Offenders, who by impu­dently denying their offences follishly think to conceal that which is apparent to all the World) thou tellest me freely, and without constraint, the naked truth of what I shall demand: if so, I swear and promise thee faithfully to pardon this fault, upon condition that thou ne­ver commit such another; otherwise thou shalt know by the cruel torments which I have prepared for thee (shewing her the Cord) that death were a thousand times more desirable for thee than life.’ The poor afflicted Catalina, melting her self in tears, begun to look upon her Hus­band with a countenance so sad and pitti­ful, that (had she been guilty of the great­est crime) it had moved compassion in the cruellest Cannibal or most barbarous Scy­thian; and after a while, her sorrow gave her leave to utter these words.

‘What would you have me say? wretched and unfortunate that I am! since my words, though never so com­posed, will be equally fatal with my si­lence: But since my Offence has brought me to so extreme a misery, that which way soever I turn me, I see none but [Page 129]terrible and frightful spectacles, which represent nothing but death, and that with the gratest horrour, let death come then when it will, it cannot but be very acceptable, since it will put an end to all my sufferings: Kill then, Roderigo, O kill thy unfortunate Wife, since she hath violated that Faith and Promise she made to thee, and which even the most barba­rous of Women are bound to observe: Let me die then, since I have deserved it, and revenge with thy own hand the inju­ry I have done to thee onely. I confess I have made use of so much impudence in committing adultery with Don Seba­stian, that I have now none left to deny it; or if I should, there are witnesses enough, besides my own Conscience, to contradict me; even this very Cloke, if it could speak, would testifie against me, and discover my guilt.’

This penitent sinner here ended her Di­scourse, and her tongue remaining fixed to the roof of her mouth, and her courage failing her with her strength, she sunk down in a swoon upon the floor. Her Husband thereupon ran to her to Poniard her, and had undoubtedly done it if his Uncle had [Page 130]not detained him, who afflicted with this accident, and touched with compassion at the sighs and tears of his unhappy Niece, staid his Nephews hand, and said, ‘Mo­derate a little thy passion, my dear Ne­phew, and give not such scope to thy cho­ler; let her live, that is the greatest vengeance thou canst take of her, since the apprehension of death is a thousand times more afflictive to a Criminal than death it self: Be patient, there is remedy for all, and consider the best way to salve thy Honour. I find my self in this almost as much offended as thy self, and therefore beg of thee that we may no further publish our disgrace, because yet none knows it besides our selves. And think not light of this advice, since there are many that if they thought their affronts and disgraces were secret, and unknown to others, would be so far from thus resenting such a private injury, that they would rather endeavour to get what money they could of the Agressor to keep it so still. Then bridle thy cho­ler, and sheath thy Poniard, and beware of doing that in haste which thou wilt have time enough to repent. That we [Page 131]may therefore consider of what we have to do, come along with me, and let us leave this wicked Woman to her tears and lamentations, whilst we study a cha­stizement worthy of her offence.’ With these Reasons and some other he got him out of the Chamber, and locked the door after him, and brought his Nephew to a Closet, where taking a Bag out of a Cof­fer, wherein there might be about six hun­dred Reals, he spoke as followeth.

‘I know that the wisest man in the World would find a hard task of it, to resist his just resentments of such an accident; but far harder to pardon his Wife for it: and much more thou, who art naturally of so impatient and chole­rick a temper. I love you both as my own Children, having intended you for my Heirs, and as such I would use and entertain you; but seeing that from this Affair one can expect nothing but some unhappy sinistre accident which might hazard the loss of you both, if I endea­vour not to prevent it by the removal of one, I have to this purpose invented a remedy, which my long experience in the World has brought into my mind, [Page 132]which is this, that thou take this money, and a Horse which I shall give thee (for I can imagine no other cure more proper for the present distemper) and go serve the King for some time in some of his Armies, and I assure my self that time will make thee forget what is past, chief­ly when at thy return thou shalt find thy Wife more humble, more tractable, and more diligent to please thee than before; for Women in her condition find them­selves commonly so confused and asha­med, that never after they dare speak but with great respect, and moreover study nothing but to obey, knowing that their fault has made them forfeit their priviledge of Domestick Command.’ These were Ozmin's perswasions to his Nephew.

Roderigo, who was of himself a jolly Fellow, young and hardy, having before his Marriage made divers Voyages into France, Italy, Germany, and the Indies, and understood that kind of life as well as ano­ther, gave an attentive ear to his Uncle; and remembring himself of the time past, and his old Camerades, he thought he might now with Money in his Purse appear [Page 133]better amongst them, and find more plea­sure in a Military life, than when his indi­gency forced him to expose himself to a thousand dangers to get a living. He therefore took the six hundred Reals, and three hundred more which he accepted of in stead of a Horse, chusing rather to march on foot with them, than on Horseback without them, and set out the same day, without taking leave of his Wife, and bent his Course towards the Mancha; where we will leave him to his Journey, because the chearful voices of pretty Birds tell us that the Morning approaches, and that therefore we are expected by the Ca­valiers and Ladies which we left in Bed at Toledo, when we returned from thence to Viso, to take an Account and make you a Relation of what is passed: And I am afraid they are by this angry at me for en­gaging my Pen so long in so mean and pit­tiful a Subject, which was before busied with others of as great concern as any that can be imagined in matters of Love.

CHAP. II.

THe Clock had scarce struck Eight, when all our Company that came from the Inn of Carçuela were risen, ex­cept Don Carlos and Don Sebastian, the torment of whose amorous thoughts ha­ving kept them waking all night, made them glad to make amends in the morning. Don Carlos awaked first, and calling to mind his good fortune the night before at the Carçuela, he esteemed himself the hap­piest man alive, and praised Don Sancho a thousand times for his subtle invention, whereby he had had the enjoyment of his Mistris. The contentments he had alrea­dy received, made him far more earnest af­ter others, and made him far more desirous than before of another nights enjoyment: But seeing the grand difficulties, or rather the absolute impossibilities which ob­structed it, as well for the difficulty of continuing his Disguise much longer, as also in regard that the Inns betwixt Toledo and Madrid, being the best in Spain, would never admit of such another device as that [Page 135]of the Carçuela; this consideration put him into such an inquietude, and afflicted him in such manner, as none is able to judge of but such as have felt the like; particularly, when he considered the delicious pleasures he had enjoyed in her Arms, when his eyes beheld her with such infinite delight, and his lips sucked such ravishing Ambrosia from hers: It was then, I say, when the past joys coming so freshly into his mind, touched him with such piercing smarts, and irresistible passions, that they reduced him to such a condition, that sometimes he re­mained without motion like a dead man, and sometimes with such strange and extra­vagant actions, as if he had been quite be­sides himself; the poor Cavalier giving sufficient testimony, by such irregular moti­ons, that he was in the height of his di­stemper, and suffered as great a torment as one in the highest fit and most violent ex­cess of a Fever, being without hope that Don Sancho should give a second help to his pain, which thought made him so wea­ry of this World, that he was almost rea­dy to send himself by a violent death into the other.

The same morning, after all were up ex­cept [Page 136]Donna Leonora who pretended to be indisposed, Don Sancho led out Don Seba­stian to walk and take the Air in a great Gallery of the House which looked to­wards the Corodober, thereby to give time to Donna Margareta to visit Donna Leo­nora, that the two Lovers might have time to content their desires. Donna Margareta, that she might not let slip so fair an occasion, as soon as she saw her Husband go with Don Sancho to the Gal­lery, went straight to Donna Leonora's Chamber, where they easily found occasi­ons to dismiss their Attendants: What they did there, is fitter for you to imagine than me to recite; I shall onely say, that if Don Sebastian (whose impatiency not suffering him to stay long in any place, had made him with Prayers to force Don Sancho to return to Donna Leonora's Chamber to visit her) if he, I say, had deferred his co­ming but a little longer, he had undoubted­ly caught our two Lovers in the fact; for just as they opened the door, they were shuffling the Cards to deal about for ano­ther Game: But for all their goods the Fates had ordered it otherwise.

Don Sebastian being entred, took a Seat [Page 137]and sate down by Donna Leonora's Bed­side, and asked how she did. Donna Leo­nora for the present counterfeiting some­what a weaker voyce than ordinary, endea­vouring by her carriage to shew all the sweets that Nature had endowed her with, told him with two or three deep sighs (Don Sancho and Donna Margareta having left the Room) that the love she bore him had reduced her to that condition, that unless his compassion and invention did joyn to give a remedy to her malady, her life would assuredly be in extreme danger; assuring him, that all that night she had not closed her eyes, and that her Spirit had not allowed any repose to her Body, whilst she remembred their sweet Entertainments and agreeable Discourses they had had the day before by the way.

It is not questionable whether Don Se­bastian were not overjoyed at this charming Language, not suspecting the Serpent that lay hid under those sweet Flowers; but even ravish'd with content to see all things so favourable to his designs, he was going to make a long Narrative of the immeasu­rable love he bore her: but Donna Leono­ra's Servants interrupted him, and for this [Page 138]time hindered him by their entrance from employing his Rhetorick to so bad purpose.

So soon as Don Sebastian had left the Room, and Don Carlos saw himself alone with Don Sancho, having dismissed all the Servants, he bid him sit down by the Bed­side, and begun this Discourse. ‘My dear Sancho, if ever Master were obliged to his Servant for the kindness he had done him, I am confident my obligations to thee are greater than ever any have been before; and I question whether if I should make thee Master of all I have, I should ever be able to recompence thee for the grand Obligations in which thy Services have bound me: Assure thy self that time shall make good what I say, and if Heaven spare my life, this deceit­ful Age, amongst all her ingratitudes, shall not be able to produce one so wor­thy of blame, as my gratitude to thee shall be of praise. If I have not hither­to made appear to thee in deeds an effect answerable to the generosity of my words, thou knowest the cause so well, that it is needless for me to employ more time in informing thee better.’

‘This I intended to speak (my dear [Page 139]Friend) that I might discover to thee the infinite affection I bear thee, as also to encourage thee in thy designs, and to pray thee as earnestly as I am able, to continue what thou hast so happily be­gun, because in all Enterprizes if the end prove not answerable to the beginning, the undertaker loses not onely the glory of what he has already done, but also runs a hazard of having his Reputation spoiled by the mockeries of those that understand it. I do not mean, my dear Friend, (continued Don Carlos, embra­cing him) that thou hast not brought this Affair dexterously to the point I de­sired and thou promisedst, making me enjoy that which I most desired in the World; but to tell thee more freely, and setting aside all circumlocutions, I would desire thee to set thy hand once more to this Affair, and with thy wonted subtilty and address oblige me once more in what I shall say to thee; for not onely I, and all I possess, but even Posterity, through the Reputation thou wilt ac­quire, will recompence thee with Im­mortality amongst those of the most re­fined Wits.’

[Page 140]Don Sancho seeing him speak to him with such grand civility, answered him the most discreetly he could possibly: But Don Carlos hurried on by the excess of his passion, had not the patience to let him fi­nish his Discourse, but interrupting him, begun again as followeth. ‘The torment that my soul endureth, to see me con­strained to separate from my dear Mistris without any appearance of a possibility of another single enjoyment, swells my sufferings too big to be allayed by any thing but death, which will undoubted­ly ensue, if thy wit and industry do not once more bring me to a nights enjoy­ment of her.’

‘That which you desire, Sir, (replied Don Sancho) is not so great a difficulty, but that I could heartily wish that satia­ting your desires were no bigger, and that your passion would end so soon as my invention could satisfie it in this: But, Sir, to what purpose serves it, if my new Tasks still encrease as fast I finish the old ones; and if in stead of being content with the often enjoying of what you de­sired, you continue in such a disposition, that you are still ready to begin again, [Page 141]and to play the same Person so often, that at last I fear yo [...] [...] will grow stale, and your imposture [...] [...]scovered, and at last change into some [...] disa­ster?’ ‘I swear to thee upon the faith of a Gentleman (said Don Carlos) that to morrow I will take leave of them, if I can content my desire but this one night; and find but thou an invention for the la­ter, and I engage to make a pretext for the former. Furthermore, thou seest we are near the Court, and in one of the chief Cities of the Kingdom: All these things considered, oblige me to part hence; for if I should stay longer, I shall be sure to be known, which I would not be for all I esteem in the whole World.’ ‘Upon this promise (said Don Sancho) I engage to make you lye together this night; and this is the means I shall prescribe: Don Sebastian her Husband is passionately in love with you, and enjoys no other light but that of your eyes, believing you to be of another Sex: It is therefore necessary, for the happy success of our Plot, that you shew him the best countenance imagina­ble, and make him believe that your [Page 142]Flame equals his.’ ‘I have done that this morning (said Don Carlos) to satisfie his passion the best I could, knowing we shall not be long together, and that I have not long to humour his vain impor­tunity.’ ‘So much the better, (replied Don Sancho) it is convenient to follow on your blow, and finally conclude, that if he come to you this night, he shall find the Door open, conditionally it be done as silently as may be, without so much as a word, lest I should hear, who you shall make him believe do lie in the same Chamber with you. And as those that love ardently do always willingly make themselves believe what they desire, so he will make little difficulty to believe all you shall say. And further, I per­swade my self, that if thousands of ob­stacles should obstruct his design, the imagination of the intended pleasure would make him resolve to hazard as many lives, if he had them, to accom­plish his designs. This done, I will treat with a Servant-maid in the House, who is a good lusty wench, and whom I find to be as tractable as I can desire for my design, and she I am sure will not refuse [Page 143]that to a Cavalier, which she is free enough of to others of meaner rank; so that a little Money, and less Courtship, will easily work upon her good nature. I will therefore give her Money to buy a pure Holland Smock and fine Night-dressing, with some rich Perfumes to sweeten her Locks, and other parts, and take away the smell of the Kitchen. The appointment shall be half an hour after Ten in the Evening; and I will order her to be as silent as you shall desire Don Sebastian to be: and when you judge the hour to approach, it will be necessary you leave the Chamber to go to your Pages, who for that purpose shall be ordered to leave open the Door, for fear of making a noise; and in the mean time I will keep my Bed, and expect my Damsel, with whom, being come, I will stay a little while, and then rise, and pretend my self very ill at the Stomach with a sudden qualm, and tell her very low, that I would desire her patience a very little while, and I will return to her immediately; and so I will come to you into the Pages Chamber. But first it will be necessary you tell him, that for [Page 144]some reason, which you may easily in­vent, you and I have changed Beds, that so entring into the Chamber, he may turn to the left, and not to the right, and so he will come directly to my Bed, where he will find this fair Lady of the Kitchen, with whom let him pass the night as contentedly as he can; but in the darkness and secresie that will then be, assure your self he will find all Cats gray: And in the mean time, Sir, with­out pains or danger, you may arrive safe­ly at his Wifes Chamber; where having brought you by this device, I think I may then leave you to your self for the rest. This being finish'd, I think it may be easie to add three or four more Acts to the Play, if you think it worth the Candle. Which being done, we may easily disengage our selves of their com­pany, and return speedily home; for I am afraid my Lady, your Mother, will be in great care for you, hearing nothing of you, and will have just cause to com­plain of our Proceedings, if we add not another invention to our former, to ex­cuse our selves of so grand an absurdity, of staying so long from her without wri­ting [Page 145]to her: But as for that, let it be my care, and relie upon me, that I have not yet so exhausted my Inventions, but I shall have one left for that purpose to bring us handsomly off.’ Here Don San­cho ended his Discourse, and Don Carlos remained as satisfied as the Soldier, who the same day of his shewing his Certificate of the Services he has done on several occa­sions, receives the full recompence of his Services, and the accomplishment of his desires; or like a sick person, who by a violent Fever being brought to despair of Life, sees the fury of it abated on a sud­den, and himself able to walk without any pain about the Chamber. This resolution being taken, Don Carlos acquainted Donna Margareta with it, whose inclinations led her to approve well of it, and dispence with her Husbands having a new Bedfellow, be­ing so well satisfied with her own. Final­ly, they studied their Parts so well, that before the Sun had finish'd his Carriere, they were all ready for the Stage.

CHAP. I.

THe half hour past Ten at Night was scarce come, when our mer­cenary Damsel (desi­rous to know whether the Embraces of a Ca­valier or those of his Servants were more pleasing, having often tasted of the one, but seldom of the other) left her own Chamber for Don Sancho's, more trimm'd and perfum'd than a Coun­trey Bride; or like an old Woman, who, [Page 147]careful to supply the defects of Age with the industry of her Hands, so washes, paints, and polishes her face, that the de­faults of Nature being rectified by the sup­plements of Art, of a wrinkled deformed Megara, she becomes a plump and beaute­ous Helena. Being come to the Chamber-door, she open'd it silently, (it being for that purpose left unlatch'd by Don Sancho) and, being entred, she shut it as it was be­fore, and presently she found the Bed, it not being the first time she had made such Visits; and could it have been darker than it was, she could easily have done it, be­ing daily so well acquainted with the Chamber. Being in the Bed, I cannot say, not is it material to the Story, whe­ther the scent of her Perfumes and clean Linen, overcoming that of her Sweat, might work any effects upon Don Sancho's Concupiscence, she having spread her Perfumes (and not without reason) over most parts of her Body; or whether (like the Beggar that would deceive his Sto­mach and Senses, by eating his Bread in the smoke of Flesh-meat) he might fancy that this were some beauteous Lady, and com­pare her Eyes to Stars (or more properly [Page 148]to those of an Owl) brightest in the dark, and in that imagination break his intenti­ons, which were onely to stalk under her Belly to another design: However he pas­sed this quarter of an hour I know not; but this I know, that her attractions were not strong enough to keep him beyond it: for, sutable to his design, feigning a qualm, he left her at the quarter of an hours end, and went as softly as he could possibly to his Master in the Pages Chamber, where we will leave them jesting and laughing at what was past, and earnestly expecting what was to come, and Don Carlos onely staying for the hour of Assignation, and re­turn to Don Sebastian, who also expected his.

Don Sebastian, I say, who had thought every minute a year hitherto, till the time came in which he hoped for the full fruiti­on of his dear Leonora, in the midst of his tedious expectatation of the Clocks stri­king Eleven, fell into a profound sleep; but whether proceeding from the bare ef­fects of drowsiness, and the ascent of moist Vapours from the Stomach to the Brain, or by a more immediate influence from Heaven, which perhaps moved by mercy [Page 149]to his spiritual welfare, as once it was to Adam's temporal, used the same means to a contrary end from that which Adam's was design'd for, that being in order to his en­joying a Woman, and this to prevent it in Don Sebastian: Which of these to at­tribute it to I know not; but this chief cause of his sleep, working by the other of drowsiness, I am the more inclined to fa­vour, when I consider the effect of it, which was this.

Being newly fallen into a sound sleep, he fancied in a Dream that the Clock strook e­leven, (the appointed hour) and he burning with desire of the fruition of his Mistris, leap'd out of the Bed as hastily as the little noise he durst make would permit, and being got into the middle of a great Gal­lery, into which most of the Chambers of the House opened, he thought he saw a terrible Apparition approach him, at the sight of which he was seised with such hor­rour, that his Hairs stood upright upon his Head; and desiring to return to his Chamber the same way he went out, he saw it appear again on that side him. Bru­tus or Dion were not more affrighted when they saw, the one in his Tent, the other in [Page 150]his Gallery, those Phantomes which Plu­tarch speaks of, than Don Sebastian then re­ally was, though effectually but in a Dream; and turning his Head on that side again where he had seen it first, he saw near him a Figure wrapp'd in a white Sheet, the Visage onely appearing, which made him lay hold on his Sword, with his Back against the Wall, and putting himself into a posture of defence against this airy Ene­my, which made straight to him, he fanci­ed that by the glimmering light of a Lamp which hung near him, and thereby made the sight more dismal, that it was the Sha­dow of his Father lately deceased, whom, after having with deep groans twice or thrice pronounced the word Alas! with a most pittiful accent, and a pale and gastly visage, he thought he heard pronounce these words.

‘Whether goest thou, wicked and de­bauch'd young man? Alas! unhappy that thou art, turn thy eyes inwards, and consider that thou livest not like a Christian, but quite contrary, like a vile and impious Libertine, daily crucifying by thy sins him whom thou professest to adore, and from whom thou holdest thy [Page 151]being and subsistence, who (notwith­standing thy obstinacy and hardness of heart) hath hitherto spared thee in order to repentance. Consider how thou lo­sest thy Soul, in indulging thy Body and sensual Appetites, daily striving to out­wade Sardanapalus in the stinking Puddle of beastly Lusts, amongst unchaste Wo­men, to be by them fitted for a Sacrifice to eternal Flames: If thou didst but consider the terrour of those Flames that there attend thee, thou wouldest not a minute longer continue in this vile and detestable course of life, but for ever abandoning these execrable Megera's, which have always reduced to extreme misery, and conducted to a deplorable end, those that have prodigally consu­med and unhappily lavish'd away with them their time and substance, and ren­der'd themselves Slaves to them and their bruitish passions; thou wouldest then, I say, change thy way of living, being as thou art a reasonable Creature, and professing Christianity, thy aim should be truly Christian, to attain one day to Celestial Beatitude. Finally, forthwith examine thy Conscience, be­wail [Page 152]thy sins like another penitent Mag­dalene, and delay not to reconcile thy self with God; for thou knowest not how short a time of life he hath allotted thee.’ And without more word it vanish'd.

These words, though seemingly spoken in a Vision, wrought a stronger effect upon him than the ordinary ones of a troubled Fancy; for wakening, he found himself bathed in sweat with the apprehension of what had pass'd, which so tormented him, that he forthwith wept most bitterly. His Wife the while, whose expectations had kept her waking, admired at his unwonted emotions in sleep, and his tears when wa­king; but saying nothing, expected still that he, thinking her asleep, should go and leave room for her Lover: but he, whose mind was fixed on better things, joyning his hands, and fixing his eyes to­wards Heaven, spent the best part of the remaining night in such fervent and hearty penitence and Prayers, that his Wife lying awake and hearing him, it strook such a holy sentiment into her soul, that she made a firm Vow to imitate her Husband, as she had done before in wantonness, so now in [Page 153]a firm and through repentance; with which good resolution let us leave them expect­ing to disburthen their Souls to their Con­fessors, to return to Don Carlos, whose Head was filled with worser thoughts.

Don Carlos thinking that (the Clock ha­ving strook Eleven) Don Sebastian was by this time at the place appointed, went to the Door of Donna Margareta's Chamber, but finding it shut, he was forced to return, imagining that Don Sebastian was not yet come out: He came again an hour after, but found it as before, which made him think that either some indisposition or sini­ster accident kept Don Sebastian confined to his Chamber; wherefore almost de­spairing of success this night, he went to sleep upon one of the Pages Beds: But his other Affair still running in his head, he arose and went four or five times more, still finding the Door shut as formerly: So quite giving over his design, he betook him to his rest. The Damsel of the Kitchen having also attended the return of Don Sancho three hours or more, and seeing he came not, she rose and returned to her Chamber, thinking he had but mocked her.

CHAP. II.

THe Clork had scarce strook six, when our penitent Don Sebastian went to Confession to the Fathers Teutins, where kneeling before a learned and holy Father, he wept, and confessed his sins, with a sin­cere and hearty repentance. Having heard Mass in the same Church, and finish'd his Devotions, he came forth to return home, yet intending first to visit the other Church­es, and to begin at the great one; but pas­sing into a Lane that comes into the Street calld L' Alcana, or The Mercers Street, he met a Man, who no sooner saw and knew him, but stepp'd to him, and gave him a stab with a Poniard near the left Pap, speak­ing these words so loud that most of the Street heard him, Die thou Traytor, that hast robbed me of my Honour; and leaving the Poniard sticking in his Breast, he fled to the Church.

All that saw this ran to him (as the cu­stom is) and carried the wounded man to the next house: There one look'd at him, another wept, one ask'd how it came, one [Page 155]ran for a Chirurgeon, another for Balsom; another, more wise than the rest, stopped the Blood by Charming; a thing permitted by the Spanish Inquisition, by reason of the great profit that comes by those holy Words: And this, I say, is no foppery; for I my self have seen divers Persons aban­doned for irrecoverable by the Chirurge­ons, which one of these Charmers by Prayers and Orisons completely healed in less than eight days. But all their Charms and holy Words availed little for Don Se­bastian, for it was God's will he should die of that Wound, as we shall see by and by.

The mean time there was so confused a noise and rumour about the Church, as if a great Army had been storming a Town, which was valiantly maintained by the De­fendants: At last one might perceive that all this Hubbub proceeded from the Com­missaries, and a Troop of Alguazils who accompanied them, to lend their assistance to take the Murtherer forcibly out of the Church, the Priests, and many People that assisted them, protecting him; but not­withstanding their resistance, they entred the Church forcibly, and seised the Mur­therer: but being upon the point of carry­ing [Page 156]him off, the Priests, seeing the Privi­ledge of the Church broken, took heart again, and, assisted by the People, took him away, and brought him into the Church again. The Officers on one side cried Aid for the King; the Priests on the other side, Succour for the Church: The People flock'd in on both sides, which so augmented the bruit and clamour, that it almost seemed to equal that of the Sack of Constantinople: But at length the Officers Party proving too strong for the other, carried him forcibly away, and in spite of the Priests hurried him to Prison. Upon this Combustion arrived the Governour of the Town, who seeing the Criminal was secured in the Gaol, made the wounded man be carried to his Inn, sutably to his quality.

I will not trouble you with a Relation of Donna Margareta's tears and lamentations, nor those of his Friends and Relations, at the News of it: I will onely tell you, that having laid him on a Bed in a low Room, all the People in the House came to see him.

The Lady of the Stars, of whom we have not spoken this long time, had never [Page 157]been out of her Chamber since she came from the Forest; but hearing of this Tra­gical Accident of Don Sebastian, she ran to his Chamber, where she found all in tears and lamentations; and approaching to the Bed where the poor Don Sebastian lay bathed in Blood, but with a chearful Countenance, more like a sound man than a dying one, and comforted his Wife in this manner, (who in the mean time pitti­less of her self, tore her Hair, and lamen­tably bruis'd her Breast and Face) ‘What dost thou do, my dearest Wife? Is this the comfort thou givest thy dying Hus­band, to add a Wound to his Spirit, far worse than that of his Body: Alas! every Hair thou tearest from thy Head pulls my very Soul from my Body. Cease thy tears, my Dear, if thou lovest me; for if thou knewest the state I am in, in stead of thus afflicting and tor­menting thy self, thou wouldest behold me with a chearful look, and think me so much more happy than I seem misera­ble, as celestial happiness exceeds that which is earthly; for, blessed be God, I have this morning received Absolution for all my sins, and want nothing now [Page 158]but the last sacred Viaticum, which I beg of thee as the last Office thou canst do to me, by sending for the next Priest that can be had, for I cannot long expect his coming.’

At these last words the Lady of the Stars approached to the Bed, trembling like one in an Ague-fit, and considering the wound­ed Person more attentively than before, she dropp'd down at his Feet, saying, Alas, my dearest Cosin, to what point have my mis­fortunes driven me! This was all she could say, because she immediately fell into a Swoon. The by-standers ran to her, and taking her up, carried her to her Chamber. The mean time the Priest was sent for to Don Sebastian, and having excluded the Company all but Donna Margareta, did the last Offices to him due to a dying man, which he received with great chearfulness, and presently his strength decaying, being unable to speak a word more besides his last Farewel to his Wife, and recommen­dation of his Soul to its Creator, gently breathed it out into his Arms.

I know not how to express to you Don­na Margareta's sorrows and despairs, which are as much too great for me to discover, [Page 159]as they were for her to endure; so great, that they rendred her so deplorably dis­consolate, that all that saw it feared she could not long survive her Husband. Let us leave her to her tears, (since our first movements are too violent for our selves to stop, much less for others) to return to the Kinswoman of the Deceased, who re­turning from her Swoon wept so bitterly, and lamented with such pitteous accents, that they drew tears from the eyes of all the beholders. This while her Governess, who was gone to Mass to a Chappel near the Inn, met by the way with Don Carlos and Don Sancho, and knew them both, for all the Disguise of the one. They all staid at Mass tgether, without knowing of Don Sebastian's mishap. Don Carlos and Don Sancho, after the Mass ended, hearing of the Accident, hasted to the Inn. The Gover­ness of the Lady of the Stars, after she had known them, never lost sight of them, but carefully dogg'd them to the Inn, and went straight to her Ladies Chamber with the News, but was there much astonish'd to find her in that condition, and asked the cause, and how this Accident hapned; many being present, and particularly the [Page 160]Governour, who had never left the Cham­ber from the time that she was brought thither in a Swoon: for, as I have said, and now tell you again to refresh your memo­ry, the Governour had made Don Sebasti­an be brought into the Inn, to know who and whence he was, and those of his Com­pany; but the Beauty of this Lady de­tained him all this while by her Beds side, to see what would be the issue of so many misfortunes. The Governess having sa­tisfied her curiosity, came and whispered her Lady in the Ear, and told her as low as she could the Adventure she had met with in the Church. This News so comforted her, that she remained almost senseless with an excess of joy for so unexpected an happiness; but at length rallying her spi­rits, which had been almost as much dis­sipated by this joy as the former sorrow, and fearing lest delay might ruine an Affair of so grand importance, she asked for the Governour, whom she remembred she had seen in the Chamber a little while before, and he, being not far off, came presently to her. After some few Discourses, the Go­vernour commanded two or three of his Guard to charge the Host to see that none [Page 161]should part out of his House, and to take into custody all the Servants of Donna Le­onora, and of the deceased Don Sebastian, and so made all avoid the Room but two Women, himself, and the Lady of the Stars; who seeing her self thus private with him, began this Discourse.

‘I would willingly, Sir, excuse my self from making you a Narrative of things so little sutable to one of my Quality; but I know no other remedy but to lay open my Malady to you, in whose hands lies the power of healing it: On you onely depends my hope, my repose, and contentment. Give me, if you please, Sir, one moments audience, and having learn'd by the relation of my Life the Chance that brought me hither, you will have just cause to call it deplorably un­happy.’

The Governour desirous to know whi­ther these Prayers and Supplications tend­ed, promised her his best favour and assi­stance, and, if need were, to employ all his Friends to that purpose. Upon this promise (said the Lady of the Stars) I trust in the Divine Bounty that all things will succeed happily with me: And having [Page 162]staid a while to take breath, she broke si­lence as followeth.

CHAP. III.

The Governour heard all this attentive­ly, and took such compassion of this affli­cted Lady, that taking her by the hand, he spoke to her the most courteously he could imagine, saying, ‘Leave this Affair (Ma­dam) [Page 169]to my management, and I pro­mise you, that without either bruit or process I will accomplish all your de­signs; and if I should be so unhappy as not to obtain of your Husband (for so I may call him) that which I demand, I will carry him Prisoner to the King, there to receive the just chastisement of his in­gratitude; and so doing, I shall accom­plish the desires of his Majesty and the Infanta his Sister, to whose liberal hands I am obliged for all I possess: Besides all this, I was so happy once as to have a particular amity with your Father, being Captain when he commanded the best part of the Army in Flanders. But I wish your Governess be not deceived, because it is scarce possible for any man to be Master of that Beauty which both these Ladies possess.’ ‘Scruple not at that, Sir, (replied Donna Hortensia) for he I speak of is one of the most accomplish'd Cavaliers for Beauty that is under the face of the Heavens, and, disguised in a Womans Habit, is able to deceive the most crafty and suspicious Man alive.’ ‘I will go, Madam, by your permission, (said the Governour) and talk to him [Page 170]immediately.’ ‘If you please to do so, Sir, (replied the Lady) you will much oblige me; but I conceive it necessary my Governess first describe to you the fashion of his Habit, and the colour of his Clothes, lest you should mistake another for him.’ ‘He (said the Gover­ness) that wears the white Damask Gown wrought with Silver is Don Carlos: and I do not at all question it; for I saw him at Mass this Morning with Don San­cho one of his Gentlemen.’ ‘We shall know him presently (said the Gover­nour;)’ and thereupon left the Chamber of Donna Hortensia, and went to that where were Donna Margareta, Donna Leonora, and Don Sancho; and without saluting them, or making the least semblance of doing so, but looking with a severe coun­tenance (astonish'd at the Beauty of these Ladies) upon Don Sancho, he spoke to him with a haughty voice, and rigorous words, as followeth: ‘'Tis you must either tell me presently who moved you to assassinate so barbarously this poor Cavalier, or expect the Hangman to ex­tract it from you by torture.’

‘I know not, Sir, (answered Don San­cho) [Page 171]why you speak to me in this manner, since the nobler a Cavalier is, the more civility and courtesie ought he to express both in words and actions; and after the Information made, and Witnesses examined, if there be found any one that deposeth against me, from the Mur­therer himself, to him that is least con­cerned, let my Head be cut off backward like a Traytor: But withal, if I be ab­solutely cleared, that which you have already said is unjust. The King has not put this Authority in your hand to use it so imperiously, and with such arrogance; but onely to chastise offenders, and pro­tect the Innocent.’ ‘Gentlemen, (said the Governour) avoid the Room a while; and you (said he to his Guards) go along with them, whilst I speak to this insolent and rash man.’ So soon as all were gone, the Governour began to examine Don Sancho. and ask him abundance of Questions, to which he answered the best he could; and after his Examination he made him leave the Chamber, and his Guards bring Don­na Margareta, charging them not to let her speak with Don Sancho, or Donna Leo­nora; and having questioned Donna Mar­gareta, [Page 172]he sent her away as he had done Don Sancho, still giving the same charge to the Guards. Last of all he made Donna Leonora be brought, to whom, after many Demands and Answers, he made this Di­scourse following.

‘It is no wonder if the ordinary sort of People of this Age are so inclined to Vice, since Persons of Quality, without either fear of God, or respect of the World, are naturally so averse from Vertue. In former times Nobility was distinguish'd, as first of all created, by a more than ordinary Vertue: but now, on the contrary, it flies that, and glories in Vice. This that I say is so unquestionably true, and so notoriously known, that through all Spain it is brought into a cu­stom, and practiced, as Theft was for­merly amongst the Lacedemonians, as a Gallantry. Wonderful miscarriage! that we who command almost the third part of the World, and whose Reputa­tion is spread through all the rest of it, should have so little rule over our selves, that in stead of being (as we boast) more vertuous than others, we should be so much more vicious, daily committing [Page 173]such base unworthy actions, that the Nations that are subjugated by us, are most impatient under the yoke of men so much their inferiours in Wisdom, Learn­ing, and Vertue. That a Noble young Duke, whose Valour ought to promise as many Victories as Alexander obtained, should so far forget himself and his Re­putation, as to follow after a Woman, disguised in a Habit so vile and abject as that which you now wear, and to in­dulge your Pleasure, to abdicate the Nobility of your Sex, and to range your self amongst those who, in the judgment of all wise men, are esteemed an imper­fection or mistake in Nature.’

‘Pardon me, Sir, if I speak too freely; and that having knowledge of your fault, in stead of praising it, as your Parasites ordinarily do, I blame and reprove it, since both my Charge and Conscience oblige me to it; and if I should fail in that devoir, I should more justly incur the title of Pusillanimous, than now that of rash or unmannerly. I speak not of the death of this Cavalier your Came­rade, since not having yet made a full scrutiny into it, I know not whether [Page 174]your hands are stained with it, or no. If not, (as I desire they may not) all things may easily be remedied. That which you have to do at present, is to return to Flan­ders, (to which I counsel you as your Friend and Servant) and there espouse the Daughter of Gonsalvo de Mendoça Camp-Master-General, whose Honour you have ravish'd under promise of Marriage; and thus accomplishing your Word which you have given her, and that Promise you have made her in wri­ting, you will cover or deface the infa­my you incur by so unworthy an action, and at the same time acquire the Title of the most generous and vertuous Prince in Spain: otherwise I must command you in the King's Name immediately to quit this Habit for your own, and ac­company me to attend his Majesty, and there, according to the duty you owe him, do by fair means or foul that which by love and civility you are obli­ged to. This you cannot avoid, since the most Serene Infanta has writ about it to the King her Brother. To think to deny what I have said, is in vain, since Don Sancho your Gentleman has con­fess'd [Page 175]it; and besides, I have had the honour to know you a great while.’

CHAP. IV.

IT is not to be questioned whether Don Carlos was at once seised with fear and astonishment, hearing the Governour speak so freely, and thereby understanding that his Majesty had been fully informed of the Affair by the Infanta; and he knew the Kings of Spain exact so complete an Obe­dience from their Subjects, and Justice has so impartial a hand over the Grandees, that in my remembrance there was a memora­ble act to that effect at Madrid, where one of the greatest Dukes of the Kingdom, for cudgelling an Alguazil, was deeply fined by the President of Castile. These kind of Examples stop the most rash and hardy Courages, and makes them moderate their own Choler by seeing the punishment of others, thereby stopping the current of their fiery Youth, and accustoming them to obey the Laws, by the strict observation of which the State is aggrandized, and the Princes Authority maintained.

[Page 176]Don Carlos, as well accomplished and crafty as he was, and endowed with an excellent Judgment, seeing himself brought to such a nonplus, redoubles the forces of his wit by the presence of danger, and suit­ing himself to the present Occurrences, and knowing that good Language would work better effects than all the Menaces and Rhodomontadoes he could invent, to him who would be more provoked than daunted with them, laying aside his effe­minate behaviour, with which he had hi­therto treated with the Governour, he be­gun this Discourse with the greatest affabi­lity and courtesie imaginable.

‘To deny, Sir, that the Age in which we live is the most perverse and detesta­ble that ever was, and that Nobility it self is as corrupt and wicked as the vile Populacy, would be a signal absurdity; the daily Examples we see are sufficient testimonies: And it would be an aggra­vation of my Crime, and a defamation of Vertue, to justifie Vice, in being so inconsiderate as to vindicate the fault which I ought rather to be ashamed of, in taking a Habit so unbecoming a Person of my Quality: But I think there are [Page 177]few dare take up the first Stone against me upon this subject, since the most ver­tuous man in the World has not always been able to resist the assaults of Love; and I question whether you can produce one since the Celestial Globe has rolled over the Heads of Mortals, that has not one time or other been subject to it: I avoid Examples, which are so nume­rous, that to undertake to enumerate them, would be to enter a Labyrinth from which I should never disentangle my self: I onely entreat and conjure one thing of you, for her sake whom you love best, not to refuse me a favour I would beg of you, and then I shall con­clude my Discourse in few words.’ ‘I vow and promise you, upon the Faith of a Gentleman, said Don Antonio (for so was the Governour call'd) to do what you desire, provided it be a thing that intrench not upon my Honour or Con­science.’ ‘It neither shall prejudice the one nor the other, replied Don Carlos, smiling. Speak then what you desire, said Don Antonio, that I may give you some proofs of the Service I have vowed for [Page 178]you.’ ‘I onely ask, said Don Carlos, whe­ther ever Love had a Jurisdiction over your Spirit?’ ‘Yes, said Don Antonio, and in such manner, that often transported by this frantick passion, my extravagan­ces, both in words and actions, have caused laughter in all that knew me; and to this very hour I feel its effects.’ ‘If perhaps (said Don Carlos) you were yet desirous to enjoy your Amours, would you think it an unpardonable crime to make use of that Habit your self which you blame so rigorously in me, if you were assured of the accom­plishment of your desires in the enjoy­ment of your Mistris.’

The Governour, after a short time of silence, thought it convenient to acknow­ledge it, fearing that a denial might be a wrong to one whom his Soul adored; and therefore he thus answered him smilingly: ‘I should not onely, Sir, for her sake take upon me this Habit which you wear, which is suitable to a Lady of the best Quality, but even that of a Kitchen-wench, to enjoy her who is Mistris o my Heart, and whose Eyes have kindled [Page 179]those Flames in my Breast which daily consume it.’ ‘Then, Sir, (replied Don Carlos, smiling) you have much wronged me by your accusation, since you by this seem to possess as much good fellowship as another: And further, you ought to consider, that the ancient Poets, who have always adored Jupiter, as he on whom the vast Machine of the Universe depended, have yet introduced him in a Womans Habit to enjoy his fair Calisto, and otherwhiles have given him the shape of a Bull to embrace his beloved Europa. I have presumed, Sir, to trou­ble you with this Discourse, to put you in mind that the faults committed through excess of Love may justly claim a privilege of remission above other of­fences: And, by what I understand, you, that censure with such liberty the miscarriages of others, may justly un­dergo a reprehension for your own. But laying aside these and many other Rea­sons which might be pertinent in order to my vindication, as to the point in question, I shall now inform you, that I am not onely willing to accomplish the [Page 180]Matrimonial Vow I made to the Lady you speak of, but also to part hence to morrow morning to beg pardon of his Majesty for the fault I have committed, and permission for a Journey into Flan­ders to seek the dearest Object of my Soul: And I assure you, that what I have already done, was not with a design to deceive her, nor falsifie my Faith; but onely in order to the obtaining permission of his Majesty and my Mother for our conjunction in the Sacred Union. But all that now remains to trouble me is, the apprehension that this youthful acti­on should come to the Kings Ear, the prevention of which I would willingly purchase with half of what I possess.’ ‘If, Sir, you promise me (said the Gover­nour) to accomplish what you have said, I will engage to procure that his Majesty shall never know it, and that those of this House shall never publish any thing to your disadvantage, on condition that you be not found culpable of the mur­ther of this Cavalier, Husband of Donna Margareta.’ ‘I promise you, upon the Faith of a Gentleman, (replied Don Car­los) [Page 181]to perform all this that you desire; and let my Head pay the forfeiture, if the Murtherer do in the least charge me with this Assassinate, or any of my Do­mesticks.’ ‘Ah, Sir, (replied the Gover­nour) how cordially shall I embrace you if this be true that you have said! And if you please to accompany me but a little way, I shall save you a Journey into Flanders, to seek that which you shall find nearer hand.’

These words strook Don Carlos into a great astonishment, being unable to com­prehend what Don Antonio meant by this Discourse, but however he followed him into the Chamber of Donna Hortensia, whom they sound sate upon her Bed, upon a Cushion of Crimson Damask embroide­red with Gold, having round about her abundance of Violets, Jessamins, and Ro­ses. At first Don Carlos did not know her, partly because her Head was turned on one side, and partly for the alteration which was caused in her Face by the griefs and afflictions she had lately suffered, being but newly returned from a Swoon: But turning her Head to answer the Governours [Page 182]Salute, she was presently known to Don Carlos, who even ravish'd with joy, ran to her to embrace her, with such violence that it was beyond her power to hinder it, and presently he spoke to her as followeth. ‘O my dearest Life, sweetest Pledge of my Heart, I here cast my self at your Feet, that you may take what vengeance you please upon so unpardonable a crime. Why do you not answer me, my Soul? Why turn you from me? But alas! What is it I demand? What do I say? Or what can I think, that had not the discretion to guard so inestimable a Treasure when I had it in my possessi­on? O that over-ruling Providence, who soundeth the bottoms of our Hearts, and knoweth the depth of our Intentions, whose influence upon my Spirit has made me a thousand times re­pent my ingratitude to this incompara­ble Lady, which I have now the happi­ness to embrace, would vouchsafe to touch hers also, and cause her, by bury­ing my offence in eternal oblivion, once more to bless me with that affection I have so justly forfeited. And why this [Page 183]aversion (said he) my better Genius?’ And these words he accompanied with the tenderest Caresses he could invent, some­times kissing her Rosie Lips, sometimes her lovely Cheeks, which had newly changed Deaths pale Livery for the most lovely Scarlet, and sometimes her Hands more white than Ivory, with a violence too strong for her resistance. All that were present at this Interview were transported with joy, and particularly the Govenour remained more ecstasied with the pleasure he took at our two fair Lovers reconcilia­tion, than Archimedes when he traced the Lines in his Study which defended the Walls of Syracuse.

Like as green Wood laid on the Fire consumes all its moisture before it inflame, and after that is spent, takes Fire and burns like dry Stubble: So this Lady, whose Humidity had all this while been distilling through her fair Eyes in pearled drops, after its evacuation her Heart be­gun by little and little to take hold of the Fire of Love; till at last being come to a total Conflagration, she cast her self on his Neck, and embraced him with the [Page 184]same Arms with which a while before she had defended her self against him; and with all the dearest testimonies of an intire affection, called him her Soul, her Life, her Happiness, sealing each word with a hundred Kisses.

Stay here thy flight, my Pen; for my Eyes are so dazzled with this ravishing object, that they will no longer serve me to form these Letters, nor my Hands to regulate those Lines I should trace upon this Paper.

It is not to be doubted whether or no the Governour were still more rejoyced with the incomparable Amity of our two Lovers, seeing all his designs thereby pro­sper to his desire. He approached to­wards them; but it was after the appea­rance of shame upon their Counte­nances, they having begged pardon of him for their incivility, since the sudden tran­sport of so unexpected a joy had made their Devoirs to him give place to the re­sentments of their own good Fortune. But Don Antonio, who was as courteous as discreet, and most advantageously endow­ed with all the Accomplishments befitting [Page 185]a Cavalier of his condition, answered them with so civil and obliging language, promising them to employ all his Power and Authority in their service, that both out Lovers were brought to acknowledge that Divine Mercy had regulated their mishaps and disorders by a signal Provi­dence, that by his sage and prudent con­duct they might happily arrive to the ac­complishment of their desires. And for a further confirmation of their happi­ness, after they had all three consulted together about what they had to do, having called Don Sancho, who was by this time Friends with the Governour, the Governour having cleared him from the aspersion he had laid upon him of having discovered his Masters Secrets, he spoke as followeth.

‘Since you have already done me the Honour to put the Conduct of this Affair into my Hands, thereby judging me capable, by my experi­ence in the Intrigues of Worldly Af­fairs, to manage it to the best advan­tage, my advice is, that without fur­ther dispute you all enter into two [Page 186]Coaches, which I will send you for that purpose this Evening, and be­come my Prisoners in my House: As for the rest, leave it to me, and I question not but the extreme desire I have to serve you, will inspire me with the means of conducting your Affairs to the Point desired.’ Having said this, he took leave of them to go to his Lodging, leaving our two Lovers in the possession of all the joys imaginable.

Don Carlos already touched with Don Sebastian's lamentable end, and repent­ing himself of his fore-past Life, had so far moderated and cooled the Love he bore to Donna Margareta, that he had no further remembrance of her than what his Charity obliged him to, considering that it was not in the poor Ladies pow­er to avoid what had hapned, had she been as chaste as Lucrece. On the other side, his indifference for Donna Horten­sia, which had hitherto been so great, was now converted into so lively Flames, that it seemed to him that Heaven had transplanted all the Accomplishments he before so much admired, from Donna [Page 187] Margareta to her. Also Donna Mar­gareta, whose repentance was first be­gun by her Husbands devout Prayer, was now become so complete a Mag­dalene, that the continual Currents which from her beauteous Eyes watered her Rosie Cheeks, seemed sufficient to have wash'd clean the most defiled soul, whilst her sighs made an Earthquake in her Body. She still called upon her dear Sebastian, who was already bathing in the Floods of unspeakable Joys, which he possessed from the Beatifick Vision.

Reader, stay here a while the speedy current of thy thoughts, to take a short consideration of the volubility and vi­cissitude of Mundane Affairs. He that is to day over head and ears in Feast­ings, Plays, and Dances, and immer­ged in an inundation of Delights, ha­ving the richest Canopies over his Head, and Gold and Silk under his Feet; listning to no Discourse but that which tends to Mirth and Laughter; and a­mongst his Cups and Ladies takes his fill of the most exquisite delights which [Page 188] Bacchus or Venus can make him Master of; him we see to morrow with his Affairs changed into so Tragical a po­sture, that in stead of these incompara­ble Grandeurs, all his Accoutrements are but a poor thin Shroud, which in­vellops his miserable Corps; his stately Lamps and Candlesticks of Gold and Silver, with which before he was usu­ally attended, now changed into four dim Wax Tapers, which burn unpro­fitably about his wretched Carcase; and all his rare Musick and ravishing Notes changed into the pitteous Lamentations of his Friends and Kindred, with which they mournfully attend his Obsequies. He loves to day that which he will hate to morrow, and he abhors this day that which he will passionately love the next. I could enlarge far enough upon this Subject, were it not a wrong to my Discourse and the Readers patience, which I will endeavour to satisfie by re­turning to my Narrative.

The Evening was no sooner come, but the two Coaches which Don An­tonio had promised our two Lovers ar­rived [Page 189]at their Lodging, into which they all entred, after a long trouble which they had undergone to perswade Donna Margareta to leave the Company of her dead Husband for theirs. Her af­fliction had reduced her to so pitteous a condition, and her strength was so abated by the excess of her sorrows, that she had scarce enough left to su­stain her self: at last, partly by com­pliance, and partly by compulsion, con­sidering that staying alone in the Lodg­ing some tragical event might happen through her sorrow, she so far com­plied with their intreaties as to accom­pany them, after having left in charge with some Women, which the Gover­nour had sent to that purpose, to en­shrowd the Body of her dead Husband, and to see performed all the Ceremo­nies requisite to a Cavalier of his Qua­lity, till and things were prepared for his Funerals.

Being arrived at the Governour's House, Donna Clorinia his Wife, with her two Daughters, and a Niece of hers, all endowed with an excellent [Page 190]Beauty and incomparable Civility, went out to receive them, and to testifie their joy which was caused by the Ho­nour which was done them by their ar­rival. An hour was spent in the Com­plements and Caresses usual in such ren­counters; and after that they bent all their Discourse to the comforting of Donna Margareta, and representing to her whatsoever they thought conducing to the moderating her resentments, and alleviating her sorrows; till at last their sound Advice did so far fortifie and en­courage her, that her Countenance te­stified that her heaviness was somewhat abated, which gave no small content to the Company, who attending the hour of Bed-time, endeavoured to divert her the best they could, by entertaining her with things most suitable to pass the time contentedly.

Bed-time being come, Don Antonio took Don Carlos and conducted him to his Chamber, Donna Clorinia his Lady doing the like to Donna Margareta and Donna Hortensia, and so every one re­tired to their several Lodgings, where [Page 191]we will leave them, till the Sun with his resplendent Rays begin another Course in our Hemisphere, and reserve the remainder of our Narrative for the sixth and last Part of this Book.

CHAP. I.

THE Sun was already pretty well elevated, and his ardent Rays begun to annoy the Labourer of the Field, that he was forced to quit his Cart for his ordinary repose, when Don Antonio sent Don Carlos a Suit which had been newly made for a Son of his about the same Age with Don Carlos, [Page 194]whose return from Italy he daily expe­cted. The Habit was of pure Gray Se­govian Cloth, with a Doublet of Cloth of Gold: The Coat was open on both sides, all over-spread with Stars of Gold, and interlaced with a Golden Twist, wrought with such curious artifice, that it composed the rarest Knots that Hu­mane Industry could invent. The Suit being so rich and magnificent, the Cloke, Hat, Ruff, Sword, and all the rest of the Accoutrements were sutable, and be­came him as well as they would have done him they were designed for: And if before in his Female Habit he seemed a Venus, in this his Masculine one he was no less an Adonis.

I leave it to the judgment of those Ladies that have already loved, or at present do so, whether his dear Hor­tensia were not highly pleased to see him so advantageously habited, and in a fashion which seemed to her so much more agreeable than that which he had lately cast off: So that no long­er able to dissemble the excess of joy which she took in seeing the accom­plishment [Page 195]of her desires, and her self possess'd of what she lov'd more dearly than her life, she lovingly embraced him, bestowing on him an infinite num­ber of Kisses, which brought no less sa­tisfaction to her self than appetite to the Governour's Wife and Daughters, who were all so taken with the sight of this lovely young Duke, that each of them could heartily have wish'd the same li­berty, if Modesty, the cruel Tormen­ter of that Sex, had not kept back and restrained them.

We will leave them all in this plea­sant humour (except onely Donna Mar­gareta, not yet well cleared of the grief caused by so irreparable a loss) and re­turn to the Murtherer of Don Sebastian, whom we left in Prison, who was no sooner extended upon the Rack, but he cried out to slacken the Cords, and that he would truly answer to all they de­manded of him: Which they having done, he told them his name was Ro­derigo Carcia, Son of Pedro Carcia Inha­bitant of Viso; that he had married a Niece of Ozmin Gutierres an Inn-keeper [Page 196]of Viso, called Catalina de la Croix; and that having had certain and appa­rent proofs of her dishonesty with Don Sebastian, she having confess'd that he had lain with her the Night he lodged at Viso, he had with his Poniard given her a Recompence for her Treachery and Disloyalty, (which indeed was true; for after he had received the Money of his Uncle for his Charges of going to the Wars, thereby to wear away the sense of this dishonour, the Devil had tempted and incited him to return to Viso, and kill his Wife, which he did accordingly.) After which he confessed, that intending to go to Flanders to serve his Majesty in the Low-Countrey Wars, his evil Genius had conducted him to this City, where being arrived, and desirous to see the Great Church be­fore his departure, he had by the way met with Don Sebastian, and transport­ed with extreme Choler, and pricked forward with a furious appetite of Re­venge, seeing before his eyes the sole cause of his misfortune, and not able to bridle his resentment of the injury, [Page 197]he leap'd to him and stabb'd him.

This was all his Deposition, and all which the Torments could extract from him, though so extremely violent and cruel, being given in the presence of the Governour, that he was scarce car­ried off alive: For which cause the Go­vernour presently set at liberty all Don Carlos his Domesticks, and Donna Mar­gareta's, and early the next morning sent the wretched Roderigo to the Gib­bet, to prevent any Trouble or Sedi­tion in the City; for the Archbishop had sent his Interdict, and Excommu­nicated the Governour (as the custom is when the Secular Power infringes the Ecclesiastick, as it had done here by taking the Criminal forcibly out of Sanctuary.) And herein they proceed with great severity; for this Interdict hath such efficacy, that there can no Mass be celebrated in any Church till it be taken off. But the Judge pro­ceeding equitably in such Affairs, makes Inquisition whether the Offender killed his Adversary by Treachery, or on equal terms; and if he find that he dit it [Page 198]fairly, he is obliged to send him back to Sanctuary; but if the Murther was perfidiously committed, then the Judge sends him to the Gibbet, and after makes his dead Body be carried to the Church (as the Governour here did with Roderigo.) After this the Bishop is obliged to take off the Excommu­nication, by reason of the scandal it would bring to the Parishioners; espe­cially seeing the Judge has proceeded fairly, and according to Law: And therefore this is but a thing of course; for what reason is there that Churches should serve for a Refuge to Persons so hateful to God and destructive to Man as are Murtherers and Assassines.

After Justice had been executed on Roderigo, and all the Services due to the dead had been performed to Don Sebastian, they passed some days in Sports and Recreations, Don Antonio sparing no cost that might conduce to the contentment of his new Guests; but Don Carlos seeing himself more rigo­rously treated than ordinary by his dear Hortensia, did daily consume himself [Page 199]with a languishing desire of other pri­vacies than those he enjoyed before Company; for those were all the cour­tesies he could obtain from her till they were authorized by the indissoluble Bonds of Matrimony, which made him pass his time with such sorrow and melancholy, that those things which served for a divertisement to others, were but an augmentation of his dis­content: Wherefore no longer able to endure the excess of his passion, one day he took Don Antonio aside, and brought him to walk with him in a Garden which Don Antonio had in a Place called the Cigarral, scituate in the most pleasant and fertile place that is near the City of Toledo; where be­ing arrived, they entred into a spaci­ous Walk, bordered with many Wood­binds and Jessamins, and shadowed with Fruit-Trees so thick and expand­ed, that they were proof against the Suns most penetrating Rays in the hot­test Summer; where our Duke having a while entertained himself upon vari­ous Subjects, at last told Don Anto­nio, [Page 200] ‘That the most passionate desire that disturbed his Breast, was to ac­complish his Marriage with the great­est expedition possible; and withal, earnestly begg'd his consent and assi­stance, that he might without fur­ther delay go to present himself and his dear Hortensia at Court to his Majesty, that he might thence obtain Letters to the Dutchess his Mother, to sollicite her consent to, and pre­sence at the Marriage.’ Don Anto­nio highly applauded his design, and closed with him in his resolution.

They were no sooner returned to the City, but Don Carlos communicated his intention to his Mistris and Don Sancho, and at the same time ordered his Equipage to be ready to depart within three days.

It is impossible for me to represent to you the extreme contentment which all his Friends and Servants received from that design, principally the fair Hortensia, who was so much the more overjoyed, when she remembred the troubles and miseries she had endured, [Page 201]and considered the unspeakable joy she now possessed: And still acknowledg­ing the Divine Goodness, from which she obtained all these Benefits, she for a grateful acknowledgment continually elevated her Eyes to Heaven: And as the rigours of a tedious. Winter make the Spring far more delightful, so all the traverses of her inconstant Fortune made the pleasures of her assured Hap­piness more delicious.

All things being prepared for their departure, and themselves ready to en­ter into the Coach, Donna Margareta would have taken leave of them; but Don Carlos and Donna Hortensia did seriously declare, that they could not consent to her departure: And though our beauteous young Dutchess had some cause of Jealousie, having a strong suspicion of what had past be­twixt them, yet this never abated the force of her affection: And though Don Carlos had seriously excused him­self, by professing that he had changed his Habit for another intent, which for many Reasons was fit to be kept [Page 202]secret, yet their Amours having for­merly been so publickly known, and she having seen many manifest appea­rances of it, she inwardly gave little credit to his Protestations; yet being infinitely sage and discreet, the better to content him, she made no semblance of it, but seemed to credit all he said. Add to this the love she bore to her deceased Cosin Don Sebastian, having both been educated together in their tender age, and by whom Don­na Margareta had a Son; and further moved with the pity which one ordi­narily bears to the afflicted, and the Vertue she had always remarked in her Person, all this made her bear her an intimate affection; and that the more, when she considered that she was the cause that Donna Margareta lost so advantageous a Match as that of Don Carlos.

All these Considerations made such an effort upon her Soul, that fearing that all the entreaties of Don Carlos, Don Antonio, and Donna Clorinia his Wife should not be able to prevail [Page 203]with her to accompany them, she fell to making such Caresses to her, em­bracing her so lovingly, and conjuring her with so many tears, that at length her entreaties surmounted the others resolution, and prevailed with her to go along with them, accompanied by all her Train.

Being arrived at Madrid, the Go­vernour, that would never abandon them till he had finish'd what he had so happily begun, presented them to his Catholick Majesty. Things there succeeded so happily, that the King and Queen, well pleased at their ar­rival, made them all the best Enter­tainment they could expect or desire. All the Grandees then at Court flock'd into the Room, astonish'd at the No­velty, but far more at the Beauty of our two Lovers, to see so many Per­fections in Mortal Creatures. The Queen, who had not all this while been able to remove her Eyes from the fair Hortensia, with the sole sight of whom she was so highly satisfied, thought her pleasure could not but be [Page 204]much augmented by a nearer approach, which consideration made her so far dispence with that of her Royal Gran­deur, that she tenderly embraced her, and kissed her twice or thrice, and at that time entertained an affection for her, which never ended but with her life.

At the same time the King, consi­dering the Duke's graceful behaviour, could not refrain from embracing him, and testifying by his Caresses the con­tent he took in his ready obedience to his Commands, he in requital re­compenced him with his Friendship. And to make it appear to Posterity, that the Services of those who have spent their Blood, or hazarded their Lives in their Kings Service, the De­fence of their Countrey and Faith, as the late Gonsalvo de Mendoça had done, should not remain without a Recom­pence suitable to their Merits, ‘I give you (said he to the Duke) fifty thousand Ducates, to help to buy your Marriage-Clothes. And to let the Infanta my Royal Sister see, that [Page 205]what is pleasing to her is so to me, I intend that the Nuptials shall be at my Charges, and that with a sumptuousness and magnificence suta­ble to the Splendour of the Spanish Court.’

This said he made him As the Gran­dees of Spain do before the King.put on his Hat; and be­cause one told him that the Dinner was upon the Table, the King took him by the hand, and placed him at the Table with himself: The Queen did the same to Donna Hortensia; so that our two Lovers had this day the Honour to dine at the same Table with their Catholick Majesties.

In the mean time having sent a Courrier to the Dutchess Dowager, the Duke's Mother, to advertise her of what was past, and to beg her Company, all things were prepared for the Nuptials, and that with such care and diligence, that in less than eight days all things were made rea­dy for that Solemnity. All the Great Persons and Cavaliers about the Court [Page 206]had prepared their Habits and Liveries for the Game called de las An ordinary Pastime in Spain upon great So­lemnities, where the Ca­valiers combat with Tilt­ing-staves made of Canes. Cannas, and those so rich and magnificent, that Art with diversity of Co­lours seemed to have surmounted Na­ture it self, which wrought an admi­ration in all the beholders.

The old Dutchess, Mother of Don Carlos, arriving at Madrid, received all the contentment imaginable, wor­thily accounting that day the happi­est of her whole life; and the joy was the more ravishing, after her fears and sorrows for her Son in his absence, fearing lest some sudden mis­hap had been the occasion of that and his silence.

Madrid had never seen within her Walls greater Magnificences than these: The King, the Queen, the new-mar­ried Couple, and the whole Court were so richly Habited, that the sole Em­broidery of their Clothes was valued at above six hundred thousand Crowns. I cannot assure you of this for truth, [Page 207]nor dare I depose it for a verity, lest some Critick catch hold of it for a lie: And besides, I cannot make out absolute proofs of all I have said in this Narrative, nor such plain Demonstra­tions as are used in Mathematical Rules and Figures; and I think it is fitting for a Writer to embroider his Discourse (as they did their Habits) with a little descanting and enlargement. But to return.

All these rejoycings ended with the day; our new-married Couple, ac­cording to the Custom, were condu­cted to their Chamber, and to a Bed somewhat softer and better accoutred than are ordinarily found amongst the Inns of Sierra Morena, or that of the Carçuela. I suppose it unneces­sary to tell you what they did there; for I believe you know as well as my self. The next Morning their Friends came to visit them in Bed, and made themselves merry with the Jests usual upon that Subject: but our two Lovers filled with pleasure, and even ecstasied with the Delights [Page 208]of the Night past, suffer'd all this Raillery as patiently as Gamesters that have won a great Sum at Play would do those of the by-standers.

About fifteen days after, the Go­vernour Don Antonio took leave of them to return home; and Don Car­los having thanked him for all the Civilities he had received of his Li­berality, made him a Present of eight curious Horses. The fair Hortensia was no less munificent in her Presents to Donna Clorinia and her Daughters, than Don Carlos had been to Don Antonio, who would not have ac­cepted of the Present but by the im­portunity of Don Carlos his entreaties, which he uttered with an accent that sufficiently testified his resentment of his Civilities, telling him that he would seem to despise his Friend­ship in refusing this small testimony of it.

He then left Madrid to return to Toledo, where we will leave him to his Journey (which I have heard since was very prosperous) and re­turn [Page 209]to Donna Margareta, because it is now time to speak of her, whom we must conduct to a safe Port (before we draw out Ship into the Dry Dock) where she may happily pass the rest of her days in all the Pleasures and Content­ments that a Lady of her Age and Beauty could desire; that afterwards my Pen wearied with writing, and my Spirit tired with so long a Di­scourse, may have some time to repose, and prepare themselves for another subject.

The beauteous Donna Margareta, feeling her self somewhat disburthened of her troubles, and now able to support the weight of her afflictions without the help of her former Com­pany, demanded leave one day of Donna Hortensia to depart, and, in recompence of her former Favours, made her an offer of her future Services, with all the submission and civility imaginable.

[Page 210]The fair Hortensia understanding by these words that she on whom above all others she had fixed her affection, intended to leave her, with­out whose company she was not able to live contentedly, nor in­deed at all, more than a Body deprived of its Vital Faculties, begg'd her longer stay with sighs and tears enough to mollifie a Tygre, saying, that without her she was the mi­serablest Creature alive. Don Car­los immediately arriving, and seeing his dearer Half thus afflicted, ran to her, fearing some strange acci­dent had hapned, and taking her in his Arms, learn'd from her own mouth the subject of her forrows; ‘No, no, (said he) my Dear, I will procure her to stay, if all my Estate, my Supplications, and those of my Friends can have any power to perswade her to it.’

Donna Margareta, who never thought before that her departure [Page 211]could bring so sensible a grief to the Dutchess, repented of what she had said, and to shew the zeal she had to her Service, she pro­mised her to stay with her as long as she desired: Whereupon Don Carlos said, ‘You will wrong the Friendship, Madam, that we bear to you, if you think any longer by your departure of crossing our designs, which are to procure you a Husband sutable to your Quality and Merits; for it is nei­ther just nor reasonable that a Beauty like yours should fade and consume it self unprofitably.’ Up­on this the two Ladies embraced one another; and by their Kisses and extraordinary Caresses testified the excess of their Amity.

Donna Margareta remembring what had pass'd betwixt her and Valerio, the Page of her deceased Husband, when by a strange accident (as you have heard in the beginning of this History) he had enjoyed her, and [Page 155]considering that to live honestly, and to pass the rest of her Life in Sa­cred Wedlock (without which the most reserved and modest Woman must have an especial Providence from Heaven to live in Chastity) she thought it necessary for the discharge of her Conscience to mar­ry him; which being discovered to her Confessor, he not onely ap­proved and praised her pious re­solution, but also enjoyned it as necessary.

Valerio was of higher Blood than Fortune, being the Son of an an­cient Gentleman of Osmus, whose Estate had been very much impair­ed by the loss of a great Sum of Money, which being Imbarqued up­on a West-India Plate-Ship, had been taken by the Low-Countrey Rebels Fleet; and he being thereby much impoverished, and having many more Children to provide for, had pre­sented this, being a well-bred and rarely accomplish'd Youth, to wait [Page 213]upon Don Sebastian, at his Marri­age with Donna Margareta at Os­mus, who had always a great af­fection to him for his dexterity and wit, till at last fortune raised him to this Happiness.

Donna Margareta, as I have said, having taken this resolution, impart­ed it to Don Carlos by one of her Gentlemen; but he at first, not knowing the cause of her Resolve, did much resist it, wondering to see a Lady of her Quality desiring to be married to a young man who not long before was Page to her Husband: But at last, seeing her resolution immovable, he consented to it, and gave him for a Portion ten thousand Ducats on his Marriage-day, making him Superintendent of his House.

And thus having brought him to this happiness, in the enjoyment of the fair Donna Margareta; and Don Carlos in that of his dear Hortensia, [Page 214]we will leave them there in all the felicity they could enjoy or hope for, to consider from the Occurrences of this Narration the Vicissitude of Hu­mane Affairs, the Deceits and Wiles that are daily practiced in the World, the Changes of Fortune, and the Misfortunes that daily pursue Unlaw­ful Actions.