Exilius

or

The Banish'd Roman

by

Jane Barker

eBooks@Adelaide
2008

This web edition published by eBooks@Adelaide.

Rendered into HTML by Steve Thomas.

Last updated Tuesday May 13 2008.

Creative Commons Licence
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Licence
(available at http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.5/au/).
You are free: to copy, distribute, display, and perform the work, and to make derivative works under the following conditions: you must attribute the work in the manner specified by the licensor; you may not use this work for commercial purposes; if you alter, transform, or build upon this work, you may distribute the resulting work only under a license identical to this one. For any reuse or distribution, you must make clear to others the license terms of this work. Any of these conditions can be waived if you get permission from the licensor. Your fair use and other rights are in no way affected by the above.

For offline reading, the complete set of pages is available for download from http://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/b/barker/jane/exilius/exilius.zip

The complete work is also available as a single file, at http://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/b/barker/jane/exilius/complete.html

A MARC21 Catalogue record for this edition can be downloaded from http://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/b/barker/jane/exilius/marc.bib

eBooks@Adelaide
The University of Adelaide Library
University of Adelaide
South Australia 5005

Table of Contents

To the Right Honourable the Countess of Exeter.

THE PREFACE.

Volume 1

Book I.
Book II.
Book III.
Book IV.
Book V.

Volume 2

Book I.
Book II.
Book III.
Book IV.
Book V.
Book VI.
Book VII.

Exilius: OR, The Banish'd Roman.

A NEW ROMANCE, In TWO PARTS.

Written after the Manner of Telemachus,

for the Instruction of some Young

Ladies of Quality.

By Mrs. JANE BARKER.

The Second Edition.

To which is added, The Amours of BOSVIL and GALESIA.

To the Right Honourable the Countess of Exeter.

Madam,
As I was extreamly confus'd to find my little Novel presenting itself to your Ladyship without your Leave or Knowledge, so I am as much delighted in having Permission to lay this large Composure at your Ladyship's Feet, by which Means I have the Opportunity to beg Pardon for the Offences committed by the other (which I do with all Humility) tho' I was not guilty, nor can conceive by what Concurrence of Mistakes it so happen'd, unless design'd by Fate to render your Ladyship's Goodness the more conspicuous, in pardoning those Indecorums and Breaches of Respect, always due to Persons of your Quality and Merit, but especially on such Occasions.

Madam, it was this profound Respect which has long oppos'd my addressing to you in this Kind; and which, I believe, would have wholly suppress'd all such Thoughts in me as too arrogant, but that I was encourag'd by casting an Eye on that great Wit, worthy of his Time, Sir Philip Sidney, whose Steps, with awful Distance, I now take Leave to trace; and beg this may find the same Acceptance thro' your Goodness, as his found thro' its own Merit; and then I am sure my Roman Heroes will be as safe in the Protection of the Countess of Exeter, as his Arcadians were in that of the Countess of Pembroke . Your Ladyship's Virtue and Prudence having gain'd so absolute an Empire over the Hearts of the World, that none can reject what you are pleas'd to approve, nor slight what you are pleas'd to encourage: So that one gracious Look from your Ladyship will raise my Exilius from his Dust, and make him live; live in the Hearts of all the Fair, and in the Esteem of all his own Sex, 'till they make his unfashionable Constancy become the newest Mode, by their wearing it, in practising what they have so long exploded and ridiculed.

Thus it is in your Ladyship's Power to reform the World, and restore heroic Love to its ancient Jurisdiction. It is in your Power, Madam, to dissipate all those Clouds of Tribulation which encircled these my Roman Lovers, from the Time of their Separation at Rome, 'till their Return to their Father's House in the Country.

And now, Madam, give me Leave to pause a littleWas it not Burleigh house, with its Park, Shades, and Walks, that form'd in me the first Idea of my Scipio's Country Retreat? Most sure it was; for when I compos'd my Romance, I knew nothing farther from Home than Burleigh and Worthorp. And 'tis as true, that those bright Heroines I have endeavour'd to characterize, are but some faint Resemblances of the noble Ladies, who inhabited those stately Palaces; amongst whom none has been a greater Ornament to this noble Family than your Ladyship. I dare not enter upon the Particulars of those Perfections which charm all that know you, lest I should lessen what I most desire to commend, they being above my Capacity; and tho' this be the common Excuse of all defective Writers, yet, I rather chuse that beaten Tract, than deviate into Complements, which my Education renders me uncapable to perform; therefore shall conclude with the Words of that great Sage; Many Daughters have done virtuously, But thou excellest them all: Chiefly in Humility and Condescention, in raising me from my Obscurity, to the Honour of subscribing my self, with profound Respect,

Madam,
Your Ladyship's most humble,
And most obedient Servant,

Jane Barker.

THE PREFACE.

Tho' I cannot see my Fancy with the Hopes of Praise or Profit from the following Book, yet I am willing to plead its Cause, and deliver it with as fair a Title as I can to my Reader's Approbation, to which ('tis said) Books of this Kind have very little Right. For the Grave dislike them for treating on so gay a Subject; and the Sparks, for confining the Subject to such strict Rules of Virtue and Honour: So that a Romance is like the Husband in the Fable, whose Young Wife pull'd out all his grey Hairs, and his Old one, the black. Thus it far'd with this Kind of Heroic Love of late; it has been, as it were, rally'd out of Practice, and its Professors laugh'd out of Countenance, while Interest and loose Gallantry have been set up in its Place, and monopolized all its Business and Effects. How far this has been an Inlet to that Deluge of Libertinism which has overflow'd the Age, the many unhappy Marriages, and unkind Separations, may inform us, and at the same Time shew how proper an Ingredient Love is towards the making an happy Marriage; for where Love is not the Cement, as well as Interest the Foundation, the Superstructure of Conjugal Faith seldom stands long; the first Wind that blows at the Change of Honey−Moon, will go near to shake, if not quite overthrow, the Fabrick. Nor can it be otherwise expected, since a Blessing from Heaven attends not on those who enter the holy State of Matrimony thro' the Gate of Perjury, by vowing everlasting Love where their Affections scarce surmount Indifferency, but count upon a Beau Gallant or a Coquet Mistress, to answer all Hymeneal Happiness; so it is but just they fail of that Felicity in their Espousals, they aim'd not at in their Courtship. To these it is not strange that heroic Love appears a Fantom or Chimera; but to those who aim at a happy Marriage, by the Way of Virtue and Honour, need consider but very little, to find that it lyes thro', or borders upon, Heroic Love; so that Romances (which commonly treat of this virtuous Affection) are not to be discarded as wholly Useless.

In the next Place, the Study of these Books helps to open the Understanding of young Readers, to distinguish between real Worth and superficial Appearances, whereby they discern that it is not a laced Coat, or a large Wig, that makes a Cæsar or a Scipio; nor all the Utensils of the Toilet can make a compleat Heroine, but true Virtue and Honour: Wherefore, one may reasonably conclude, that it is many Times Want of Helps to make this Distinction, which causes young People to make Shipwreck of their Fortune. The hopeful young Heir brings Home a Player or Exchange−Maid, wherewith to bless his Father's grey Hairs; and the young Lady recompenses her Mother's careful Education with some beggarly Beau, or rake−hell Gamester, who, perhaps, never had Luck in his Life but in winning of her. Whereas, 'tis to be hoped, that a View of those worthy Characters which Romances represent, might assist them to avoid such dangerous Naufrages, and fix their Affections where Duty and Merit require: And not only so, but even in a regular Affection, they may find Assistance from these Kind of Writings, to demean themselves gracefully. For, since Love is the Passion which generally attends Youth, it is very hard they should be the only Part of Mankind that must act a Scene on this World's Theatre, without being permitted to con their Part before−hand. But beside these Love−Lectures, the young Readers may also reap many Handfuls of good Morality, and likewise gather some Gleanings of History, and Acquaintance with the ancient Poets. In short, I think I may say of Romances, as Mr. Herbert says of Poetry, and hope, that a pleasant Story may find him who flies a serious Lecture.

I might add many Things to evince the Advantage as well as the Innocence of these Kind of Writings; but since the Archbishop of Cambray and Mr. Dryden have done it in Fact, I think I need say no more, but refer my Reader to those great Authors, whose Writings have pleas'd all the World; tho' I think I may say, none have found better Reception than their Romances, Telemachus on the one Part, and Chaucer's Tales reviv'd on the other.

Now, after what has been alledg'd in general, something may be expected of this in particular; but that's very difficult, it being as nauseous to praise one's own Writing, as to complement one's own Face; and to dispraise it, is to hinder the Bookseller, and affront the Reader, in offering him a Book not worth ones own Suffrage. However, one may venture (without Offence) to use the Words of some that have read it in Manuscript: First, that the Author was certainly in Love when 'twas wrote; so, 'tis to be hoped, that that Passion is rightly represented. In the next Place 'twas liked, because 'twas free from long Speeches, and tedious Descriptions of Towns, Places, Sieges, Battles, Horses and their Trappings, &c. Nevertheless, I have since put in one Description, (and but one) which is pretty long, and that is of a Garden; but it being added since the Book was compos'd, those who love not Descriptions may pass it over unread, without any Prejudice to the substantial Part of the Story.

Another Reader was pleas'd to say, It was a Mark of great Virtue in the Author, that could render such an idle Subject both pure and useful; so, 'tis to be hoped, there is nothing opposite to real Virtue. I am sure, if I knew or thought there were, I would burn both the Copy and my Fingers, rather than employ them towards its Publication; but I trust it is such, as no Body need fear to read, nor the Author blush to own. 'Tis true, there are the Characters of two or three ill Persons; but they are inserted by Way of Abhorrence. The Story of Turpius, indeed, is so unnatural, that if I could have alter'd, or taken it away, without unravelling the whole, I would have done it, and not have made the Daughter of so ill a Man, Wife to so great an Hero; nor would have compos'd so improbable a Story, but that I had heard of such a Kind of Transaction in our Times, and so wrote the Character to render it detestable. I call him Turpius, as being more wicked than Clodius, who was such an ill Liver in his Time, as caus'd that Proverb, Clodius accusat Moechos. But if these Characters are disagreeable to the serious Reader, there are others to make amends: But whether there be any that will hit the general Humour of the Age or not, is doubtful; since there is none that will teach a Gentleman to scorn his Country−Seat, nor a Tradesman his Shop. Lewdness is not approv'd in Youth, nor Moroseness made the Character of Old Age; the latter of which, I think, has been the crying Fault of many of these Kinds of Writings. The elder, and consequently the wiser Part of Mankind, have been render'd ridiculous, morose, and troublesome, as if good Humour was inconsistent with Years and both Wit and Manners to be laid aside, together with tawdry Cloaths; and as the Face ceases to be smooth, the Manners must grow rough. Such Characters, as they are an Affront to the Aged, so they are often prejudicial to the Young, who are too apt to build Disobedience on that Foundation; and when their wise Parents oppose their Follies, are apt to draw a Parallel between them and those ill Characters they have met withal. This Consideration, I think, ought to make every Author careful how he represents these Persons; one Stroke of a Pen being capable of doing more Mischief than many Volumes can repair.

As to the Historical Part, I suppose the Reader does not expect much Exactness, it being a Romance, not an History; so, it matters not who, or who, were Co−temporaries; but there having been such and such Names and Families, one may reasonably suppose that some of the Children, or Branches of those Families, flourish'd all at the same Time; which is sufficient to vindicate the Book, in that Point, from extreme Absurdity.

The Language, I hope, the Reader will accept as it is, it being the familiar Stile of the Age, neither so obsolete, nor so refin'd, as to render it obstruse; at least, I design'd it so: But if in this, or any Thing else, I have fail'd to gratify the Reader's Expectation, I am very ready to beg Pardon, correct, and amend. In the mean Time, adieu.

Volume 1

Book I.

Night having withdrawn her sable Curtains, discover'd the bright Aurora rising, whose Beauty illustrated the whole Hemisphere, and thereby excited Clelia, the fair Niece of Publius Scipio, to her early Devotions, in a Grove near her Uncle Scipio's House, where stood a Chapel dedicated to the Goddess of the Morning. After which, she took a Walk in the Grove, for the Pleasure of the cool Morning Air, perfum'd with the natural Product of the Earth; as also to hear the Musick of the winged Choiresters, whose wild Notes were no less delightful than those well−compos'd Ayres, sung in Honour of the aforesaid Goddess. Here she had not took many Turns, but, lifting up her Eyes, she saw a Youth in the Habit of a Page approaching her; who, coming near, cast his Arms about her Neck, saying, My dear Clelia, what Happiness have I to meet thee here! Clelia, both angry and astonish'd, gave him a Reprimand suitable to his Crime and her own Indignation; at which, the Youth pulling off some little Disguise, said, Dear Cousin, behold your affectionate Kinswoman Scipiana! At which, Clelia, quite transported with Joy, embrac'd her with all the Tenderness that Love and Excess of Satisfaction could produce; then seating themselves, Clelia desir'd Scipiana to inform her the Cause of her long Absence, and how she came thus metamorphos'd. To which Scipiana answer'd, That her Adventures were so many, as would make the History too long to recite at that Time; therefore begg'd Clelia rather to let her know what had attended her since their Separation at Rome, and what Turns of Fortune had brought her into the Country, a Place and Station of Life so little agreeable to her Inclinations, or, more properly speaking, which was so much her Aversion. To which Cleliareadily accorded, and concluding it too early to present Scipiana to her Father, thereby to disturb his Morning Repose, they entertain'd themselves in the following Relation.

The History of Clelia.

You know, Madam, said Clelia, that I always liv'd at Rome, under the Conduct of my wise and honourable Parents, the noble Fabius, my Father, and the virtuous Cornelia, my Mother, your illustrious Aunt; a Lady truly honourable in her Birth, Marriage, and all the Actions of her Life. Here I had the Happiness to enjoy your Company sometimes, tho' not so often as my Love and Esteem made me desire; for this charming Solitude, in which you delighted, depriv'd me and the rest of your Friends of that Felicity. The last Time was at the Triumph of your Brother, the incomparable Asiaticus, after his Asian Conquest, which was the greatest Augmentation of the Roman Glory that ever Hero yet acquir'd: And as it gave a most sensible Joy to all honourable Minds, so, more especially to us the near Relations of the Conqueror. Nevertheless, this happy Time was the Beginning of my Misfortunes; for I being with you, amongst the rest of the Roman Ladies, to make our Complements to the Triumpher, according to the Roman Custom, I was surpriz'd at the graceful Mien of Marcellus, who regarded me with an Air so full of Respect and Gallantry, as if he dedicated to me all the Part he had in that Day's Solemnity. At least, I flatter'd myself with this Opinion; and I fear this is a Fault which Maids of all Ranks are too often guilty of; we take Complements for Kindness, Kindness for Affection, Affection for Passion, and so on, 'till we too late find our Mistake, and know that Self−flattery, and a secret Belief of our own Merits, betray us more than those we call False Lovers.

Next Day after the Triumph, you may remember, Madam, that you and I went to render our Respects to Asiaticus,where resorted all the Ladies, as well as the great Commanders of the Army, paying him the Honours of a happy Conqueror and a glorious Triumpher. Asiaticus, according to his accustom'd Generosity, attributed all to their Courage; so, making them partake of the Honours they offer'd him. To which Marcellus merrily answer'd, That they ought not to ascribe too much to their Swords in the Presence of Ladies, whose Eyes were capable of making greater Conquests than the Empire of Asia. To which I reply'd, That if we were all bright as Jemella, and our Enemies amorous as Marcellus, we might pretend to subdue the Universe; for their Marriage being no Way a Secret, I thought one might name her in Publick without Breach of Civility. To which Marcellus made several Returns, by Way of Railery, saying, That Jemella's early Beauty was very bright; yet, when the Sun rises, we cease to adore the Morning Star, having a more illustrious Object for our Adorations. In this Kind of Prattle we entertain'd our selves, whilst Asiaticus was speaking much in Favour of a certain Stranger, who had done Things very extraordinary in that Expedition. 'Tis true, reply'd Scipiana, I remember my Brother spake much in Commendation of an unknown Person, in Terms so advantageous, as seem'd rather the Effect of his Generosity than the Stranger's Merit; for you know my Brother is endow'd with that excellent Quality in a peculiar Manner; but Time and divers Occasions have taught me that this Stranger's Worth needed not those Commendations which proceed from Generosity, bare Justice giving him the Character of a compleat Hero, as I shall hereafter inform you; but at present beg you to proceed in your Discourse.

Madam, said Clelia, it is not proper for me to describe to you any of the Grandeur or Magnificence of Rome at that Time, your self being a Spectator, or rather, your Beauty and Merit making a principal Part of the Solemnity.

When the Time prescrib'd had put a Period to these glorious Diversions, and that we were ready to attend your Ladyship, together with Asiaticus, to this your Father's Country−House, here to celebrate the Marriage between you and my Brother Fabius, according to the Agreement and Desire of our Relations on all Sides; you may please to remember how Fabius, being wounded in the Street, the Night before our intended Journey, was detain'd, and I with him, to attend his Recovery. We suppos'd that my Brother receiv'd this Wound from the Hand of that lewd Wretch Clodius, because he has never been seen at Rome since. True, reply'd Scipiana, it was Clodius did that unworthy Action; for he has avow'd as much to me since, which renders him so perfectly my Aversion, that I can hardly repeat his Name with common Patience, nor think on him but with a sensible Indignation. But I will not enlarge at present, thereby to deprive myself a Moment of that Discourse I have begg'd of my dear Clelia.

Whilst my Brother's Wound detain'd him (said Clelia) Marcellus made divers Visits, partly out of Respect and Kindness to him, and partly to find an Opportunity to discover his Passion to me, which in a few Days happen'd. Fabius being asleep, I was retir'd into the Closet, where Marcellus entering, took the Opportunity to cast himself at my Feet, and make his Address to me with all the Tenderness that a Respect due to my Quality could permit, and the Suddenness of the Occasion dictate: Which I receiv'd with a pretended Displeasure, as counting it an Affront to my Virtue, that he, being espous'd to another, should offer me his Love; to which he return'd, (with much Patience) that a Marriage made in Minority, and never consummated, was nothing in Effect, and such was that between him and Jemella; which I knew very well without his Information: But the Consideration of the many Difficulties that wou'd arise by Means of this Contract with Jemella, made me oppose him, not only in this first Onset, but in divers other Attacks of that Kind. Nor was it only this Chaos of Confusion, which I knew must necessarily fall between these three noble Houses, but my virtuous generous Soul had an Aversion to any indirect Proceeding, and my own Heart told me in what Manner Jemella must resent such an Affront; yet these, and many more reasonable Considerations cou'd not hinder some tender Thoughts from taking Root in my Heart, which have since brought forth such Fruits of Folly, as I shall let you know in the Sequel. I will not repeat to you, Madam, the divers Conflicts of my Thoughts and the Agitation of my Mind on this Occasion; for my Interior labour'd as it were under a Fever and Ague, burning with an irresistible Inclination for Marcellus, and trembling with the Apprehension of so irregular an Affection, of which I saw no Possibility of Cure, but by the immediate Help of the Powers Divine; for which Cause I went to the High Priest of Jupiter, my particular Friend; to him I open'd my Heart, and begg'd his holy Aid and Counsel; who advis'd me to make my Devotions in the Temple of Jupiter, where many had been favour'd with satisfactory Answers. This Counsel I put in Practice as soon as possible, and having perform'd my Sacrifice with all due Ceremony, the Oracle answer'd,

The Gods will never disapprove
The sacred Bonds of mutual Love.

Having receiv'd this Answer, and the Benediction of the High Priest, I turn'd my self to go away, and thereupon discover'd the Face of a certain Person, who had lain before the Altar all the Time of the Service in great Devotion. This Person, notwithstanding the Disguise he wore, I knew to be Marcellus, and he as soon knew me thro' the Veil with which I was cover'd, and accompanying me out of the Temple, he fail'd not to enforce the propitious Answer of the Gods, to justify his Pretensions, and obtain my Consent, which, embellish'd by his Wit and Gallantry, put me so far to a Non−plus, I scarce knew what to reply; only I told him, that what soever the Gods might seem to consent to in their dubious Oracles, a young Lady ought to interpret their Meaning according to the Dictates of filial Obedience, and to have no other Will but that of her Parents. In this Answer I did, as it were, give my Consent; nor could I longer support my pretended Dislike of his Passion, after having been discover'd soliciting the Gods for that Purpose.

Marcellus having gain'd this Point, lost no Opportunity to ask me of my Father; for the same Day coming to visit my Brother, he found my Father by the Bed−side, who began to rally at the young Gallants of the Age, who were so cold in their Amours, and by that Means gave Opportunity to their Rivals to enterprize against them; even you, Marcellus (continued he) will delay your Time, 'till some keen−bladed Rival lay you in your Bed, like Fabius. To which Marcellus reply'd, (with more Affection than Prudence) saying, My Lord, I want but your Consent to secure me from that Danger; for, had I that, I might hope the fair Clelia and I might be so far united as to prevent all designing Rivals. This unexpected Answer not only surpriz'd, but highly displeas'd my Father, in Consideration of Jemella, whom all the World look'd upon as Wife to Marcellus ; so consequently deem'd himself affronted, and me dishonour'd in this Address; wherefore he charg'd Marcellus never to come near me, and forbid me all Correspondence with him; in which my Mother co operating, I was a kind of Prisoner at large, under their diligent Observation. Moreover, to render the Proceeding throughly just and honourable, my Father advertised my Lord Marcellus, Father to my Lover, and Lucullus, Father to Jemella. For which Cause Marcellus confin'd his Son to his Apartment, consulting in the mean Time with Lucullus what Measures to take in this Affair. I at the same Time suffer'd much in the Reproaches made me by my Father, Mother, and Brother, for having forgot mine own Honour, and the Honour of my Family, in entertaining a secret Amour, and that too, with one espoused to another; which Reprimands I must needs own were no more than the Crime deserv'd, and very suitable to those strict Rules of Virtue and Honour they always practis'd, and in which they instructed me their dear Disciple and darling Daughter. Now, tho' Reason oblig'd me to receive these Reproofs with Moderation and Respect, yet the Tenderness I had for Marcellus made me so far transgress my Duty, as to find out Opportunities to correspond with him by Letters, Presents, Messages, and the like; which was not hard to do, by Reason the Domesticks on both Sides were subservient to our Inclinations. This kind of secret Correspondence to me now appears so great a Fault in a young Lady, that I can never forgive myself, therefore wonder not if my Friends remain disoblig'd; for tho' the Intercourse be never so innocent, and the Design never so honourable, (as was this between me and Marcellus) yet it carries with it such an Umbrage of Unworthiness, as extremely clouds and disfigures a Lady's Reputation, in the Opinion of all, even the most kind and generous Part of the World, but egregiously in the malicious and censorious Part of Mankind. However, this pass'd not long undiscover'd by our vigilant Parents; wherefore my Father, all on a sudden, took me in his Chariot, and brought me hither, not letting me know it was my Uncle's House, lest I should advertise Marcellus of the Place of my Residence; at the same Time giving out that I was gone into Egypt, to my Aunt Fabiell, who is there marry'd to a Prince of the Blood Royal of the Ptolomy's. After a few Days, my Uncle came to me, and let me know that it was in his House in which I was detain'd. He encourag'd and promis'd me all Kindness, assuring himself I would act nothing contrary to Duty and Honour; so, leading me out of the little Captivity of my Chamber, gave me the Command of his House and Family.

At this Time it was, that we heard the fatal News of your being lost, as also your Brother, the Noble Asiaticus, and that my Brother Fabius had left Rome, and was gone in Search after you; of all which we never since heard any Tidings. My good Uncle, your Father, was pleas'd to say, his Affliction was extremely mitigated by my being with him, which I count the Effect of his Goodness; but I am sure his Wisdom, Patience, and Resignation under his Sufferings, have been such Lectures to me, as I hope I never shall forget; for as none ever experienc'd the Mutability of human Affairs more throughly than my Uncle, so none ever bore it with a greater Equanimity of Mind, in which he demonstrated himself a true noble Roman, well deserving the worthy Character he had acquir'd, whose Virtue is built on such strong Bases, as the Shocks of Fortune cannot move, much less overthrow: Nevertheless, he is a Mortal, not a Deity, and human Nature wou'd oftentimes exert its Right in many Tears and Lamentations for your Loss, and the Loss of the illustrious Asiaticus .

Whilst I join'd my Griefs here with my Uncle, Marcellus remain'd still at Rome, detain'd in his Father's House. Now hearing of my being gone into Egypt, he began to be out of Patience at his Confinement, it putting him out of all Possibility of following me; and finding no Means to accomplish his enlargement but by addressing himself to the Senate, he was forc'd to put even that in Execution, tho' otherwise very unwilling to make publick the private Animosities between him and his Father. Whilst this was in Debate in the Senate, the Rabble of Rome,who readily entertain any Pretext for Mutiny, assembled themselves about the Capitol, demanded Justice, declaring that they wou'd not suffer a young Nobleman, who had serv'd so bravely in the War, to be oppress'd, or constrain'd by the Caprice of a covetous Father, and such kind of Insolence, suitable to a Mob, the most ungovernable Part of the Creation, who have no Law but their Will, and their Will prompted by their irregular Appetites, or Fancies; yet these are too often the Legislators of our State, which is the greatest Misfortune belonging to a Government.

You know, Madam, (continu'd Clelia) that Marcellus never valu'd the Honour of a popular Applause, as knowing it proceeds from Humour or Passion, not the Merit of the Person to whom they pretend to direct it; but especially, their Kindness was now ungrateful to him, fearing it might displease as well as expose me, and irritate my Father against him; however, it had its Effect; for the Senate, whether unwilling to displease the Mob, or willing to please Marcellus, gave him his Liberty, which he soon employ'd in going to find me out in Egypt, as believing me really to be gone thither. In Order to this, he took his Journey towards Cajeta, a Port near this Place, and most commodious for a Voyage into Egypt; but so it fell out, that he lost his Way in the Night, and arriv'd here, he being in disguise, thereby the better to avoid any Opposition in his Passage that might be made by the Practice of his Father, or Lucullus, Jemella's Father.

In this Transaction I cannot but reflect with Veneration on the Providence of the Gods, and the Care of our good Genius, who, unknown to our selves, and often against our Wills, mislead us (if I may so say) into the right Way, and conduct us thro' unknown Paths, to what we desire, or, at least, to what is best for us, whilst our own blind Will, or rather our purblind Reason, wou'd serve only to train us into inextricable Labyrinths of Difficulties and Confusion. How useful then, and beneficial is the Virtue of Resignation, and entire Submission to the Powers divine? But to return to Marcellus, to whom belongs the Application. He was kindly entertain'd by my Uncle's Servants, and by Chance was put to lodge in an Apartment which extended itself near mine; tho' the Passage by which one enters be far distant. Here it was he heard me talk to my Maids, and knew my Voice so well, as to be convinc'd of my being there, which put a Period to his intended Voyage into Egypt. Next Morning he walk'd forth into this Grove, full of an unquiet Satisfaction, for having found me there, he was ignorant how to come to see or speak to me. Walking thus musing, and casting many Things in his Mind, he at last found at the other Side of the Grove a little House, which he thought might be subservient to his Purpose, and therefore hired it of my Uncle's Steward, and in a few Days, according to his Wish, met me in these Walks, for I come here very often to adore the Goddess Aurora at the Morning Sacrifice. It was in that little Chapel that I saw and knew him, notwithstanding his Disguise; for, the very first Glance of his Eyes discover'd him to be the whole Marcellus, the brave, the amorous Marcellus; and I, no Doubt, as soon discover'd my self to be the tender, overjoy'd Clelia. I cannot but take Notice, how, by divine Providence, we now met a second Time in Devotion, and our Hearts discover'd their tender Sentiments twice unawares before the Altar of the Gods, which I apply'd according to the Dictates of Inclination, and so believ'd it to be a Mark that the Gods were favourable to, and approv'd of, this our Amour, and in the End would bless it with Success.

I soon gave him Opportunity to speak to me, in which he most instantly begg'd me to conceal his being there, 'till by the Intercession of his Friends he had treated with the Senate, and Jemella's Parents about the Breach of that Contract made in their Minority, which would be better accomplish'd in his Absence, all the World believing him gone into Egypt. I confiding in his Truth and Sincerity, promis'd him all Secrecy; he in the mean Time pretending to my Uncle's Servants, and those Country People with whom Necessity oblig'd him to converse, that he was a young Officer of the Army, that left the World out of Devotion, and there try'd to accustom himself to a solitary Life, in Contemplation of the celestial Beings, which indeed was partly true; for he furnish'd himself with many devout Books, in which, no Doubt, he meditated; and for his Recreation he had his Musick, of which, you know, he is a great Master. I saw him as often as I could in the little Chapel, and sometimes in the Walks, where he found Opportunities to give me Letters, containing large Accounts of his Passion, to which I made him some Answers in Writing, for we cou'd not correspond verbally, or, at least, but very little without Suspicion. Thus, my dear Scipiana, I gave under my own Hand the Certificates of my Folly, and sign'd the Testimonials of my Indiscretion; for sure there is not a greater Imprudence, than for a young Lady to write to her Lover: I am now sensible it never ought to be done, no, not even on the Account of Denials or Reprimands, much less to give any Assurance of Kindness; for many Lovers aim no farther than to obtain these Marks of Conquest, that among their Companions, they may triumph in shewing these Trophies of their Victory, at least, the following Part of Marcellus's Actions seem to evince this Assertion.

A certain Widow Lady, nam'd Libidinia, living near this Place, my intimate Friend, and the Confident of my Love, gave me divers little discreet Hints of his Inconstancy, which I must have understood perfectly if my Reason had not been rock'd asleep with a full Perswasion of his Virtue. She often remonstrated to me the Falshood of the Sex, the Satisfaction they took in betraying ours; that the Vanity of boasting their Conquest, was more pleasing to 'em than the Conquest itself; nay often the chief Motive of their pretended Passion; that a young Lady cou'd never be too frugal of her Favours towards 'em, forasmuch as that they interpret every Look and Word in Favour of themselves, and the smallest Complacency as a Mark of the greatest Kindness; that even the most virtuous of them think it no Crime to falsify their Vows to us, but rather deem it a commendable Piece of Gallantry; with many other Instructions of this Kind, which I took as Testimonies of her Friendship and Discretion, but thought not in the least that it belong'd to me and Marcellus, 'till I found him begin to grow remiss, and several Days pass'd that I neither met him in these Walks, nor in Aurora's Chapel, nor receiv'd any manner of Address or Message from him; then, Indeed, I began to fear I was like to be a President in these Lectures. I must confess, (said Scipiana, interrupting her) I have much Difficulty to believe Marcellus false, it being incompatible with his noble Nature, and the Rules of human Society, after having so openly avow'd his Passion to you, in Prejudice of the noble Lucullus and his fair Daughter Jemella, for him to act an Infidelity, or even an Indifferency, would render him not only unworthy of his Name and Family, but the worst of Miscreants, not deserving human Society; wherefore I beg you to suspend your Anger, and be pleas'd to finish your Story.

Libidinia, said Clelia, perceiving me uneasy under this negligent Treatment, went secretly to visit him at his House, thereby to inform herself, if possible, of the Cause of this sudden Change. At her Return she told me he was sick, which Information afflicted me extremely, as was manifest by my Tears; for Sickness is always a State to be pity'd, but was now deplorable, in Consideration of what he might suffer for want of Assistance and Attendance, which was difficult to be had in that unhappy Solitude, into which, for my Sake he had cast himself. This made me redouble my Sighs and Tears with many sorrowful Complaints, in all which, Libidinia, as a compassionate Friend, bore a Part; and taking out her Handkerchief to dry her Eyes, there fell out of her Pocket a little Picture, which I knew to be my Portraiture, that I had given him in Testimony of my Affection, and Belief of his Fidelity. The Sight of this did very much surprize me, not knowing how to iaterpret the Meaning. Libidinia,after a considerable Pause, said, my dear Clelia, I can no longer disguise the Truth, Marcellus is more distemper'd in Mind than Person, for he has made me a thousand Protestations of the most tender Passion in the World; which indeed did not very much surprize me, by Reason of the many little Hints and Advances he had divers Times directed to me, which occasion'd me so frequently to advise you by Way of Precaution; but now, having an Opportunity, he discharg'd his false Heart to me in as false Words, leaving nothing unsaid that might assert a real Passion; and when I endeavour'd to make him sensible of his Crime, by shewing him your Picture, which was pinn'd up just by him, and withal repeated to him your innumerable Virtues, and particular Goodness towards him, in having, for his Sake, risk'd the Love of your Parents, the Esteem of all serious and judicious People, and dedicated to his Love only, that Youth and Beauty, which ought to be the Object of many Adorers. The ungrateful Wretch, (continu'd she) with many opposite Replies, gave me the Picture, telling me, he found nothing charming in it, nor in its Original, since his Eyes were bless'd with the Beauties of Libidinia. This Infidelity, said Libidinia,whether real or feigned, is alike unpardonable; for, whether he abus'd my Friend in an absolute Act of Perfidy, or me in a feign'd Gallantry, I count our selves both equally and doubly affronted; for I deem whatsoever is done to my Friend as done to myself, and I doubt not but my Clelia has the same Sentiment on my Behalf; and it was the Consideration of this unworthy Behaviour to us both that caus d my Sighs and Tears, more than his Indisposition, tho' I endeavour'd for your Sake to disguise the Truth for the Present, 'till my Industry cou'd Work your Heart into some Kind of Indifferency towards him. But Fortune has extorted the Secret from me sooner than I intended; wherefore, Madam, I can only recommend to you to join with me in a just Resentment of his Unworthiness; banish, detest, and abhor him, as the worst of Criminals.

The Knowledge of this his Falshood, continu'd Clelia, enrag'd me to the last Degree; and now, too late, I was sensible of my Folly, in contracting an Amour, and carrying on a Correspondence of that Consequence, against the Consent of my wise and honourable Parents. Now I perceiv'd to my Sorrow, how Passion had clos'd the Eyes of my Understanding, and rock'd my Reason into a Lethargy, otherwise I shou'd have foreseen his Falshood in the Person of the abandon'd Jemella. But the just Gods were pleas'd that I shou'd thus find my Crime in my Punishment, and so far aveng'd the Cause of that wrong'd Lady, as to make her Disgrace light on my Head; and that Willow Wreath I vainly thought her Due, was now become a Crown for my forsaken Temples. My Heart, which had often treated its amorous Thoughts at her Cost, now languish'd in Despair, and became a Prey to all the gnawing Regrets that attend a slighted Maid. I who had neglected the Documents of my Parents, now became neglected by him, for whose Sake I had thus overlook'd my Duty. I who had, by my disobedient and unwary Conduct, in some Degree tarnish'd the Glory of my illustrious Family, was now liable to have my Virtue, Youth, and Innocence, obscured and sully'd with whatsoever false Shadows the malicious World shou'd think fit to draw on this Occasion. In fine, every Thing appear'd to me with an hideous Face, and was the more terrible, by Reason that my self was the only Cause of this Deformity of Affairs; for 'tis certain, no Reproach is like Self−Reproach, nor any Misfortune so hard to undergo, as what we draw upon our selves Then judge, Madam, in what Anxiety of Thoughts my poor Heart labour'd. But after the first Efforts of my Anger were past, I begg'd Libidinia to agitate in this Matter as she thought fit, only in Gross I desir'd her to restore him a certain Nosegay of Jewels, which he had presented me, and charge him never to see me more.

In this State, dear Cousin, are my Affairs at present, being under great Difficulties what to do; for I am asham'd to discover to my Uncle his being here in Disguise, and unwilling to let him remain so any longer, after such Treatment. I shall trust to your Wisdom and Goodness, to deliver me out of this Dilemma; but at present, if please, we will go in, for, no Doubt, by this Time my Uncle is stirring, whose Happiness in the Sight of you, ought not to be deferr'd.

Book II.

Marcellus being pretty well recover'd of his Illness, walk'd out to take the Air; but not daring to approach those Walks which Clelia frequented, (by Means of her late Prohibition) he took the Way of the great Forest, which extends its Confines to the Sea−Coast, and being debilitated by his Sickness, betook himself to a Seat, where he heard the Voices of some distress'd Persons, complaining one to another of their past and present Misfortunes. Marcellus, according to his natural Goodness, address'd his Steps towards the Place, and there found two Men and a Woman, set upon a mossy Bank, under a Cluster of Bushes, which they design'd that Night for their Lodging. Marcellus, with great Courtesy, invited them to his House, which Favour they gladly accepted, and being come thither, he desir'd them, if it might consist with their Conveniency, to inform him what hard Fortune had reduc'd them to these Necessities, from which, by their Mein, they ought to have a perfect Immunity. To this the Strangers readily accorded, and whilst Supper and Beds were preparing, the Lady, at the Desire of the others, began as follows:

The History of Clarinthia.

My Name, said she, is Clarinthia, Daughter to Turpius, and the sole lawful Heiress of all his great Riches: But the Irregularity of his Life makes me almost asham'd to own him for my Father; his large Possessions not being able to cover, nor the Weight of his Riches to poize, the Infamy of his Actions; which filial Respect and Prudence wou'd oblige me to conceal, were they not too much known to all the World already. Besides, when such Benefactors as you all are, call for a Recital, it is Heaven that speaks, and commands a true and undisguis'd Relation.

In my Childhood I was very intimate with Scipiana, Daughter to Publius Scipio, as also her elder Brother Scipio,who since, by his great Actions in the Conquest of Asia, has obtain'd the Name of Asiaticus, as I have heard, for I have not seen him since he was dignify'd with that Title, and therefore in my Discourse know him by no other Name than that of Scipio; who, tho' young as he was, appear'd sensible of that Passion which at one Time or other charms all Hearts; these his tender Sentiments he express'd to me in little innocent Efforts, suitable to his Years and my Simplicity. Being ready to go for Athens, to compleat his Studies, he endeavour'd to make me promise him not to accept of the Addresses of any Lover during his Absence, to which I answer'd according to the Dictates of my childish Innocence, which merits not your Attention.

A little after his Departure, his noble Mother dy'd, his little Brother Scipio was lost, and Catullus, the particular and intimate Friend of his Father, was banish'd; all which happening in a little Space of Time, made Publius Scipio leave Rome, and in extreme Grief retire to his Country−House, taking with him Scipiana, his Daughter, resolving for ever to absent himself from that fatal Place, that Theatre of Horror, on which had been acted these his great Misfortunes.

After the Departure of Scipiana, my dear Play−fellow, I took very little Pleasure or Satisfaction in any Company, or Diversion that Rome could present, only apply'd my self to my Devoirs, according to the Will of my virtuous Mother: But the Gods left me not long in this happy State; for it was but little after, that the Death of this virtuous and honourable Parent put a Period to my Felicity; for then my Father resolv'd to marry me to his Bastard Son Valerius, which was such a Piece of Incest, that I could not shew the least Complacency, much less Obedience to the Proposal. My Father not believing this Refusal to arise from any Principle of Virtue, but rather from some Pre−engagement of my Thoughts to some other of our young Romans, remov'd himself and me into the Country, where he thought he should not fail to discover, and consequently to disappoint any such conceal'd Intrigue. But I too well knew my Duty to him and Heaven, as also what I ow'd to mine own Honour, to entertain any Correspondence of that Kind, though never so innocent and honourably meant; for the very Being and essential Part of an honourable Amour is perverted, and becomes unworthy, if not criminal, when entertain'd by a young Lady without the Consent of her Parents. These were my Maxims, to which I resolv'd to adhear, and of which I gave my Father all the Assurance possible; withal begging him, that as I had taken the Rule of Virtue to guide both my Actions and Inclinations, he would not interrupt my Progress therein by any opposite Command. But all was to no Purpose, I was perpetually persecuted with the Courtship of Valerius, and the Persuasions of my Father.

Now it was that Asbella, Mother to Valerius, (a Lady really of Quality and Fortune) retir'd herself to her Estate in Sicily, pretending to spend the rest of her Days in the Practice of Virtue; but the World believ'd rather it was the Effect of her Discontent, because my Father did not marry her when at Liberty by the Death of my Mother; thereby to repair, in some Degree, her ruin'd Honour. What was the Subject of her Retreat, I had not the Curiosity to examine, but willingly accorded my Belief to that Key to which she tuned her own Discourse, and so concluded Virtue to be the principal End of her Retirement.

In the mean Time, my Father finding his Perswasions, and Valerius's Courtship, fruitless, began to treat me with Importunities and Menaces, and at last grew angry to that Degree, that he vow'd I should never see the Sun more, 'till I made my Will comply with his, in marrying Valerius; treating me with much Rigour, or rather Tyranny, still believing, I suppose, that I must have some secret Passion elsewhere. Valerius being gone to Rome about some Business for my Father, I was in Hopes his Absence would have afforded me some little Respite, at least from the Fatigue of amorous Pursuits; but behold a new, and I think unheard of, Calamity befel me! for contrary to all Morality, and the Laws of Heaven, my wretched Father became enamour'd of me, and express'd his Flame with as much Assurance as if it had been no Way criminal; and when I urg'd the Illegallity of this heinous Passion, and that it would cause the Vengeance of the Gods to descend on him, and render him at once miserable and infamous. He made Answer, That the Notion of Deities was a Chimera infused into my Fancy by my Mother, and a customary Education; and that all the World were misled into such Opinions by Priests and Potentates, whose Interest it was to ingage their Inferiors into a Belief of some invisible Powers, thereby to keep them in Subjection. If there be no Gods, reply'd I, how came we and all the World made at first? Sure we did not make our selves! for if we had, methinks we might have preserv'd the Knowledge of this Creative Power in all Ages, and then we might have made our selves a Kingdom or a World when we pleased, and this would save our Romans much Pains and toil, which they continually are at in their Conquests. But besides this Creative Power, methinks the Preservative no less evinces the Belief of some Omnipotent Beings; for how comes it to pass, that the Sun, Moon, and Stars, do not fall upon us? Besides, this perfect Order and Harmony of all Things both Celestial and Terrestrial, as also our own little Microcosme, and interiour Cogitations, assert this great Truth, in which our rational Faculty must needs acquiesce. But, said my Father, admit all this your little Prattle true, is not Mercy one of the chief Attributes of these your Divinities? Then why do you not imitate them, and have Pity on your unhappy Father, or rather wretched Lover, who dies for you? With these and the like Discourses, together with all the fond Actions and Grimaces of a passionate Lover, he continually entertain'd me, that I heartily wish'd for Valerius again, whose Love (incestuous as it was) was yet much more supportable than this other. Moreover, I concluded his Love and Courage would secure my Honour from any Attempts of my Father's Brutality, of which I was dreadfully afraid, knowing him to be a Man that would stick at nothing to satisfy his Sensuality.

The Return of Valerius prov'd sooner than was expected, which, tho' it gave me some little Consolation, yet Sighs and Tears were my continual Entertainment. Being one Day set in my Chamber in a very melancholy Posture, there rush'd into the Room three disguis'd Men, by a secret Door behind the Hangings, who, without speaking a Word, took me away, in spite of all the Cries and Resistance of me and my Women. They carry'd me down many Steps, and thro' divers Turnings under Ground; at last ascending, I found myself without the Castle, where Horses waited, on one of which I was set, and convey'd with Speed for the Space of an Hour or more, 'till we came to a certain great Forest. Here it was that the Chief of these rapacious Wretches essay'd to violate my Honour; but the just Gods, propitious to mine Innocence, by Means of my Cries, brought a Person of Virtue and Courage to my Rescue, which he accomplish'd by the Death of the Ravisher; the other two, who were at a Distance, perceiving what happen'd, came running to assist their Master, where one of them immediately met his Fate, and was sent by the Stranger's Sword to serve his Master in the other World, which his Companion seeing, he made his Escape with all Expedition. The Stranger taking off the Vizards that disguis'd these Miscreants, in order to give Air, if any Life yet remain'd; whose Faces I no sooner saw, but I knew 'em to be my wretched Father, and one of his Servants. O ye Gods! what Surprize and Confusion then seiz'd me! which I express'd in bitter Cries and Lamentations; in the mean Time, the unknown Person did all he could to restore him to Life, but he expir'd with these Words, Forgive me, Clarinthia. The Stranger courteously ask'd me wherein he could be farther serviceable? to whom I answer'd, that I was a Wretch incapable to receive Service or Succour; a Monster unfit for human Conversation; therefore desir'd him to leave me to wander in these Woods, among the Wolves, and other Salvage Beasts, as the most fit Cohabitants for such a wretched Creature as I was made by my Misfortunes: But he endeavour'd, by discreet Arguments, to soften this my Fury, and perswaded me to mount behind him, to seek some Place of Retreat. I had much Difficulty to consent to this Proposal, not only in Consideration of his being an absolute Stranger, but his Hands still wreeking with my Father's Blood; for, wicked as he was, he was still my Father; but Night coming on, together with the Wildness of the Place, oblig'd me to accept of his Offer; so he covering the Body of my Father with his upper Garment, we mounted on Horseback, and follow'd a little Foot−Path, which we hop'd would have brought us out of the Forest; but it only led us to the Abode of a certain holy Hermit, situated in a thick and obscure Part of the Wood, which the Approach of Night, and the Horrors I carry'd with me, made appear dreadful; but the kind Reception we found a little mitigated my first Apprehensions. And if I had been capable of reflecting on any Thing that had the Face of Content, I might here have found a happy Employment for my Thoughts, in beholding the tranquil State of this good Man, and all such who thus betake themselves to a holy Retreat, where they are free from those false Alarms of the World, which beguile us with foolish Hopes, or as foolish Fears; for to these Votaries the Smiles and Frowns of Fortune are equal; for they court not the one, nor apprehend the other. They dance not the Measures play'd by Ambition's Pipe, nor wander after the Ignis−fatuus of Vain−glory. Their Poverty secures them from Envy, and its being voluntary, places them above the Reach of Contempt; in renouncing the World they are Masters of it, and by subduing their Passions, they become distinguish'd and admir'd by the rest of Mankind, to whom their Words are Lectures, and their Actions Sermons. They find Plenty in the Contempt of Riches, and great Honour in virtuous Actions. Their Contemplations are to them all Company, and their devout Exercises great Diversion. Their Food is savoury, and their Sleep sound; the one is not disturbed with Cares, nor the other made unpalatable by Intemperance. Their abstemious Way of living preserves their Health, to which is ordinarily annex'd long Life, and they fear not Death whose Lives have been so perfect. In fine; they are in fact what Socrates and his Adherents pretend to teach by long Study, and elaborate Speculation. The Consideration of all which, made us without Difficulty commit to this holy Anchorite the whole of what had befallen us, and prevail'd with him to go see if he could find the Body of my Father; but his Pains prov'd ineffectual: for at his Return he told us that he had found the tragick Place of that Rencounter, but the Body was gone, which was an Augmentation to our Disquiet. The Stranger having receiv'd a Wound in the Combat, was over−perswaded by us to accept of the Hermit's Bed, where having taken some Refreshment by the good Man's Charity, I entreated him to compose himself to Rest, in Consideration of the Wound: To which he replied, That he must never more pretend to Rest nor Repose, since he had been so unfortunate to render me fatherless, and consequently the Object of my Anger, if not Aversion, which depriv'd him of all Hopes of Happiness; therefore Death was what he courted; dispair having render'd it both his Interest and Inclination. He was about to have proceeded in this kind of Discourse, but that I interrupted him under Pretence of leaving him to his Repose; for I perceiv'd to what his Words tended, and was loth to hear him profess himself my Lover, who had just depriv'd me of my Father. The Obligation I had to him in preserving my Honour, at the Hazard of his Life, was too great to use him ill, and the unhappy Circumstances which accompanied this Obligation were such that I could not use him well. These Considerations made me take Leave of him; and as I turned to go out, I found a Picture fallen out of his Pocket, which I intended to restore to him next Morning; but instead of the Beauties of some fair Lady, which I expected, it prov'd to be his own Portraiture, which I have ever since preserv'd with great Veneration.

Imagine, Gentlemen, in what Anxiety of Mind I pass'd this Night, in Consideration how the Senate, and all the World, would construe my being as it were in the Hands of a Stranger, and one who had so lately kill'd my Father. O Clarinthia! Clarinthia! said I to my self, what difficult Paths has Fortune mark'd out for thy Virtue to trace? How can I ever declare to the Senate what detestable Crime caused my Father's Death? Or if I do, perhaps I shall not be believ'd: If I do not, I expose my self, and this noble Stranger, to the Fury of the Laws, and his Honour to everlasting Infamy. I am in a Labyrinth so intricate, that even the Line of Reason is not able to conduct me through its wild Mazes. On every Hand I see nothing but Danger and Distress, such as confound my Resolution, and non−plus my Courage. On this Side a rapid Stream of persecuting Laws, on that, a Precipice of perpetual Shame; one to ingulph, the other to dash my Honour in a thousand Pieces. Ah, Clarinthia! Unfortunate Maid! To what serves thy Riches and Noble Brith, (the two most excellent Ingredients towards a happy Life) but to augment thy Misfortunes, by rendering thee the more conspicuous Object of Contempt? Nay, even Virtue it self, that constant Companion of my Life, conspires against me, and betrays my Youth to these Dilemma's: I say, even Virtue and Innocence (which inrich the Poor, comfort the Disconsolate, and lessen the Terrors of Death) are my Persecutors; for it is thro' their Means that I am reduc'd to these Exigencies; that whether the Senate condemn or acquit me, give me Life or Death, Imprisonment or Liberty, all is Shame, Horror, and Infamy. Nor was my Concern less in Behalf of the Stranger, which I then thought was out of a Principle of Gratitude or Generosity; but I have found since, that it was Love which subtily enter'd my Soul in that Disguise. In these Disquiets and a thousand others, I wore away the Night, my Eyes without Sleep, and my Heart without Repose. Early in the Morning I went into the Wood a few Steps, thinking to find certain Herbs to apply to the Stranger's Wound. Here I met three or four armed Men, who immediately took me away, and carry'd me with great Speed through the Forest. Long it was not, e'er I knew them to be Valerius and his Servants, who reproached me with much Bitterness, as being a Shame to my Sex, and a Dishonour to my noble Race for running away, and abiding in secret with a Stranger; and not only so, but impious beyond parallel, in causing my Father's Death rather than return to him and my Obedience, when he endeavour'd to take me out of the Hands of this my wicked Co−partner. By all this Discourse, I found Valerius was misinform'd, and had a wrong Notion of what had pass'd. This gave me Occasion to reflect how subject we are to be deceiv'd by Appearances, and what great Precaution we ought to use before we believe, censure, or condemn Things, by the exterior or first Sight; whereas the other Side of the Curtain often shews a quite different Scene. I am sure this Transaction shall ever be a Warning to me, how I condemn any Body's Actions with Precipitation; for, to speak impartially, this Passage had so much the Face of what they represented it to be, that I wonder not that Valerius was wholly possess'd with a Belief that this Stranger was the Person my Father had long suspected to have Possession of my tenderest Thoughts, and oblig'd me to oppose his Commands touching the Marriage of Valerius; and that now being fled away with him, chose rather to see my Father die by his Hands, than to return to his Jurisdiction, and my filial Obedience. In vain I strove to disabuse him, he being so wholly pre−possess'd, that all I could say seem'd to come from a Mouth false and biass'd by Crimes, or at least unworthy Intrigues. He told me, if he had not had a Passion for me, that carry'd him beyond the usual Pitch of Lovers, so as to make him sacrifice all Interest to his Affection, he would not have hazarded his Honour, by thus engaging himself in my Protection, but have left me to the Rigour of the Laws, and in the mean Time have secur'd himself of my Estate, by the Interest he could have made in the Senate. But the perfect Love I have for your Person, (continued he) which belongs to me by Right of your Father's Donation, makes me overlook all Advantage on my own Part, and regard only your Security, which I shall provide for with my Mother in her Castle in Sicily . This was a hard Stroke of Fortune; to be oblig'd to, and under the Dominion of, that Woman, whose leud Life with my Father had made me to detest, and withal to be in the Power of Valerius,whose Love I dreaded more than the Danger of the Laws, or the Anger of the Senate.

Thus I was conveigh'd to the Sea−Coast, where we immediately embark'd, and in few Hours arriv'd in Sicily, at the aforesaid Castle, where I was confin'd to an Apartment very richly furnish'd, and pleasantly situated, yet still it was a Prison, and that Thought render'd all Things disagreeable. They pretended to me, this Restraint proceeded from Kindness, that none of the Family might discover me, but that I might remain conceal'd 'till Time and Industry could accommodate my Affairs with the Senate; all which had the Appearance of Friendship; but whether it was a real Face, or only a Mask, I could not tell. Here I remain'd without the Sight of any Body, but Valerius, Asbella his Mother, and Cordiala, who was a young Maid that waited on Asbella. Pardon me, Gentlemen, if I enlarge a little on this young Creature's Character; for she is one of the most accomplish'd Pieces of Nature's Handy−work, not only in her outward Form, but her Mind is so replenish'd with Virtue and Wisdom, as shews the exterior to be only the well−made Case of a precious Jewel. Her Looks and Words were equally engaging, close−knit Sense in fine−turn'd Language, which pleas'd not only the outward Senses, but the most inward Part of the Mind, and made the Understanding dance to the Musick of such a charming Consert; that her Conversation often supplanted my Griefs, and made them give Way to some Sort of Satisfaction; especially when she represented the great Honour that attended patient suffering for the Sake of Virtue. She was so eloquent on that Subject, as made me sometimes almost in Love with Misfortunes, and find a secret Satisfaction in being cast into such a Field of Disasters, where so plentiful an Harvest of Glory was to be reap'd, by humble and Patient Submission to the Will of Heaven. These Morals coming from a Mouth so very young, and so properly adapted to my Circumstances, made me ready to perswade my self, that the Gods had sent my Good Genius in that Figure, to beguile my Sufferings, and support my Virtue. Nor was the low State in which the Gods had placed this excellent Creature, less instructive; for it excited me in this my Solitude, to admire the inscrutable Providence of the Powers Divine, who distribute their Benefits diversly; to some the Gifts of Nature, to others those of Fortune; to this Body Riches, to that Honours; here Wisdom, and there Virtue; by which Means Hunan−kind becomes united, that every one having some Quality esteemable, recommends him to the Assistance of others; for none being perfect, none can remain independant; but the mutual necessities we have of each other's Assistance, causes reciprocal Obligations, which tyes fast the Knot of human Society. But alas! how came I to launch into this Ocean of Reflections, distant from the Coast of my Relation, for which I beg your Pardon.

I cannot but own (continued Clarinthia) they treated me with as much Civility and Respect as I cou'd hope for, in these my hard Circumstances; only Valerius continually persecuted me with his Courtship and Presents; all which I refus'd with equal Aversion, as being inconsistent with Virtue, by Reason of our Consanguinity; otherwise his Addresses were honourable, and his Person agreeable. Nor wanted he Reasons to alledge, nor Examples to produce, that might justify the Legality of his Pretensions; as indeed, there are but too many Examples of that Kind amongst the Gods and Heroes. Even the present King and Queen of Egypt live in that State which our Laws call Incest. How the Men of the Robe disguise, alter, and transform, what they say is the Law of the Gods, I know not; but we often find they make Vice and Virtue to differ according to Time, Place, and Person; and make that a Crime in one Person, which is none in another; and that a Virtue in one Place, which is a Vice in another. These serve to distract the Ignorant, amuse the Curious and Speculative, and is an inexhaustible Source of everlasting Disputes. Wherefore I avoided these Casuistical By−ways, and kept to the open common Road of Virtue, taught me by my Mother, which oblig'd me to oppose the Love of Valerius as incestuous, and contrary to the present known Laws of our Country. But Valerius gave another Interpretation to this my Reluctance, and believed my Aversion proceeded from a pre−existing Passion for that Stranger I had left at the Hermitage; and once, upon occasion of some earnest Words which pass'd between us, he indiscreetly let fall some dubious Sayings, as if he thought the Stranger had possess'd my Person as well as my Affections. This gave me so great a Shock, and so irritated my Anger and Indignation against him, that after severe Words on that Subject, I begg'd him, for the Love he pretended to me as his Mistress, for the Friendship he ought to have for me as his Sister, for the Respect he ow'd me as the Daughter of Turpius, that he would leave me, and never see me more. This I utter'd with much Passion and Vehemency, together with so many Tears, that Valerius cou'd not refrain from weeping also, and without saying much, left me to my Chagrine. After this, Valerius fell into a Melancholy, which impair'd his Health, for which I was truly sorry, but knew no Remedy. The fraternal Love I bore him, made the Diminution of his Health an Augmentation to my Misfortunes; and the Weight of my Sufferings were made heavier by the Part I took in his. In fine, I was absorp'd in Sorrow, and loaden with Afflictions, without Prospect of Alleviation, except what I receiv'd from the poor Cordiala, whose discreet Words often calm'd my Passion; they were as Balm to a Mind enflam'd with Sorrow, and when those salutary Remedies fail'd, she try'd to charm me with the Musick of her Voice or Instrument, for in both these she was perfect, even to Admiration. Divers Times Valerius let me know by her the Greatness of his Griefs, in being depriv'd of my Presence, alledging, that as this Deprivation lost him the Heaven of his Happiness, so the Regret he had for having been himself the Cause, was to him a Hell of Misery. He testify'd a real Sorrow for those his rash Words, and sued for Pardon with unfeigned Submission; all which serv'd but to encrease my Burthen, already too weighty for my weak Constitution; it being inconsistent with Virtue to make him happy, yet fraternal Love made me a Sharer in his Misfortunes. But beside these Considerations, I must own (with Blushes) that my tender Thoughts were too far engag'd with the noble Stranger, the generous Defender of my Honour, to think of any other Object of Affection; not but that I endeavour'd to stifle and suppress these foolish Fancies, as Rebels to my Reason, and Enemies to my Repose. I placed him in the Tribunal of my Judgment, as the Author of my Father's Death, which render'd him unfit ever to be my Husband, almost to an impossibility, if his Quality, Inclinations, and all other Circumstances were correspondent, of which I was wholly ignorant, except those few dubious Words of Gallantry at the Hermit's Cell, which ought to pass in Oblivion, as common Words of course; and wou'd have done so with me, if fantastick Folly had not kept them alive in my Memory. I was in perpetual Fear of his being taken and prosecuted by the Agents of Valerius, as my Father's Murtherer, and my Ravisher. Thus was my Person confin'd, but my Griefs enlarg'd; I had lost my Father, and was believ'd to be his Murtherer; I had follow'd Virtue on all Occasions, and was suppos'd to be a great Criminal; I was born an Heiress of a noble Family, and inherited nothing but a Prison. In these, and the like sorrowful Reflections, I pass'd my Days without Repose, and my Nights without Slumbers. Being one Night in these doleful Thoughts, I saw, by the Light of the Moon, a Person enter my Chamber, at whose Approach I knew to be Cordiala, who, after having apologized for coming at an Hour so unexpected, she told me the Occasion; which was to inform me of what had been projected against mine Innocence and Quiet, and was to be executed that coming Day. She had overheard her Lady and Valerius discoursing that Evening about me; Asbella blam'd her Son for suffering any Disquiet in his Mind for a Person he had in his Power. Your Softness (said she) makes me almost asham'd to own you for my Son; rouze up your Resolution, and act as becomes your Sex and Quality, and not languish under the Effects of I know not what Fears and Fancies of a rigorous Beauty. Shake off, I say, this unpardonable Cowardice, and be a happy Conqueror over this your fair Enemy. But Valerius seem'd to abominate any Thing of Force, and told his Mother, he was no less a Votary to my Virtue than my Beauty, both to him were sacred. I perceive, said Asbella, that Love is not only blind, but void of all Manner of Sense, otherwise, you cou'd not speak of her as a Person of Virtue, who is a Criminal of so deep a Dye. One, not only disobedient to her Father, but his Murtherer; an ungrateful Sorceress, who bewitches you with her Beauty, and then abandons you to Despair by her Scorn and Ingratitude. She neither considers you as her Brother, Lover, nor Benefactor; the latter of which you have sufficiently prov'd your self to be, in undertaking her Protection, when her Crimes had reduced her to a perfect Exigence; but she, transported with an irregular Affection, is not capable to consider her own Interest, which is bound up in your Kindness, and Constancy. Now, since Passion has so far the Regency of her Intellect, that she is uncapable of judging what is good for her, you must be so much her Friend, as to make her happy against her Will, for there is no medium for her, between becoming your Wife, and falling into Shame, Punishment, and Misery of all Kinds; therefore, out of Compassion to her, (the Thing you so much dote upon) you must espouse her, without considering whether she be willing or unwilling, pleas'd or displeas'd; for your Life and her Honour both depend upon this Enterprize. Fear not, for I will find a Priest shall be subservient to my Request; therefore resolve to make to Morrow a happy Day to your self and this your cruel Fair, by espousing her lawfully, according as her Father design'd. Valerius, though a little Opposite at first, yet, upon his Mother's pressing, and repeating how far my Happiness was the Object, if not the whole End of the Undertaking, he at last consented, and this my forced Marriage was resolv'd on that coming Day. Thus was Valerius perswaded to this real Wickedness, under the Pretext of an imaginary Good; and thus, indeed, it fares too often with the most Part of Mankind; for when Interest and Inclination stand Candidates for Preference, we then trick with Virtue, and put the Cheat upon Honour; we impose upon our Understandings, and force our Judgments; nay more, we depose even Reason itself, and give Passions the Regency; and when our Minds are thus untun'd, our Actions soon joyn in the same Discord; we post−pone the Laws of the Gods, and make those of our Country ineffectual, of all which Valerius now became an Example; for he was not wicked in his Nature, but misled by the Ignis−fatuus of his Passion and Interest. But to return, Cordiala having inform'd me of this their Design, I thank'd, and hasten'd her away to prevent Suspicion. She being gone, I arose, and walk'd about my Chamber quite distracted with the Apprehension of what was to succeed; sometimes I threw myself on the Bed, sometimes on the Floor; being tir'd of all Postures; at last I went out on the Balcony which appertain'd to my Lodging, and jetted, as it were, over the Sea. Here I walk'd many Turns in the greatest Perplexity a Soul cou'd suffer. I fancy I resembled Queen Dido (as History describes her) at the Departure of her Æneas, and was as much embarras'd and distracted how to avoid my amorous Persecutor, as she cou'd be how to follow or overtake her beloved Fugitive. Thus, different Causes often produce the same Effect, as Glass, which is equally made by the Extremities of Heat and Cold. How happy did I esteem those Nymphs of Old, who, by the Pity of the Gods, were transform'd into Plants or Animals, by which they avoided the Embraces of their hated Lovers. And, indeed, Valerius was now become such to me, this Contrivance having raz'd out all those Characters of Friendship and fraternal Love, which his virtuous and generous Behaviour had engraven in my Heart before; and I now detested and abhorr'd him as the worst of Criminals. Sometimes I resolv'd to cast my self into the Deep, and so become a Sacrifice to Neptune, rather than a Victim to his incestuous Love; sometimes to force my self upon those iron Spikes on the Banisters, with a Thousand other extravagant Thoughts, which Reason, or want of Courage, render'd abortive; till, befriended by Cynthia's bright Beams, I saw in a Cleft of the Wall an old rusty Key, with which (as Fortune, or my good Genius would have it) I open'd the Iron−Gate, thro' which one descends by Steps to the Sea. At the Bottom of these Stairs there was an old Boat slightly fasten'd, into which I enter'd, and committed my self to the Mercy of that rude Element.

The Wind being favourable, I was soon driven far enough from the Coast of Sicily, with how little Appearance of Safety I leave you to imagine; but I trusted in that Divine Prouidence which had deliver'd me so far, and this bore up my Hopes against those swelling Surges, and the gaping Deep, which every Moment threaten'd to devour me; being well assur'd of the Mercy of those Gods I had serv'd to receive my immortal Part, if my Body perish'd. And here it was that I experienc'd the Doctrine of those Philosophers who affirm, that a Person truly Virtuous can never be throughly unfortunate, because he places not his Happiness on external Things, as not being always in his Power. In these Thoughts I was toss'd all that Night; when the Morning appear'd, I saw a Ship sailing that Way, to which I call d and becken'd, intreating them to take me in, which they did with much readiness, and put me into a Cabin to repose my self. Whilst I was there, I heard a complaining Voice, which said, O Divine Beauty! Where have the Gods dispos'd thee! Must I for ever wander in a gloomy Despair, without being enlightend by the Rays of thy bright Perfections? Ah me! what signifies all those Honours with which I have been adorn'd, since hard Fortune forces me from all I love; with many other Words of this Kind; by which I knew there were Persons of Quality in the World unfortunate as well as the unhappy Clarinthia. After a convenient Time of Rest, I was call'd for, to go before the Commander of the Vessel; for his Servants had inform'd him of their Adventure in finding me that Morning; wherefore he desir'd to speak with me, to know wherein he cou'd be farther serviceable to me. I being willing to inform my self into whose Hands I was fallen, ask'd the Name and Country of their Master; to which they answer'd, that he was a Roman, and his Name Lysander; of the former I was glad, but ignorant of the latter. When I enter'd into his Cabin, good Gods! with what Astonishment did I behold in him the Person of the noble Stranger I left wounded at the Hermit's Cell, at which my Transports were so great, that I sunk down with the pressure of so great a surprize. They presently apply'd their Assistance, which soon prov'd effectual to the Recovery of my Senses. The first Object that presented it self to my opening Eyes, was Lysander's Face all bath'd in Tears, making me such extravagant Protestations of his Joy and Love, as is impossible to repeat. Then kissing my Hands a thousand Times, on his Knees begg'd me to pronounce his Doom, forasmuch as it was evidence by my swooning at the Sight of him, that he was not indifferent to me; but whether he was the Object of my Inclination or Aversion was doubtful; but he fear'd the latter, having been so unfortunate as to render me fatherless. This plain Declaration put me to so great a Confusion, that I scarce knew what to reply, for I knew I ought not to receive favourably such a Declaration from a Man that had bereav'd me of my Father; and, on the other Side, Gratitude as well as Inclination forbad me to treat him harshly, who had defended my Honour, and now sav'd my Life. Alas, (said I to him) Fortune has been so unkind to me, that I can neither refuse, nor grant what you require, one being inconsistent with Gratitude, the other with Honour. Hard Fate in the Death of my Father, having put such a Bar as can never be remov'd, so as for me to become your Wife; otherwise, I would pronounce, that I neither do, or ever will love any but the brave and vertuous Lysander. Nevertheless, he was quite transported at this Assurance, and made me a thousand Protestations of his everlasting Love, in which was contain'd more Extasy and Rapture than I am able to repeat. His Looks declar'd his Thoughts, and his Words explain'd his Looks, and all together agreed in the Testimony of a sincere and virtuous Passion. Virtuous was his Mein, Words, and Actions, which was to me a greater Assurance of his Love than many Years Service, replenish'd with numerous and large Declarations, rich Presents, publick Acts of Galantry, in Honour of my Beauty, and a thousand other Arts used by the Sex to engage ours. This little Cabin in which we were, was to us the whole World. Dancing, Feasting, Theatres, Triumphs, were all here compriz'd. Our Persons were to each other all Objects agreeable to the Sight, and our Words all that cou'd charm the Hearing; our Hearts danc'd to the Musick of repeated Vows, whilst faithful Sighs sung the Chorus to every Period. What shall I say? 'Twas here we built in a few Moments the Fabrick of an everlasting Love, on the Foundation of perfect Virtue. But alas! how short is all human Happiness, especially all that appertains to me; for whilst we were in this Entertainment, his Servants came in, telling him, they apprehended a Storm was coming upon us, and desir'd his Orders. By this Time we were a good Way over the Mediterranean Sea, towards the Coast of Africa, whether he was going in search of me, concluding me escap'd thither, there to remain amongst some Friends I had at Carthage, 'till the Business of my Father's Death cou'd be accommodated with the Senate; nor had he thought to consult or command the turning of the Vessel when he found me, by reason of the 'foresaid surprizing Entertainment, which had taken up the greatest Part of the Day; and now Night coming on, and the Storm increasing, we were in great Danger, notwithstanding all the Pains and Care of the Mariners. The Storm continued all Night, and in the Morning we felt what before we fear'd, for we were forceably driven upon a Rock on the Coast of Africa; at the second Blow our Vessel began to shatter, at the third, I saw (to my everlasting Grief) the brave and virtuous Lysander (who was assisting the Mariners) toss'd off into the Sea, where he was immediately overwhelmed with the Waves. The Wind never ceas'd, beating our Vessel against the Rock, 'till it was split in a thousand Pieces. I was by the Care of Lysander's Gentleman fasten'd to a Plank, on which I was driven by the force of the Winds on the Coast of Africa, where I was taken up by Amilcar, and Hannibal his Son. All which this young Gentleman (addressing her Speech to one of the Strangers) knows better than my self, therefore to him I recommend the Continuation of my History.

The HISTORY of Ismenus, in which is contain'd the Remainder of Clarinthia's Story.

My Name, said he, is call'd Ismenus, but of what Country or Family I know not; I suppose a Roman, though I never knew any other Being, or State of Life, but that of Slave to Hannibal. Here I enjoy'd as much Happiness by the Favour of Hannibal, and his Father, as cou'd be hop'd for in Servitude, for I was on the same footing with his Pages, which were Free men, and with them learn'd all Sorts of Exercises and Accomplishments, in which I made so good a Proficiency, that Amilcar and Hannibal wou'd sometimes say, there appear'd in me a true RomanGenius, which was saying, in one Word, all that cou'd be said on that Subject, the Romans bearing the Prize of Renown from the whole Universe; not but that the Africans are endeavouring, and do daily improve in Arts and Arms, especially their Chiefs, amongst whom Hannibal (young as he is) wears the Character of a complete Person; he is in his Nature Courteous and Civil, and in all his Actions Just and Generous; which, indeed, are the Bases on which a great Man ought to build his Glory. Whensoever Hannibal has occasion to Reward or Punish, he does it in such a Manner, as shews the one to proceed from Inclination, the other from Necessity. The latter he does with such apparent Regret, that even the Criminal himself may see that his Design is to punish the Crime, and not the Person, if they were separable. And, on the other Side, he rewards with such Alacrity, or rather Eagerness, as if he desir'd to recompence both the Virtue and the Person, if they were distinct; by one he avoids making any Body his Enemy, and by the other he makes every Body his Friend; that he is one of the most popular and best belov'd of all the Carthagenian Nobility. As his Birth has plac'd him in an exalted Sphere, so his personal Worth shines there with such Lustre, as from thence they calculate coming Glories to their Country: But it is not my Business to dwell upon his Character, therefore return.

In the Summer he was with his Father Amilcar, retir'd from the Noise and Hurry of Business. which fills the great and populous City of Carthage, into the Country, to divert themselves with Rural Recreations; where, walking out one Morning by the Sea−Coast, they found there this beautious Person Clarinthia, fasten'd on a Plank, (as she told you) and driven to the Shoar, almost dead, but by their Industry was recover'd to Life, and in due Time to perfect Health. Amilcar finding her beautiful, and a Person of Address, gave her to his Daughter Emelia. Here she behav'd herself with such a graceful Affability, that she soon gain'd the Love and Esteem of every Body. I dare not enlarge on her Character, lest I offend her Modesty, and encroach on your Judgments, who now behold her before you. But as she was agreeable to all, so in particular to Emelia, her Mistress, who had so much Consideration for her, that she treated her more like a Friend than a Servant; in which she gratify'd not only her compassionate Inclination, but gave herself a sensible Pleasure in the Sweetness of Clarinthia's Conversation. This Treatment from Emelia, and the Death of her much lamented Lysander, join'd with her fatal Circumstances in Italy, made her resolve to pass her Days in that unknown Condition, without ever thinking on a Return into her native Country, and for that Reason conceal'd her Name and Quality; of all which she was pleas'd to make me the only Confident, and so I became acquainted with her past and present Afflictions; amongst which nothing was so touching as the Lamentations she made for her Lysander; and for his sake made firm Resolutions of perpetual Virginity. Now altho' she was thus incircled with Griefs and Misfortunes, her Beauties were not thereby obscur'd but, like the Sun behind a transparent Cloud, was more conspicuous to the Beholders, especially to the View of Hannibal, whose young Heart having never yet been touch'd with any amorous Inclination, soon became sensible of Clarinthia's Charms; and accordingly made his Addresses to her with that Sincerity and Respect, which her Beauty and graceful Mein always commanded, notwithstanding her Misfortunes, which generally humble and abase a noble Behaviour. But she retain'd still such an Air of Greatness, tho mix'd with her 'foresaid Courtesy, as render'd all Access of that Kind very difficult, and denoted in her something extraordinary. Nevertheless, this Coldness serv'd only to fan Hannibal's Flame, and by Way of Antepiristasis (as the Philosophers term it) increas'd the Ardour of that Fire already inextinguishable. Now tho' Clarinthia carefully avoided all Occasions of his Courtship, yet her Devoirs engaging her continually to Emilia's Apartment, (where, as a Brother, he had free Access) subjected Clarinthia to divers little amorous Rencounters, which no Care or Foresight could prevent.

This Proceeding began to break her Measures, and check her Resolution of remaining there, and made her divers Times cast in her Thoughts how to compass an Escape. Sometimes she resolv'd to send to the Senate to purchase her Freedom; but then again, considering the great Possessions they enjoy'd by her Captivity, she too well knew their avaricious Inclinations to hope for their Assistance. Another while, she resolv'd to discover herself to Emelia; and so obtain Amilcar's Counsel and Protection; but then again she concluded, the making her Quality known, would open an Inlet to Hanibal's Love, and by his Father's Consent bring upon herself a Marriage contrary to her firm Resolution taken to consecrate her Affections, and, indeed, her whole Life, to the Memory of Lysander . These Considerations gave her much Inquietude, which she communicated to me, when any favourable Moment furnish'd us with Opportunity.

Whilst Clarinthia was thus embarass'd with the Love of Hannibal, I was happy in that of Emelia, the several Circumstances of which would be too arrogant for me to repeat; nor, indeed, would it be necessary, all the World knowing the Africans Inclinations towards the Europeans; for they not only prefer our Complections, but also our Features, Shape, Mein, and Humour, as being naturally more soft, easy and genteel than those of that Country. Whatever it was I know not, but had the good Fortune to be lik'd by Emelia, and we lov'd, tho' at the Hazard of our Lives; so I need not tell you with what Care we kept this Affection secret, no Mortal having the least Thought or Knowledge of it, except Clarinthia, whom Emelia made her Confident.

Long we did not remain in this State; for the cold Reception Clarinthia gave to Hannibal's Address, made him begin to think her frequent Correspondence with me had some other Original than that of Friendship, not knowing how far his Sister's Affections gave Occasion to such Intercourse. Nor do I believe Emelia was quite free from Suspicion, though we gave no real Cause to either. But such are the Effects of this unhappy Passion, Jealousy; it supplants Reason, and sows in our Minds a thousand Follies; by it we demean the Person we love through unworthy Suspicions, and honour our hated Rival in supposing him preferable to our selves; and, in so doing, often do Injustice to our own Merit, which, perhaps, deserves the Preheminence. The jealous Man may be compar'd to those we read of condemn'd to certain Punishments in Hell; he labours at Ixion's Wheel, by turning from Fancy to Fancy, from Suspicion to Suspicion, and his own Thoughts are mere Vultures to devour the Heart of his Happiness; in fine, this Passion is the Green Sickness of the Mind, making us swallow Notions pernicious to our Quiet: Some say, it is the Child of Love, if so, it is a cruel Offspring, which commonly devours its Parent in the End, and then becomes it self transform'd into Rage or Regret. Yet ridiculous and extravagant as it is, the Noble Hannibal could not defend himself from its Incroachments; but, as aforesaid, was jealous of me his poor Vassal, whom he might have crush'd with a Look, and with a Word reduc'd to nothing.

Whilst Things were on this footing, a certain Nobleman of Carthage, Gundibund by Name, made his Addresses to Amilcar, in order to marry his Daughter Emelia. His Riches and Honours were too considerable to be refus'd by Amilcar, tho' his Years render'd him disagreeable to Emelia's Youth. However, being order'd by her Father to receive his Love, and dispose her self for a speedy Marriage, she durst not disobey. The Truth is, I flatter'd my self that the Command was the more displeasing to her, in Consideration of those kind Thoughts she had conceiv'd towards me. I am sure, it was to me the greatest of Afflictions; tho' in Reality, the whole Affair of our Love was a meer Chimera, a Machine of Folly, wherein to weave our own Ruin. For what could we ever hope for but Death and Destruction, if it ever came to be known? And Love is too violent a Flame to remain long conceal'd. In vain it was for me to count upon a Right to her Person, because she had given me her Affections; for in my low Station I could not assert this Right without exposing her Life to her Father's Anger, and her Honour to everlasting Infamy. But Heaven deliver'd me out of these Difficulties, by a Means least expected. Emilia having her Thoughts much incumber'd, as well as my self, order'd me to come to her Apartment one Evening late, where I had ready Access, as being her Brother's Page. Here I found her alone with Tapers burning by her, which gave a Lustre to all the bright Ornaments of the Room; but her own Beauties were such as quite dazl'd the Eyes and Senses of me the fond Spectator. Then kneeling, and kissing her Hands with excessive Transport, I told her, if her Courage would support her to accomplish what her Goodness had begun, and by a secret Flight with me into Europe, make me for ever happy, eternal Blessings would attend the Enterprize.

What you propose, said Emelia, is impossible to accomplish; you know how Great a Prince my Father is, and what absolute Authority our Laws give such over Children and Servants, that the least Attempt of that Kind would cost us both our Lives; yet what is it I would not do for my lovely Boy? Even now I risque what ought to be more dear to me than Life, mine Honour; yet a Goddess would do the same for such an European Youth as is my dear Ismenus. Then be not surpriz'd that I tell you, tho' I am to be marry'd to Gundibund, Ismenus shall be my Husband in effect; then you shall be as happy as Love can make you. These Words were so amazing, and so contradictory to that Virtue I so much value in the Sex, that they quite chang'd the Bias of my Thoughts; and all the Affliction I had before, in Consideration of loosing her I lov'd, now vanish'd; and she whom before I ador'd I now disesteem'd; nay, my Soul was seiz'd with such a secret Disgust, that all her Charms had not the Power to fix one tender Thought in me towards her, so as to make her grateful to my Senses. In short, I told her, that since I could not hope to enjoy her wholly and for ever, I must despair of being made happy by Love, and so I left her Apartment. How she resented this my Indifference, or rather Scorn, I know not, but I suppose with great indignation.

Next Morning early she walk'd into the Garden, and entering an Arbour she found Clarinthia, with the Picture of Lysander in her Hand, which she kiss'd and bedew'd with her Tears so passionately, that she did not see Emeliawhen she came into the Arbour. The Sight of this Picture blew up the Fire of Jealousy in Emelia; for she believ'd it to be my Portraiture, and, indeed, every Body that saw it said it resembled me: This, with my cold Behaviour to her over Night, put her into a perfect Fury, which she demonstrated by all the opprobrious Speeches her Anger could suggest, unbefitting her Sex and Quality.

I being thoughtful of what had pass'd the preceding Night, concluded that Emelia's Displeasure and Hannibal'sJealousy would not permit me to live there long in Security, much less in Repose; wherefore I went into the Garden where Clarinthia frequented, with Intent to advise with her about making our Escape, if possible. It was my Fate to enter the Arbour just as Emelia was in her Fury; and in few Moments Hannibal came also, whether excited by Love, as knowing that to be the Place where Clarinthia frequently retir'd; or by Jealousy, as knowing me to be gone thither, is not certain; but so it was, just as Emelia was in the Heat of her Choler, Hannibal entered, and was soon made to understand the Cause of his Sister's Anger, and seeing the Picture concluded it to be mine; wherefore drawing his Sword, said Insolent Slave, since Clarinthia honours thee with her Love, thou shalt have the Honour to die by my Hand. If, said I, Clarinthia honours me with her Love, I am bound for her sake to defend my Life; so drawing my Sword, we made several Passes at each other, 'till both fell wounded, Hannibal in the Body, and I in the Arm. The Cries of Emelia and Clarinthia brought many of the Family thither, who finding us in this Posture, took us away, Hannibal to his Bed, and me to Prison. Here Care was taken for the Cure of my Wound, to make me suffer the more condign Punishment, and be made a publick Example; as, indeed, I think I partly deserv'd, in forgetting my Duty so far as to lift up my Hand against my Master and Benefactor: However, the Suddenness of the Occasion, join'd with the Law of Nature, which commands Self−Defence, I hope will plead my Excuse, in some Degree, in the Minds of moderate and judicious Persons.

As soon as my Arm was well, Amilcar condemn'd me to be devour'd by wild Beasts, as the proper Punishment of a Crime so brutal; though, as I have heard, Hannibal interceded for me earnestly, but could not obtain my Pardon. The Day of my Execution being come, I had a Sword given me to defend my Life as long as I could, the better to divert the Spectators, which I used so well, that I quickly dispatch'd one of my salvage Combatants. The other that had been more used to those Kind of Attacks came not upon me with open Jaws, as did the other, but with many subtle Turnings, endeavour'd to catch hold of my Sword with his Paws, and so to wrest it out of my Hands; but I proving too nimble for him in his Turnings, leap'd on his Back, caught hold on his Beard, and so forc'd my Sword through his Throat. Thus was I deliver'd from both my fierce Enemies. But this serv'd only to enrage Amilcaragainst me; wherefore he again return'd me to Prison, where I lay some Days, expecting my Doom. In the mean Time Hannibal and Emelia interceded with their Father on my behalf, nor was Gundebund silent on this Occasion; but Amilcar could not be mov'd, it being counted a Crime so enormous, that to Pardon it was to affront Justice, and shock the Fundamental Laws of the Country; wherefore all the Favour they could obtain for me was, that my Death should not be quite so brutal, tho' altogether as cruel, that is, by the Hands of Men, to wit,Gladiators; (for they have that bloody Diversion among them) so I was to make a Part in those Spectacles, which were to divert the World at Emelia's Marriage, which was to succeed very soon. But Emelia being truly concern'd for me, came one Night into the Prison, with a Number of her Servants; whether she had Leave from her Father, or had gain'd the Keeper with Bribes, I know not; but she brought with her a Disguise, in which I dress'd my self, and so went out with her as one of her Maids. She bade me escape for my Life, and never think on her more. The Moon shining bright, I got to the great Forest which runs so many Leagues along the Sea−Coast. As I here wander'd, endeavouring to direct my Steps towards the Sea, I found the Mouth of a Cave, which, without much Difficulty, I open'd, and entering in, I found a pretty large Cavity, enlighten'd by a Lamp, which made me conclude it to be the Habitation of some human Creature, but ignorant whether of some lewd Outlaw, or some holy Anchorite, or Priest of Pan or Diana, who, renouncing the World, and all human Happiness, live in such Retreats, in Contemplation of that Divinity to which they are devoted. But which soever of them it might be, I could propose no great Hopes of Assistance from either; therefore was doubtful to make any farther Progress in that unfrequented Recess. Yet the Danger of the wild Beasts abroad made me willing to remain there 'till Morning, at which Time they are ordinarily retir'd to their Dens. In fine, I pray'd my good Genius to direct me, and humbly supplicated the Goddess Diana (by whose bright Beams my Steps had been directed thither) to inspire me. I begg'd her Protection who was the Patroness of Chastity, which Virtue had been the original Cause of my Sufferings. After having thus recommended my self to the Powers Divine, I resolv'd to proceed: But going on, I found the Cavity grow narrow and dark, that I moved my Steps with Horror as well as Care. At last the Cave turning, I saw at a Distance another Lamp, which gave a small dim Light; yet by it I perceiv'd, at the farthest End of the Cave, a Person lying upon a Bed of Moss, Rushes, and such like Materials, but I could not possibly get near him; for there was a Trench or Ditch cross the Cave, too large to be stepp'd or leap'd over: I saw on the other Side a sort of Bridge, which I presum'd he plac'd to pass and repass at his Pleasure; but I could no Ways attain to have it for my Use. This Person seem'd to lie in a profound Sleep, such as they enjoy who have Innocence for their Bed, and a good Conscience for their Pillow. His Countenance seem'd amiable, and vanquish'd from my Breast all Terror and Apprehension, and brought into their Place Content, and a Desire of corresponding with him, but could not find in my Heart to make any Noise whereby to awake him: But viewing him, and his disconsolate Apartment, I perceiv'd the Walls garnish'd in an odd Manner, with divers Sorts of Cyphers, Emblems, and Devices; some made of different Shells, others of Moss, Bark of Trees, Seeds, and the like; but all of them, of whatsoever they were made, had one certain Name over or under, or round about them; which I concluded was the Name of the Goddess he ador'd, or the Mistress he lov'd. The Name was Scipiana, writ in Roman Characters. In some Places there was a flaming Heart crown'd with that Name, here a broken Heart, there a chain'd Heart; in this Place Knots and Devices, in that the Emblems of Death and Despair; but all of what Kind soever, was still Scipiana, which was, for the most Part, made of Clay, roll'd into a certain Bigness, fit to make large Letters, plain to be read at that Distance. Casting my Eyes directly above his Head, I saw these Words:

When I but dream of her I love,
I envy not the Bless'd above,
Nor wish to be the mighty Jove.

Then, O! ye Gods, her Vision show,
Since that is all you can bestow,
And all that Hope has left me now.

Ey these Verses, Emblems, and Mottoes, I began to conclude, the Inhabitant I there saw, to be some desparate unfortunate Lover, and therefore a fit Companion of my Misfortunes. As I stood looking on him with no small Astonishment, I perceiv'd his Lips mov'd, with a pleas'd Countenance, as if he were dreaming on the Object of his Tenderness, as in reality he was: For he thought he saw his Scipiana on the other Side of the Trench, endeavouring to come over to him; at which he striving to help her, awak'd; and seeing me on the other Side, in my female Habit, believ'd me, at first Sight, to be this Object of his Adoration; or, if not Scipiana her self, at least her Spirit; whereupon he made me a thousand extravagant Complements, and coming over his Bridge, cast himself at my Feet, crying, Scipiana, Scipiana, divine Beauty, incomparable Goodness, is it you in Person, or is it thy Angelick Spirit, or some other airy Apparition that comes to visit and comfort me in this my disconsolate Solitude? whatever thou art, I am sure I find my self happy in the Vision. Thus he went on, with a thousand other the like Expressions, all the while kissing my Feet and embracing my Knees with the utmost Transport; insomuch, that I had much Difficulty to undeceive him, by telling him who I was, and what Disguise I wore; beseeching him to convert his Transports into Charity, and receive me into this his solitary Retreat, and instruct me in those Rudiments of Humility and Self−Denyal which he there practis'd in Perfection. At last, by divers Turns of Discourse he came out of his amorous Delirium, and receiv'd me into his Cell, with all the Courtesy and Kindness which was possible for one distress'd Person to shew to another in such an Adventure, and treated me with such Cates as that savage Being afforded. Next Day, towards Evening, we heard a prodigious Shout of People, which oblig'd our Curiosity to go towards the Out−side of the Forest, thereby to inform our selves of the Cause of that great Noise, where we were soon made to understand the Affair, by the Sight of a Funeral Pile, on which they said Clarinthia was to be burnt; for since the guilty Ismenus was escap'd, the innocent Clarinthia was to sustain the whole Shock of Amilcar's Anger, supposing her to be an Assistant, or at least conscious of his Escape. At this Information I was so concern'd, that I was running to offer my self to the Tyrant, thereby to save her; but my Companion stopp'd me, saying, We might exercise our Courage another Way, more useful to her, or at least part with our Lives more honourably. I was very ready to take his Instructions, and so resolv'd to act as he should advise, he being a Person of greater Experience than my self. Whilst he was giving me his Documents, the beauteous Prisoner came bound, led by the Hands of Amilcar's Servants, and a great Rabble of Spectators following. Then it was we rush'd in amongst 'em, crying, A Pardon, A Pardon; by which Means the People made Way for us, till we got to those who handed this fair Victim. The first my noble Companion dispatch'd, whose Sword I took, and therewith assisted my Friend with such Success, that we soon kill'd, or put to Flight, those who had the Charge of her Execution, who were only some of Amilcar's Servants, the rest of this head−less Mob dispers'd themselves of Course, some running one Way, some another; few of those Barbarians knowing what we meant or would be at. For the vulgar Part of the Africans are extreamly unthoughtful and unpolish'd, without Reflection or Fore−sight, but, like Mules, follow the common Track mark'd out by their Leaders, who are the Nobility, and command their respective Districts with an absolute Authority; his Will being the Law by which he governs, having scarce any other Rule to guide either his own or others Actions by, tho' now they begin to improve; the Nobles industriously applying themselves to learn the Laws and Customs of the Romans and Egyptians, according to their respective Proximity. But not to entertain you with their Customs, which merit not your Hearing: In short, we deliver'd the beauteous Prisoner, and brought her along with us to the Forest, where we went no more to the Cave, but forc'd our selves into the thickest and most unfrequented Parts of the Wood; Night befriending us, we accomplish'd our Escape. Next Morning our generous and valiant Friend brought us to a certain Place on the Sea−shoar, where he knew the Carcass of an old Vessel lay, in a Creek between two Rocks, which was the same that had brought him thither, for he was not a Native of that Country. Into this miserable Instrument of Escape we descended, not without great Difficulty, the Rocks being stupendous and craggy. By the Help of some Poles we had provided for that Purpose, we got the Boat out of the Creek; and, having a prosperous Gale, were soon driven out into the midst of the Mediterranean. The Gods having been thus far propitious, we could not Despair, tho' otherwise there was scarce any Shadow of Safety, we being in an old Shell of a Vessel, without either Sails, Oars, or any manner of Tackling, or Food to supply our Necessities. But Clarinthia's pious Intention gave us some Encouragement, believing the Gods would not abandon so bright a Votary; for she all along told us, that having lost her Lysander, she now resolv'd to become a Vestal Nun, if, by the Favour of the Gods, she arriv'd safe into her own Country. The Gods hearing the Prayers and Vows of so much Beauty and Innocence, sent to our Assistance an Italian Ship, who charitably took us in, and, at my Request, furnish'd me with a Suit of Man's Apparel, I leaving with them my Female Accoutrements.

Thus we were brought to this Coast. Clarinthia being very much indispos'd with the Sea−Voyage, and the preceding Fatigue, desir'd to be set on Shoar the first Opportunity, which was on this Strand, where we found our selves deliver'd from violent Death, and maritime Dangers, but expos'd to the Misery of wanting every Thing; from which, by your Charity, we are at present deliver'd (addressing himself to Marrcellus) and now you see, Sir, (continued he) what unfortunate People are the Objects of your Bounty, even destitute of all Means to testify our Gratitude, but a sincere Acknowledgment. And having found you thus far our Benefactor, we have Reason to believe you to be one of those Noble Souls, who find a Satisfaction in exhibiting Benefits; therefore we may reasonably apply our selves to your Prudence and Goodness, to counsel and assist this unfortunate Lady in accomplishing her Business with the Senate, that she may speedily be establish'd in that holy Retreat her Soul longs after, amongst the Vestal Virgins. I shall always (reply'd Marcellus) be ready to assist the Distress'd, especially Persons of your Merit; but methinks the Beauty of Clarinthia ought not to be hid in those obscure Cells, but placed in such a Sphere, where it may irradiate, and enliven the Hearts of all admiring Beholders. Ah! Sir, reply'd Clarinthia, had my Lysander liv'd, I should have thought on no such Retreat; but since his Death, I ought to count those Beauties with which I am complemented, but as Comets, whose Aspects are horrible, and their Influence destructive to my Quiet; wherefore it behoves me to endeavour their Fall and Dissolution; for, besides the Death of the incomparable Lysander, my other Misfortunes render me unfit for human Society, so ought to be lopp'd off as an useless and combersom Member of the Body Politick; and since Death's kind Hand refuses me that Favour, my self shall do it, by a voluntary dying Life among those sacred Recluses. Since your Resolution is fix'd (said Marcellus) on a Design so agreeable to the Gods, it were impiety to oppose it; therefore, to fortify your Interest with the Senate, I will wait on you to my Lord Publius Scipio, whose House is near. I know the Love he has for your Ladyship, as also for the Memory of your virtuous Mother, will engage him in your Concerns, both by his Advice, and Interest in the Senate; but at present, Rest being the most necessary Accommodation, after so many great and dangerous Fatigues, we will conduct you to your Apartment.

Book III.

Having left Clarinthia and the other weary Travellers to repose themselves by the Bounty of Marcellus, I beg the Reader to accompany me through a pleasant Grove to Publius Scipio's House, where we find this venerable Lord transported with Joy at the unexpected Return of his beautiful Daughter, after having been so long given over for lost. Clelia's Happiness also was inexpressible, to have again the Company of her dear Cousin, who had been the Associate of her tender Years.

The two Ladies rising early, walk'd into the Grove, to offer their Morning Oblations to the Goddess Aurora, who had there an Altar, (as before−mention'd) after which they seated themselves in a pleasant Shade, which the Day before had been the happy Place of their Meeting; and at Clelia's Request, Scipiana relates the following History.

The History of Scipiana.

You are not Ignorant, Cousin, (said Scipiana) that the Death of my Mother, the Loss of my little Brother Scipio,and the Banishment of the noble Catullus, so afflicted my Father, that he abandon'd Rome, and retir'd to this his Country−Seat, where I remain'd with him, leading a Life somewhat particular for my Sex and Quality, for I made the Study of Philosophy, the Greek and Oriental Tongues, my Business and Diversion. How far this is suitable to our Sex I dare not pretend to determine, the Men having taken Learning for their Province, we must not touch upon its Borders without being suppos'd Usurpers. However, since it did not displease my Father, I regret not those Moments I bestow'd in its Service, but think 'em still my own, and not slipp'd with the rest of my Life's Actions into the Abyss of Time past, (which returns no more) but are always present, or at least the Product of those Moments, to wit, the good Morals I learn'd, are always at my Command. 'Tis probable, if Fortune had provided me a more publick Station, I had employ'd my Time otherwise; but in this Retirement with my Father, I cou'd not find a more agreeable Entertainment.

When my Brother return'd in Triumph from his Asian Conquest, you know then, according to the Roman Custom, I was there to meet the Triumpher amongst the other Roman Ladies. Your Brother, the Noble Fabius, in Pursuance of our Parents Desires, offer'd me his Love, with a Gallantry suitable to his Youth and Quality, which I receiv'd according to his Merit, and my Duty; knowing it to be the Will of those who had Power to dispose of us and our Fortunes. Thus we thought we had built our Amours on the safest and surest Foundation, Duty, and Conveniency; but alas! those fair Edifices are not able to resist the Storms and Hurricanes which are raised by cross Fortune, but fall with the first Shock, as will appear by the sequel of my Story.

Clodius, who, you know, makes Love to all the World, did not spare me, I suppose out of Curiosity, as knowing me to be a Country Lady, he thought to find an Entertainment particular and different from others. What was his Motive it matters not, I always let him know his Addresses were unwelcome, and his loose Humour disagreeable; nor did I scruple to own my Kindnese to Fabius, since our Marriage was so speedily to be celebrated. To which Clodius answer'd, that Fabius should never live with me, nor Clodius without me; and this he endeavour'd to make good, in attempting to assassinate Fabius in the Street the Night before our Departure from Rome . You may remember that we were to have gone together to this, my Father's House, where the Nuptials were to have been celebrated, but this Accident befalling Fabius, prevented both him and you; wherefore my Brother and I took our Journey privately, he sending his Equipage before, whilst we came with no other Attendance than his Gentleman Fidelius and my Woman Milena, besides those necessary for the Conduct of the Chariot. Our Journey the first Day was very agreeable, except the Regret we had for your Absence, and your Brother's Illness, which detain'd you both. The next Day towards Evening, going by a pleasant Wood, whose verdant Trees and flowery Banks deserv'd our Regard, and might have given us Entertainment, but that a little Weariness had laid a kind of drowsy Silence upon me, whereupon Asiaticus merrily told me, if Fabius was here I shou'd be better Company; have Patience, Sister (continued he) his Wound will not detain him long. To which I reply'd, that the Love and Honour I had for my Cousin Fabius oblig'd me to wish his speedy Recovery, but not for my own Sake, in Regard of our Marriage, which was to succeed; for I assure you (continu'd I) my Inclinations to a marry'd Life are very little. No, reply'd my Brother, your Books have spoil'd you making you prefer the Conversation of the Dead to that of the Living. But what think you, will you consent that we make these your dead Companions augment the Fireworks which will be prepar'd for the celebrating your Nuptials? Take it not ill, dear Sister (continu'd he) that I affront your Fancy touching a learned Woman, I think it as misbecoming in your Sex, as Effeminacy in ours; and a learned Lady is as ridiculous as a spinning Hercules.

Whilst we were in this Discourse by the aforesaid Wood, we heard the Cries of a Woman in Distress. Asiaticusbeing touch'd with Pity and Generosity, forced himself into the Forest to assist this distress'd Person, leaving Fidelius to wait on me. We continu'd our Journey with all convenient Speed, in order to send Fidelius after his Master, and in a little Time we arriv'd at a magnificent House, where liv'd an ancient Lady, Mother to Lucullus,and with her Jemella, her Grand child. The good Lady and Jemella were walking in the outward Court, and very kindly invited me to stay that Night; which Favour I accepted without Ceremony, in Consideration of sending Fidelius after his Master.

Here I was entertain'd by these good Ladies with all proper Civility and Respect. I slept but little, by Means of the Inquietude I had in my Thoughts for my Brother. So rising early next Morning, Jemella, to divert me, led me into the Garden, which is indeed most surprizingly beautiful. You know the Garden of Lucullus at Rome is very fine, but far short of this his Country−Seat, which is most richly adorn'd with Statues, Water−works, and all Sorts of rare Trees and Plants, rang'd in exact Order, making curious Walks, Arbors, and Recesses, most pleasant and beautiful. After a few Turns, we seated our selves and there I took the Liberty to ask Jemella how Affairs were between her and Marcellus, which I thought was no uncivil Curiosity, their Espousals being no Ways a Secret. Jemella made no Difficulty to relate to me the whole Affair; and because those Transactions may concern you (my dear Cousin) I will tell you what I can remember.

The History of Marcellus and Jemella, related by Scipiana.

In my tender Years (said Jemella) my Father and the noble Marcellus being tied in a strict Bond of Friendship, thought to strengthen and perpetuate the same, by uniting us, their only Children, in the Bonds of Marriage; which they accomplish'd, or rather began, (for ended it must never be) when we were about seven or eight Years of Age, for then we were marry'd as Minors. In this State we liv'd at Rome, 'till Time and Acquaintance with the World made us begin to have a secret Regret for being unlike the rest of our Companions, who were single, and at Liberty to direct their Affections according to the Bent of their Inclinations, of which most desirable Privilege we found our selves depriv'd, by our Parents too prudently forestalling our Choice. This Regret was follow'd by a Kind of Aversion for each other's Company, and that Person that could most wittily Pique or shock the other, was the happy Conqueror. This, I suppose, our Parents perceiv'd, which made 'em provide for our Separation; for Marcellus was sent to Athens to study among the rest of the Roman Nobility; and I was sent hither to this Country Solitude, with Design (I suppose) to prevent my Thoughts from fixing elsewhere in the Absence of Marcellus.

When we were come to those Years in which our Laws oblige us to give our final Consent or Denial, my Lord Marcellus sent for his Son, but he begg'd Leave to stay yet another Year, which my Lord his Father endeavour'd to palliate to me, by telling me it was out of a true Honour profound Respect, which he had for my and Merit, made him deny his own Happiness, thereby to render himself more worthy my Acceptance. Whatever was the Cause was to me indifferent, the Delay was very agreeable; for beside the Coldness between us, I had no Mind to engage myself so soon in a marry'd State, always counting this Time of Virginity more distinctly my own, as if snatch'd from the round Ring of Eternity; tho' I must confess I could wish to employ these Moments otherwise than in this Solitude. But thus it must be, I having no Mother, am oblig'd to be under the Jurisdiction of my Grandmother, who is a Lady of great Virtue and Wisdom, but thoroughly fix'd to this Country Abode, which is my Aversion.

Before the Year was ended, which Marcellus requir'd for the improving his Studies, the Preparations were making for the Asian Expedition, in which Scipio (your Noble Brother) was constituted General. Marcellus, who had always entertain'd a particular Esteem for Scipio, and had now, it seems, a greater Devotion to the God Mars than Cupid, begg'd his Father to defer his Marriage, and give him Leave to accompany his beloved Friend Scipio, and with him to gather at least one Branch of those Lawrels which Fortune seem'd to have planted for the Head of this her young Favourite. This pleas'd me so very much, that my Father could scarce be persuaded but that I had some secret Intrigue, which made him recommend to my Grandmother an exact Vigilance over me, even to a tiresom Constraint, nor could I obtain Permission to go to Rome, to see the Glorious Triumph of Scipio, to congratulate the Triumpher, with the other Roman Ladies; which so displeas'd me, that I made a hearty Resolution never to be marry'd to Marcellus . In this state, Madam, (said she) are my Affairs at present; I daily expect to be sent for by my Father, to give my determinating Voice before the Senate, which I resolve shall be absolutely Negative; tho', at the same Time, I count my self bound in Honour to make some religious Pretence; for to oppose the Choice of my Parents, without some very laudable Reason, is to affront their Judgments, and prefer my own; and, at the same Time, all the World will believe me to have some bye Intrigue, unless I make Devotion the Veil of this my Disobedience; tho' I protest I am so far from having any real Call or Inclination to a religious Life, that I hate all Manner of Constraint. How then shall I endure those Hardships which attend the holy Recluses? This my ill founded Vocation makes me suspect that of others, and tempts me almost to conclude that the Vestals, and Diana's numerous Train, have many of them no better Motives than my self, to wit, some worldly Inclination or Aversion, and not the pure Love of the Gods, as they piously pretend. But let what will happen, I am resolv'd to hazard any Thing rather than marry Marcellus, who has shew'd so much Indifferency for me, that he has neither come, sent, nor taken any manner of notice of me since his Return. I must confess, reply'd I (said Scipiana) that no Goodness can pardon such Negligence, and 'tis certain his Crimes deserve the capital Punishment of an absolute Refusal; nevertheless, I do not see that you are oblig'd for that Reason to sequester your self from all the Happiness of human Life; for in so doing, you punish your innocent virtuous self instead of him the Criminal. No, Madam, (continued I) let me beg you to alter that Resolution, and when you have given your Refusal legally before the Senate, desire to return hither to your Grandmother. And though the Place be remote, and by its Distance from Rome something solitary, yet, believe me, it will not be so long; for if you go not to Rome, your Beauty and Merit will bring Rome hither; for Nature makes not her Work in vain. She made your Beauty to be admir'd and belov'd, and when the World knows you are quite detach d from Marcellus, every Heart will hope for some small Place in your Favour. The Youths will come to adore your Beauty, the Beauties to enjoy the Sweetness of your Conversation, and the grave ones to honour your Virtue, and altogether make an agreeable Concourse of pleasant Company. We were in this Kind of Discourse, when Fidelius came to us, and with a sad Countenance told us, that he had found the Place of a very unlucky Rencounter, and then bursting into Tears, said, he had there found his Noble Master slain, whose Body he intended to have brought away; but whilst he run about to catch his Horse, (which was got from him) the Body was gone. At this Relation I fainted quite away. Fideliusran to the House to get some little Cordial for me; in the mean Time, Jemella, and Milena, my Woman, by rubbing, and other Endeavours, brought me to my self; when, all on the sudden, there rush'd in at the Back Gate of the Garden Clodius and his Servants, who, in spite of all our Cries and Resistance, took us away; for Clodiusbeing conscious of what he had done to Fabius, had left Rome for fear of being apprehended, and was now making his Way to Sardinia, where he had a stately Castle, and great Lordships. Being alighted at this Place, to view a curious Piece of carved Work over the Gate, he heard our Voices, and finding the Gate open, by what Accident or Negligence I know not, he rush'd in and took us away as before mention'd. We soon arriv'd on the Sea−Coast, where he had a Vessel ready, in which he imbark'd us, and for an Augmentation of our Misfortune, he put us in different Cabins, where, according to his wild amorous Humour, he made Love to us both alternatively; and here he own'd to me, that he had made that Attempt on Fabius,