Love-Letters Between a Nobleman and His Sister Part 14

Never was any thing so magnificent as this ceremony, the church was on no occasion so richly adorned; _Sylvia_ chanced to be seated near the Prince of _Mechlenburgh_, who was then in _Brussels_, and at the ceremony; sad as she was, while the soft music was playing, she discoursed to him, though she knew him not, of the business of the day: he told her, she was to see a sight, that ought to make her s.e.x less cruel; a man extremely beautiful and young, whose fortune could command almost all the pleasures of the world; yet for the love of the most amiable creature in the world, who has treated him with rigour, he abandons this youth and beauty to all the severity of rigid devotion: this relation, with a great deal he said of _Octavio_'s virtues and bravery, had like to have discovered her by putting her into a swoon; and she had much ado to support herself in her seat. I myself went among the rest to this ceremony, having, in all the time I lived in _Flanders_, never been so curious to see any such thing. The Order of St _Bernard_ is one of the neatest of them, and there is a monastery of that Order, which are obliged to be all n.o.blemen's sons; of which I have seen fifteen hundred at a time in one house, all handsome, and most of them young; their habit adds a grace to their person, for of all the Religious, that is the most becoming: long white vests of fine cloth, tied about with white silk sashes, or a cord of white silk; over this a long cloak without a cape, of the same fine white broad cloth; their hair of a pretty length, as that of our persons in _England_, and a white beaver; they have very fine apartments, fit for their quality, and above all, every one their library; they have attendance and equipage according to their rank, and have nothing of the inconveniencies and slovenliness of some of the Religious, but served in as good order as can be, and they have nothing of the monastic,--but the name, the vow of chast.i.ty, and the opportunity of gaining heaven, by the sweetest retreat in the world, fine house, excellent air, and delicate gardens, grottoes and groves.

It was this Order that _Octavio_ had chosen, as too delicate to undertake the austerity of any other; and in my opinion, it is here a man may hope to become a saint sooner than in any other, more perplexed with want, cold, and all the necessaries of life, which takes the thought too much from heaven, and afflicts it with the cares of this world, with pain and too much abstinence: and I rather think it is necessity than choice, that makes a man a _Cordelier_, that may be a _Jesuit_, or _Bernardine_, to the best of the _Holy Orders_. But, to return, it was upon a _Thursday_ this ceremony began; and, as I said, there was never any thing beheld so fine as the church that day was, and all the Fathers that officiated at the high-altar; behind which a most magnificent scene of glory was opened, with clouds most rarely and artificially set off, behind which appeared new ones more bright and dazzling, till from one degree to another, their l.u.s.tre was hardly able to be looked on; and in which sat an hundred little angels so rarely dressed, such shining robes, such charming faces, such flowing bright hair, crowned with roses of white and red, with such artificial wings, as one would have said they had borne the body up in the splendid sky; and these to soft music, turned their soft voices with such sweetness of harmony, that, for my part, I confess, I thought myself no longer on earth; and sure there is nothing gives an idea of real heaven, like a church all adorned with rare pictures, and the other ornaments of it, with whatever can charm the eyes; and music, and voices, to ravish the ear; both which inspire the soul with unresistible devotion; and I can swear for my own part, in those moments a thousand times I have wished to die; so absolutely had I forgot the world, and all its vanities, and fixed my thoughts on heaven. While this music continued, and the anthems were singing, fifty boys all in white, bearing silver censers, cast incense all round, and perfumed the place with the richest and most agreeable smells, while two hundred silver lamps were burning upon the altar, to give a greater glory to the opened scene, whilst other boys strewed flowers upon the inlaid pavement, where the gay victim was to tread; for no crowd of gazers filled the empty s.p.a.ce, but those that were spectators, were so placed, as rather served to adorn than disorder the awful ceremony, where all were silent, and as still as death; as awful, as mourners that attend the hea.r.s.e of some loved monarch: while we were thus listening, the soft music playing, and the angels singing, the whole fraternity of the Order of St _Bernard_ came in, two by two, in a very graceful order; and going up to the shining altar, whose furniture that day was embroidered with diamonds, pearls, and stones of great value, they bowed and retired to their places, into little gilded stalls, like our Knights of the Garter at _Windsor_: after them, fifty boys that sang approached in order to the altar, bowed, and divided on each side; they were dressed in white cloth of silver, with golden wings and rosy chaplets: after these the Bishop, in his pontific robes set with diamonds of great price, and his mitre richly adorned, ascended the altar, where, after a short anthem, he turned to receive the young devotee, who was just entered the church, while all eyes were fixed on him: he was led, or rather, on each side attended with two young n.o.blemen, his relations; and I never saw any thing more rich in dress, but that of _Octavio_ exceeded all imagination, for the gaiety and fineness of the work: it was white cloth of silver embroidered with gold, and b.u.t.tons of diamonds; lined with rich cloth of gold and silver flowers, his breeches of the same, trimmed with a pale pink garniture; rich linen, and a white plume in his white hat: his hair, which was long and black, was that day in the finest order that could be imagined; but, for his face and eyes, I am not able to describe the charms that adorned them; no fancy, no imagination, can paint the beauties there: he looked indeed, as if he were made for heaven; no mortal ever had such grace: he looked methought, as if the G.o.ds of love had met in council to dress him up that day for everlasting conquest; for to his usual beauties he seemed to have the addition of a thousand more; he bore new l.u.s.tre in his face and eyes, smiles on his cheeks, and dimples on his lips: he moved, he trod with n.o.bler motions, as if some supernatural influence had took a peculiar care of him: ten thousand sighs, from all sides, were sent him, as he pa.s.sed along, which, mixed with the soft music, made such a murmuring, as gentle breezes moving yielding boughs: I am a.s.sured, he won that day more hearts, without design, than ever he had gained with all his toils of love and youth before, when industry a.s.sisted him to conquer. In his approach to the altar, he made three bows; where, at the foot of it on the lower step, he kneeled, and then High-Ma.s.s began; in which were all sorts of different music, and that so excellent, that wholly ravished with what I saw and heard, I fancied myself no longer on earth, but absolutely ascended up to the regions of the sky. All I could see around me, all I heard, was ravishing and heavenly; the scene of glory, and the dazzling altar; the n.o.ble paintings, and the numerous lamps; the awfulness, the music, and the order, made me conceive myself above the stars, and I had no part of mortal thought about me. After the holy ceremony was performed, the Bishop turned and blessed him; and while an anthem was singing, _Octavio_, who was still kneeling, submitted his head to the hands of a Father, who, with a pair of scissors, cut off his delicate hair; at which a soft murmur of pity and grief filled the place: those fine locks, with which _Sylvia_ had a thousand times played, and wound the curls about her snowy fingers, she now had the dying grief, for her sake, for her infidelity, to behold sacrificed to her cruelty, and distributed among the ladies, who, at any price, would purchase a curl: after this they took off his linen, and his coat, under which he had a white satin waistcoat, and under his breeches drawers of the same. Then, the Bishop took his robes, which lay consecrated on the altar, and put them on, and invested him with the holy robe: the singing continuing to the end of the ceremony; where, after an anthem was sung (while he prostrated himself before the altar) he arose, and instead of the two n.o.blemen that attended him to the altar, two _Bernardines_ approached, and conducted him from it, to the seats of every one of the Order, whom he kissed and embraced, as they came forth to welcome him to the Society. It was with abundance of tears that every one beheld this transformation; but _Sylvia_ swooned several times during the ceremony, yet would not suffer herself to be carried out; but _Antonet_ and another young lady of the house where she lodged, that accompanied her, did what they could to conceal her from the public view. For my part, I swear I was never so affected in my life with any thing, as I was at this ceremony; nor ever found my heart so oppressed with tenderness; and was myself ready to sink where I sat, when he came near me, to be welcomed by a Father that sat next to me: after this, he was led by two of the eldest Fathers to his apartment, and left a thousand sighing hearts behind him. Had he died, there had not been half that lamentation; so foolish is the mistaken world to grieve at our happiest fortune; either when we go to heaven or retreat from this world, which has nothing in it that can really charm, without a thousand fatigues to attend it: and in this retreat, I am sure, he himself was the only person that was not infinitely concerned; who quitted the world with so modest a bravery, so entire a joy, as no young conqueror ever performed his triumphs with more.

The ceremony being ended, _Antonet_ got _Sylvia_ to her chair, concerned even to death; and she vowed afterwards she had much ado to with-hold herself from running and seizing him at the altar, and preventing his fortune and design, but that she believed _Philander_ would have resented it to the last degree, and possibly have made it fatal to both herself and _Octavio_. It was a great while before she could recover from the indisposition to which this fatal and unexpected accident had reduced her: but, as I have said, she was not of a nature to die for love; and charming and brave as _Octavio_ was, it was perhaps her interest, and the loss of his considerable fortune that gave her the greatest cause of grief. Sometimes she vainly fancied that yet her power was such, that with the expense of one visit, and some of her usual arts, which rarely fail, she had power to withdraw his thoughts from heaven, and fix them all on herself again, and to make him fly those enclosures to her more agreeable arms: but again she wisely considered, though he might be retrieved, his fortune was disposed of to holy uses, and could never be so. This last thought more prevailed upon her, and had more convincing reason in it, than all that could besides oppose her flame; for she had this wretched prudence, even in the highest flights and pa.s.sions of her love, to have a wise regard to interest; insomuch, that it is most certain, she refused to give herself up entirely even to _Philander_; him, whom one would have thought nothing but perfect love, soft irresistible love, could have compelled her to have transgressed withal, when so many reasons contradicted her pa.s.sion: how much more then ought we to believe, that interest was the greatest motive of all her after-pa.s.sions? However, this powerful motive failed not to beget in her all the pains and melancholies that the most violent of pa.s.sions could do: but _Brilliard_, who loved her to a greater degree than ever, strove all he could to divert the thoughts of a grief, for which there was no remedy; and believed, if he could get her out of _Brussels_, retired to the little town, or rather village, where he was first made happy, and where _Philander_ still believed her to be, he should again re-a.s.sume that power over her heart he had before: in this melancholy fit of hers he proposed it, urging the danger he should be in for obeying her, should _Philander_ once come to know that she was in _Brussels_; and that possibly she would not find so civil a treatment as he ought to pay her, if he should come to the knowledge of it: besides these reasons, he said, he had some of greater importance, which he must not discover till she were withdrawn from _Brussels_: but there needed not much to persuade her to retire, in the humour she then was; and with no opposition on her side, she told him, she was ready to go where he thought fit; and accordingly the next day they departed the town, and in three more arrived to the village. In all this journey _Brilliard_ never approached her but with all the respect imaginable, but withal, with abundance of silent pa.s.sion: which manner of carriage obliged _Sylvia_ very often to take notice of it, with great satisfaction and signs of favour; and as he saw her melancholy abate, he increased in sighing and lover's boldnesses: yet with all this, he could not oblige her to those returns he wished: when, after ten days' stay, _Philander_ writ to him to inquire of his health, and of _Sylvia_, to whom he sent a very kind good-natured letter, but no more of the lover, than if there had never been such a joy between them: he begged her to take care of herself, and told her, he would be with her in ten or fifteen days; and desired her to send him _Brilliard_, if he were not wholly necessary to her service; for he had urgent affairs to employ him in: so that _Brilliard_, not being able longer with any colour to defend his stay, writ him word he would wait on him in two days; which short time he wholly employed in the utmost endeavour to gain _Sylvia_'s favour; but she, whose thoughts were roving on new designs, which she thought fit to conceal from a lover, still put him off with pretended illness, and thoughtfulness on the late melancholy object and loss of _Octavio_: but a.s.sured him, as soon as she was recovered of that pressure, she would receive him with the same joy she had before, and which his person and his services merited from her; it was thus she soothed the hoping lover, who went away with all the satisfaction imaginable, bearing a letter from _Sylvia_ to _Philander_, written with all the art of flattery. _Brilliard_ was no sooner gone, but _Sylvia_, whose head ran on new adventures, resolved to try her chance; and being, whenever she pleased, of a humour very gay, she resolved upon a design, in which she could trust no body but her page, who loved his lady to the last degree of pa.s.sion, though he never durst shew it even in his looks or sighs; and yet the cunning _Sylvia_ had by chance found his flame, and would often take delight to torture the poor youth, to laugh at him: she knew he would die to serve her, and she durst trust him with the most important business of her life: she therefore the next morning sends for him to her chamber, which she often did, and told him her design; which was, in man's clothes to go back to _Brussels_, and see if they could find any adventures by the way that might be worth the journey, and divert them: she told him she would trust him with all her secrets; and he vowed fidelity. She bid him bring her a suit of those clothes she used to wear at her first arrival at _Holland_, and he looked out one very fine, and which she had worn that day she went to have been married to _Octavio_, when the _States'_ messengers took her up for a _French_ spy, a suit _Philander_ had never seen: she equips herself, and leaving in charge with _Antonet_ what to say in her absence, and telling her she was going upon a frolic to divert herself a day or two; she, accompanied by her page only, took horse and made away towards _Brussels_: you must know, that the half-way stage is a very small village, in which there is most lamentable accommodation, and may vie with any part of _Spain_ for bad inns. _Sylvia_, not used much to riding as a man, was pretty well tired by that time she got to one of those _hotels_; and, as soon as she alighted, she went to her chamber to refresh and cool herself; and while the page was gone to the kitchen to see what there was to eat, she was leaning out of the window, and looking on the pa.s.sengers that rode along, many of which took up in the same house.

Among them that alighted, there was a very handsome young gentleman, appearing of quality, attended only by his page. She considered this person a little more than the rest, and finding him so unaccompanied, had a curiosity, natural to her, to know who he was: she ran to another window that looked into the yard, a kind of balcony, and saw him alight, and look at her; and saluted her in pa.s.sing into the kitchen, seeing her look like a youth of quality: coming in, he saw her page, and asked if he belonged to that young cavalier in the gallery; the page told him he did: and being asked who he was, he told him he was a young n.o.bleman of _France_; a stranger to all those parts, and had made an escape from his tutors; and said he was of a humour never to be out of his way; all places being alike to him in those little adventures. So leaving him (with yet a greater curiosity) he ran to _Sylvia_, and told her what had pa.s.sed between the young stranger and him: while she, who was possessed with the same inquisitive humour, bid him inquire who he was; when the master of the _hotel_ coming in the interim up to usher in her supper, she inquired of him who that young stranger was; he told her, one of the greatest persons in _Flanders_; that he was nephew to the Governor, and who had a very great equipage at other times; but that now he was _incognito_, being on an intrigue: this intrigue gave _Sylvia_ new curiosity; and hoping the master would tell him again, she fell into great praises of his beauty and his mien; which for several reasons pleased the man of the inn, who departed with the good news, and told every word of it to the young cavalier: the good man having, besides the pleasing him with the grateful compliments, a farther design in the relation; for his house being very full of persons of all sorts, he had no lodgings for the Governor's nephew, unless he could recommend him to our young cavalier. The gay unknown, extremely pleased with the character he had given him by so beautiful a gentleman, and one who appeared of so much quality, being alone, and knowing he was so also, sent a _Spanish_ page, that spoke very good _French_, and had a handsome address, and quick wit, to make his compliment to the young _Monsieur_; which was to beg to be admitted to sup with him; who readily accepted the honour, as she called it; and the young Governor, whom we must call _Alonzo_, for a reason or two, immediately after entered her chamber, with an admirable address, appearing much handsomer near, than at a distance, though even then he drew _Sylvia_'s eyes with admiration on him: there were a thousand young graces in his person, sweetnesses in his face, love and fire in his eyes, and wit on his tongue: his stature was neither tall nor low, very well made and fashioned; a light-brown hair, hazel eyes, and a very soft and amorous air; about twenty years of age: he spoke very good _French_; and after the first compliments on either side were over, as on such occasions are necessary; in which on both sides were nothing but great expressions of esteem, _Sylvia_ began so very well to be pleased with the fair stranger, that she had like to have forgot the part she was to act, and have made discoveries of her s.e.x, by addressing herself with the modesty and blushes of a woman: but _Alonzo_, who had no such apprehension, though she appeared with much more beauty than he fancied ever to have seen in a man, nevertheless admired, without suspecting, and took all those signs of effeminacy to una.s.sured youth, and first address; and he was absolutely deceived in her. _Alonzo_'s supper being brought up, which was the best the bad inn afforded, they sat down, and all the supper time talked of a thousand pleasant things, and most of love and women, where both expressed abundance of gallantry for the fair s.e.x. _Alonzo_ related many short and pleasant accidents and amours he had had with women.

Though the stranger were by birth a _Spaniard_; yet, while they discoursed the gla.s.s was not idle, but went as briskly about, as if _Sylvia_ had been an absolute good fellow. _Alonzo_ drinks his and his mistress's health, and _Sylvia_ returned the civility, and so on, till three bottles were sacrificed to love and good humour; while she, at the expense of a little modesty, declared herself so much of the opinion of _Don Alonzo_, for gay inconstancy, and the blessing of variety, that he was wholly charmed with a conversation so agreeable to his own. I have heard her page say, from whom I have had a great part of the truths of her life, that he never saw _Sylvia_ in so pleasant a humour all his life before, nor seemed so well pleased, which gave him, her lover, a jealousy that perplexed him above any thing he had ever felt from love; though he durst not own it. But _Alonzo_ finding his young companion altogether so charming (and in his own way too) could not forbear very often from falling upon his neck, and kissing the fair disguised, with as hearty an ardour, as ever he did one of the other s.e.x: he told her he adored her; she was directly of his principle, all gay, inconstant, galliard and roving, and with such a gusto, he commended the joys of fickle youth, that _Sylvia_ would often say, she was then jealous of him, and envious of those who possessed him, though she knew not whom. The more she looked on him, and heard him speak, the more she fancied him: and wine that warmed her head, made her give him a thousand demonstrations of love, that warmed her heart; which he mistook for friendship, having mistaken her s.e.x. In this fit of beginning love (which is always the best) and jealousy, she bethought her to ask him on what adventure he had now been; for he being without his equipage, she believed, she said, he was upon some affair of love: he told her there was a lady, within an hour's riding of that place, of quality, and handsome, very much courted: amongst those that were of the number of her adorers, he said, was a young man of quality of _France_, who called himself _Philander_: this _Philander_ had been about eight days very happy in her favour, and had happened to boast his good fortune the next night at the Governor's table, where he dined with the Prince _Cesario_. 'I told him,' continued _Alonzo_, 'that the person he so boasted of, had so soon granted him the favour, that I believed she was of a humour to suffer none to die at her feet: but this,' said he, '_Philander_ thought an indignity to his good parts, and told me, he believed he was the only man happy in her favour, and that could be so: on this I ventured a wager, at which he coloured extremely, and the company laughed, which incensed him more; the Prince urged the wager, which was a pair of _Spanish_ horses, the best in the Court, on my side, against a discretion on his: this odds offered by me incensed him yet more; but urged to lay, we ended the dispute with the wager, the best conclusion of all controversies. He would have known what measures I would take; I refused to satisfy him in that; I only swore him upon honour, that he should not discover the wager, or the dispute to the lady. The next day I went to pay her a visit, from my aunt, the Governor's lady, and she received me with all the civility in the world. I seemed surprised at her beauty, and could talk of nothing but the adoration I had for her, and found her extremely pleased, and vain; of which feeble resistance I made so good advantage, that before we parted, being all alone, I received from her all the freedoms, that I could with any good manners be allowed the first time; she firing me with kisses, and suffering my closest embraces. Having prospered so well, I left her for that time, and two days after I made my visit again; she was a married lady, and her husband was a _Dutch_ Count, and gone to a little government he held under my uncle, so that again I found a free admittance; I told her, it was my aunt's compliment I brought before, but that now it was my own I brought, which was that of an impatient heart, that burnt with a world of fire and flame, and nonsense. In fine, so eager I was, and so pressing for something more than dull kissing, that she began to retire as fast as she advanced before, and told me, after abundance of pressing her to it, that she had set a price upon her beauty, and unless I understood how to purchase her, it was not her fault if I were not happy. At first I so little expected it had been money, that I reiterated my vows, and fancied it was the a.s.surance of my heart she meant; but she very frankly replied, "Sir, you may spare your pains, and five hundred pistoles will ease you of a great deal of trouble, and be the best argument of your love." This generous conscientious humour of hers, of suffering none to die that had five hundred pistoles to present for a cure, was very good news to me, and I found I was not at all obliged to my youth or beauty, but that a man with half a nose, or a single eye, or that stunk like an old _Spaniard_ that had dined on rotten cheese and garlic, should have been equally as welcome for the aforesaid sum, to this charming insensible. I must confess, I do not love to chaffer for my pleasure, it takes off the best part of it; and were I left to my own judgement of its worth, I should hardly have offered so sneaking a sum; but that sort of bargaining, was her humour, and to enjoy her mind, though she had strangely palled me by this management of the matter: all I had now to do, was to appoint my night, and bring my money; now was a very proper time for it, her husband being absent: I took my leave of her, infinitely well pleased to have gained my point on any terms, with a promise to deliver myself there the next night: but she told me, she had a brother to come to-morrow, whom she would not have see me, and for that reason (being however not willing to delay the receiving her pistoles) she desired I would wait at this very house 'till a footman should give me notice when to come; accordingly I came, and sent her a billet, that I waited prepared at all points; and she returned me a billet to this purpose; that her brother with some relations being arrived, as she expected, she begged for her honour's sake, that I would wait till she sent, which should be as soon as they were gone to their chambers; and they, having rid a long journey, would early retire; that she was impatient of the blessing, and should be as well prepared as himself, and that she would leave her woman _Let.i.tia_ to give me admittance.----This satisfied me very well; and as I attended her, some of my acquaintance chanced to arrive; with whom I supped, and took so many gla.s.ses to her health as it pa.s.sed down, that I was arrived at a very handsome pitch, and to say truth, was as full of _Bacchus_ as of _Venus_. However, as soon as her footman arrived, I stole away, and took horse, and by that time it was quite dark arrived at her house, where I was led in by a young maid, whose habit was very neat and clean, and she herself appeared to my eyes, then dazzling with wine, the most beautiful young creature I had ever seen, as in truth she was; she seemed all modesty, and blushing innocence; so that conducting me into a low parlour, while she went to tell her lady I was come, who lay ready dressed in all the magnificences of night-dress to receive me, I sat contemplating on this fair young maid, and no more thought of her lady than of _Bethlehem Gaber_. The maid soon returned, and curtseying, told me, with blushes on her face, that her lady expected me; the house was still as sleep, and no noise heard, but the little winds that rushed among the jessamine that grew at the window; now whether at that moment, the false light in the room, or the true wine deceived me, I know not; but I beheld this maid as an angel for beauty, and indeed I think she had all the temptations of nature. I began to kiss her, and she to tremble and blush; yet not so much out of fear, as surprise and shame at my address. I found her pleased with my vows, and melting at my kisses; I sighed in her bosom, which panted me a welcome there; that bosom whiter than snow, sweeter than the nosegay she had planted there. She urged me faintly to go to her lady, who expected me, and I swore it was for her sake I came (whom I never saw) and that I scorned all other beauties: she kindled at this, and her cheeks glowed with love. I pressed her to all I wished; but she replied, she was a maid, and should be undone. I told her, I would marry her, and swore it with a thousand oaths; she believed, and grew prettily fond----In fine, at last she yielded to all I asked of her, which we had scarce recovered when her lady rung. I could not stir, but she who feared a surprise ran to her, and told her, I was gone into the garden, and would come immediately; she hastens down again to me, fires me anew, and pleased me anew; it was thus I taught a longing maid the first lesson of sin, at the price of fifty pistoles, which I presented her; nor could I yet part from this young charmer, but stayed so long, that her lady rung a silver bell again; but my new prize was so wholly taken up with the pleasure of this new amour, and the good fortune arrived to her, she heard not the bell, so that the fair deceived put on her night-gown and slippers, and came softly down stairs, and found my new love and I closely embracing, with all the pa.s.sion and fondness imaginable. I know not what she saw in me in that kind moment to her woman, or whether the disappointment gave her a greater desire, but it is most certain she fell most desperately in love with me, and scorning to take notice of the indignity I put upon her, she unseen stole to her chamber; where, after a most afflicting night, she next morning called her woman to her (whom I left towards morning, better pleased with my fifty pistoles worth of beauty, than I should have been with that of five hundred): the maid, whose guilt made her very much una.s.sured, approached her lady with such tremblings, as she no longer doubted but she was guilty, but durst not examine her about it, lest she, who had her honour in keeping, should, by the discovery she found she had made of her levity, expose that of her lady. She therefore dissembled as well as she could, and examined her about my stay; to which the maid answered, I had fallen asleep, and it was impossible to awake me 'till day appeared; when for fear of discovery I posted away. This, though the lady knew was false, she was forced to take for current excuse; and more raging with love than ever, she immediately dispatched away her footman with a letter to me, upbraiding me extremely; but, at the same time, inviting me with all the pa.s.sion imaginable; and, because I should not again see my young mistress, who was dying in love with me, she appointed me to meet her at a little house she had, a bow-shot from her own, where was a fine decoy, and a great number of wild-fowl kept, which her husband took great delight in; there I was to wait her coming; where lived only a man and his old wife, her servants: I was very glad of this invitation, and went; she came adorned with all her charms.

I considered her a new woman, and one whom I had a wager to win upon, the conquest of one I had inclination to, till by the discovery of the jilt in her, I began to despise the beauty; however, as I said, she was new, and now perhaps easy to be brought to any terms, as indeed it happened; she caressed me with all imaginable fondness; was ready to eat my lips instead of kissing them, and much more forward than I wished, who do not love an over-easy conquest; however, she pleased me for three days together, in all which time she detained me there, coming to me early, and staying the latest hour; and I have no reason to repent my time; for besides that I have pa.s.sed it very well, she at my coming away presented me this jewel in my hat, and this ring on my finger, and I have saved my five hundred pistoles, my heart, and my credit in the encounter, and am going to _Brussels_ to triumph over the haughty conceited _Philander_, who set so great a value on his own beauty, and yet, for all his fine person, has paid the pistoles, before he could purchase the blessing, as she swore to me, who have made a convert of her, and reduced her to the thing she never yet was, a lover; insomuch, that she has promised me to renounce _Philander_: I have promised to visit her again; but if I do it will be more for the vanity to please, than to be pleased; for I never repeat any thing with pleasure.' All the while he spoke, _Sylvia_ fixed her eyes, and all her soft desires upon him; she envies the happy Countess, but much more the happy maid, with whom his perfect liking made him happy; she fancies him in her arms, and wishes him there; she is ready a thousand times to tell him she is a woman, but, when she reflects on his inconstancy, she fears. When he had ended his story, she cried, sighing, 'And you are just come from this fair lady?' He answered her, he was sound and heart whole: she replied, 'It is very well you are so, but all the young do not thus escape from beauty, and you may, some time or other, be entrapped.' 'Oh,' cried he, 'I defy the power of one, while heaven has distributed variety to all.' 'Were you never in love?' replied Sylvia. 'Never,' said he, 'that they call love: I have burnt and raved an hour or two, or so; pursued, and gazed, and laid sieges, till I had overcome; but, what is this to love? Did I ever make a second visit, unless upon necessity, or grat.i.tude? And yet----' and there he sighed; 'and yet,' said he, 'I saw a beauty once upon the _Tour_, that has ever since given me torment.' 'At _Brussels_? said _Sylvia_. 'There,' replied he; 'she was the fairest creature heaven ever made, such white and red by nature, such hair, such eyes, and such a mouth!----All youth and ravishing sweetness;--I pursued her to her lodgings, and all I could get, was, that she belonged to a young n.o.bleman, who since has taken Orders. From the night I saw her, I never left her window, but had spies of all sorts, who brought me intelligence, and a little after, I found she had quitted the place with a new lover, which made me love and rave ten times more, when I knew a.s.suredly she was a wh.o.r.e--and how fine a one I had missed.' This called all the blood to _Sylvia_'s face, and so confounded her she could not answer; she knew it was herself of whom he spoke; and that coa.r.s.e word, though innocently spoken, or rather gaily expressed, put her quite out of countenance; however, she recovered again, when she considered they were not meant as rudenesses to her. She loved him, and was easy to pardon: with such discourse they pa.s.sed the evening till towards bed-time, and the young _Spaniard_, who had taken little rest in three nights before, wanted some repose; and calling for his chamber, the host besought him, since they had the happiness (the young _French_ gentleman and himself) to be so good friends, that they would share a bed together: 'For in truth,' said he, 'sir, you must sit up all night else;' he replied, with all his soul, it was the most grateful proposal had been ever made him; and addressing himself to _Sylvia_, asked him if he would allow him that blessing: she blushed extremely at the question, and hung down her eyes, and he laughed to see it: 'Sir,' said _Sylvia_, 'I will give you my bed, for it is all one to me to lie on a bed, or on the chairs.' 'Why, sir,' said _Alonzo_, 'I am too pa.s.sionate an adorer of the female s.e.x, to incommode any of my own with addresses; nor am I so nice, but I can suffer a man to lie by me, especially so dear a youth as yourself;' at which he embraced her in his arms, which did but the more raise _Sylvia_'s blushes, who wished for what she dreaded: 'With you, sir,' said she, 'I could methinks be content to do what I do not use to do;' and, fearing to betray her s.e.x, forced a consent; for either one or the other she was compelled to do; and with the a.s.surance that he thought her what she seemed, she chose to give her consent, and they both went to bed together: to add to her deceit (she being forced in her sickness to cut off her hair) when she put off her periwig she discovered nothing of the woman; nor feared she any thing but her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, which were the roundest and the whitest in the world; but she was long in undressing, which to colour the matter, she suffered her page to do; who, poor lad, was never in so trembling a condition, as in that manner to be obliged to serve her, where she discovered so many charms he never before had seen, but all such as might be seen with modesty: by that time she came to bed, _Alonzo_ was fast asleep, being so long kept waking, and never so much as dreamt he had a woman with him; but she, whose fears kept her waking, had a thousand agitations and wishes; so natural it is, when virtue has broke the bounds of modesty, to plunge in past all retreat; and, I believe there are very few who retire after the first sin. She considers her condition in a strange country, her splendour declining, her love for _Philander_ quite reduced to friendship, or hardly that; she was young, and ate and drank well; had a world of vanity, that food of desire, that fuel to vice: she saw this the beautifullest youth she imagined ever to have seen, of quality and fortune able to serve her; all these made her rave with a desire to gain him for a lover, and she imagined as all the vain and young do, that though no charms had yet been able to hold him, she alone had those that would; her gla.s.s had a thousand times told her so; she compares him to _Octavio_, and finds him, in her opinion, handsomer; she was possessed with some love for _Philander_, when he first addressed to her, and _Octavio_ shared at best but half a heart; but now, that she had lost all for _Philander_ and _Octavio_, and had a heart to cast away, or give a new lover; it was like her money, she hated to keep it, and lavished it on any trifle, rather than h.o.a.rd it, or let it lie by: it was a loss of time her youth could not spare; she, after reflection, resolved, and when she had resolved, she believed it done. By a candle she had by her, to read a little novel she had brought, she surveyed him often, as curiously as _Psyche_ did her _Cupid_, and though he slept like a mere mortal, he appeared as charming to her eyes as the winged G.o.d himself; and it is believed she wished he would awake and find by her curiosity, her s.e.x: for this I know, she durst no longer trust herself a-bed with him, but got up, and all the last part of the night walked about the room: her page lay in the room with her, by her order, on the table, with a little valise under his head, which he carried _Sylvia_'s linen in; she awoke him, and told him all her fears, in a pleasant manner. In the morning _Alonzo_ awakes, and wonders to find her up so soon, and reproached her for the unkindness; new protestations on both sides pa.s.sing of eternal friendship, they both resolved for _Brussels_; but, lest she should encounter _Philander_ on the way, who possibly might be on visiting his _Dutch_ countess, she desired him to ride on before, and to suffer her to lose the happiness of his company, till they met in _Brussels_: with much ado he consents, and taking the ring the countess gave him, from off his finger, 'Sir,' said he, 'be pleased to wear this, and if ever you need my fortune, or my sword, send it, and in what part of the world soever I am, I will fly to your service.' _Sylvia_ returned him a little ring set round with diamonds, that Philander in his wooing time had given her, amongst a thousand of finer value: his name and hers were engraven instead of a posie in it; which was only _Philander_ and _Sylvia_, and which he took no notice of, and parted from each other in the tenderest manner, that two young gentlemen could possibly be imagined to do, though it were more than so on her side; for she was madly in love with him.

As soon as _Sylvia_ came to _Brussels_, she sent in the evening to search out _Brilliard_, for she had discovered, if he should come to the knowledge of her being in town, and she should not send to him, he would take it so very ill, that he might prevent all her designs and rambles, the now joy of her heart; she knew she could make him her slave, her pimp, her any thing, for love, and the hope of her favour, and his interest might defend her; and she should know all _Philander_'s, motions, whom now, though she loved no more, she feared. She found him, and he took her lodgings, infinitely pleased at the trust she reposed in him, the only means by which he could arrive to happiness. She continues her man's habit, and he supplied the place of _valet_, dressed her and undressed her, shifted her linen every day; nor did he take all these freedoms, without advancing a little farther upon occasion and opportunity, which was the hire she gave him, to serve her in more lucky amours; the fine she paid to live free, and at ease. She tells him her adventure, which, though it were daggers to his heart, was, however, the only way to keep her his own; for he knew her spirit was too violent to be restrained by any means.

At last, she told him her design upon a certain young man of quality, who she told him, was the same she encountered. She a.s.sured him it was not love or liking, but perfectly interest that made her design upon him, and that if he would a.s.sist her, she would be very kind to him, as a man that had gained very greatly upon her heart. This flattery she urged with infinite fondness and art, and he, overjoyed, believed every word as gospel; so that he promised her the next day to carry a billet to the young _don_: in the mean time, she caused him to sup with her, purposely to give him an account of _Philander_, _Cesario_ and _Hermione_, whom she heard was come to _Brussels_, and lived publicly with the Prince. He told her, it was very true, and that he saw them every day, nay, every moment together; for he verily believed they could not live asunder; that _Philander_ was every evening caballing there, where all the malcontents of the Reformed Religion had taken sanctuary, and where the Grand Council was every night held; for some great things were in agitation, and debating how to trouble the repose of all _France_ again with new broils; he told her, that all the world made their court to _Hermione_, that if any body had any pet.i.tions, or addresses to make to the Prince, it was by her sole interest; she sat in their closest councils, and heard their gravest debates; and she was the oracle of the board: the Prince paying her perfect adoration, while she, whose charms of youth were ended, being turned of thirty, fortified her decays with all the art her wit and s.e.x were capable of, and kept her ill.u.s.trious lover as perfectly her slave, as if she had engaged him by all those ties that fetter the most circ.u.mspect, and totally subdued him to her will, who was, without exception, the most lovely person upon earth; 'and though, madam, you know him so perfectly well, yet I must tell you my opinion of him: he is all the softer s.e.x can wish, and ours admire; he is formed for love and war; and as he is the most amorous and wanton in courts, he is also the most fierce and brave in field; his birth the most elevated, his age arrived to full blown man, adorned with all the spreading glories that charm the fair, and engage the world; and I have often heard some of our party say, his person gained him more numbers to his side, than his cause or quality; for he understood all the useful arts of popularity, the gracious smile and bow, and all those cheap favours that so gain upon hearts; and without the expense of any thing but ceremony, has made the nation mad for his interest, who never otherwise obliged them; and sure nothing is more necessary in the great, than affability; nor shews greater marks of grandeur, or shall more eternize them, than bowing to the crowd. As the maiden queen I have read of in _England_, who made herself idolized by that sole piece of politic cunning, understanding well the stubborn, yet good nature of the people; and gained more upon them by those little arts, than if she had parted with all the prerogatives of her Crown.

Ah! madam, you cannot imagine what little slights govern the whole universe, and how easy it is for monarchs to oblige. This _Cesario_ was made to know, and there is no one so poor an object, who may not have access to him, and whom he does not send away well pleased, though he do not grant what they ask. He dispatches quickly, which is a grateful virtue in great men; and none ever espoused his interest, that did not find a reward and a protection; it is true, these are all the tools he is to work with, and he stops at nothing that leads to his ambition; nor has he done all that lies in the power of man only, to set all _France_ yet in a flame, but he calls up the very devils from h.e.l.l to his aid, and there is no man famed for necromancy, to whom he does not apply himself; which, indeed, is done by the advice of _Hermione_, who is very much affected with those sort of people, and puts a great trust and confidence in them. She sent at great expense, for a _German_ conjurer, who arrived the other day, and who is perpetually consulting with another of the same sort, a _Scot_ by birth, called _Fergusano_. He was once in Holy Orders, and still is so, but all his practice is the Black Art; and excellent in it he is reported to be. _Hermione_ undertakes nothing without his advice; and as he is absolutely her creature, so his art governs her, and she the Prince: she holds her midnight conferences with him; and as she is very superst.i.tious, so she is very learned, and studies this art, taught by this great master _Fergusano_; and so far is this glorious hero bewitched with these sorcerers, that he puts his whole trust in these conjurations and charms; and so far they have imposed on him, that with an enchanted ointment, which they had prepared for him, he shall be invulnerable, though he should face the mouth of a cannon: they have, at the earnest request of _Hermione_, calculated his nativity, and find him born to be a king; and, that before twenty moons expire, he shall be crowned in _France_: and flattering his easy youth with all the vanities of ambition, they have made themselves absolutely useful to him. This _Scot_, being a most inveterate enemy to _France_, lets the Prince rest neither night nor day, but is still inspiring him with new hopes of a crown, and laying him down all the false arguments imaginable, to spur the active spirit: my lord is not of the opinion, yet seems to comply with them in Council; he laughs at all the fopperies of charms and incantations; insomuch, that he many times angers the Prince, and is in eternal little feuds with _Hermione_. The _German_ would often in these disputes say, he found by his art, that the stop to the Prince's glory would be his love.

This so incensed _Hermione_, and consequently the Prince, that they had like to have broke with him, but durst not for fear; he knowing too much to be disobliged: on the other side, _Fergusano_ is most wonderfully charmed with the wit and masculine spirit of _Hermione_, her courage, and the manliness of her mind; and understanding which way she would be served, resolved to obey her, finding she had an absolute ascendancy over the Prince, whom, by this means, he knew he should get into his sole management. _Hermione_, though she seemed to be possessed so entirely of _Cesario_'s heart, found she had great and powerful opposers, who believed the Prince lay idling in her arms, and that possibly she might eclipse his fame, by living at that rate with a woman he had no other pretensions to but love; and many other motives were urged daily to him by the admirers of his great actions: and she feared, with reason, that some time or other, ambition might get the ascendancy of love: she, therefore, in her midnight conferences with _Fergusano_, often urged him to shew her that piece of his art, to make a philtre to retain fleeting love; and not only keep a pa.s.sion alive, but even revive it from the dead. She tells him of her contract with him; she urges his forced marriage, as she was pleased to call it, in his youth; and that he being so young, she believed he might find it lawful to marry himself a second time; that possibly his Princess was for the interest of the King; and men of his elevated fortune ought not to be tied to those strictnesses of common men, but for the good of the public, sometimes act beyond the musty rules of law and equity, those politic bands to confine the _mobile_.

At this unreasonable rate she pleads her right to _Cesario_, and he hearkens with all attention, and approves so well all she says, that he resolves, not only to attach the Prince to her by all the force of the Black Art, but that of necessary marriage also: this pleased her to the last degree; and she left him, after he had promised her to bring her the philtre by the morning: for it was that she most urged, the other requiring time to argue with him, and work him by degrees to it. Accordingly, the next morning he brings her a tooth-pick-case of gold, of rare infernal workmanship, wrought with a thousand charms, of that force, that every time the Prince should touch it, and while he but wore it about him, his fondness should not only continue, but increase, and he should hate all womankind besides, at least in the way of love, and have no power to possess another woman, though she had all the attractions of nature. He tells her the Prince could never suspect so familiar a present, and for the fineness of the work, it was a present for a Prince; 'For,' said he, 'no human art could frame so rare a piece of workmanship; that nine nights the most delicate of the Infernals were mixing the metal with the most powerful of charms, and watched the critical minutes of the stars, in which to form the mystic figures, every one being a spell upon the heart, of that unerring magic, no mortal power could ever dissolve, undo, or conquer.' The only art now was in giving it, so as to oblige him never to part with it; and she, who had all the cunning of her s.e.x, undertook for that part; she dismissed her infernal confidant, and went to her _toilet_ to dress her, knowing well, that the Prince would not be long before that he came to her: she laid the tooth-pick-case down, so as he could not avoid seeing it: the Prince came immediately after in, as he ever used to do night and morning, to see her dress her; he saw this gay thing on the table, and took it in his hand, admiring the work of it, as he was the most curious person in the world: she told him, there was not a finer wrought thing in the world, and that she had a very great esteem for it, it being made by the _Sybils_; and bid him mind the antiqueness of the work: the more she commended it, the more he liked it, and told her, she must let him call it his: she told him, he would give it away to the next commender: he vowed he would not: she told him then he should not only call it his, but it should in reality be so; and he vowed it should be the last thing he would part with in the world. From that time forward she found, or thought she found, a more impatient fondness in him than she had seen before: however it was, she ruled and governed him as she pleased; and indeed never was so great a slave to beauty, as, in my opinion, he was to none at all; for she is far from having any natural charms; yet it was not long since it was absolutely believed by all, that he had been resolved to give himself wholly up to her arms; to have sought no other glory, than to have retired to a corner of the world with her, and changed all his crown of laurel for those of roses: but some stirring spirits have roused him anew, and awakened ambition in him, and they are on great designs, which possibly 'ere long may make all _France_ to tremble; yet still _Hermione_ is oppressed with love, and the effects of daily increasing pa.s.sion. He has perpetual correspondence with the party in _Paris_, and advice of all things that pa.s.s; they let him know they are ready to receive him whenever he can bring a force into _France_; nor needs he any considerable number, he having already there, in every place through which he shall pa.s.s, all, or the most part of the hearts and hands at his devotion; and they want but arms, and they shall gather as they go: they desire he will land himself in some part of the kingdom, and it would be encouragement enough to all the joyful people, who will from all parts flock together. In fine, he is offered all a.s.sistance and money; and lest all the forces of _France_ should be bent against him, he has friends, of great quality and interest, that are resolved to rise in several places of the kingdom, in _Languedoc_ and _Guyenne_, whither the King must be obliged to send his forces, or a great part of them; so that all this side of _France_ will be left defenceless. I myself, madam, have some share in this great design, and possibly you will one day see me a person of a quality sufficient to merit those favours I am now blessed with.' 'Pray,' replied _Sylvia_, smiling with a little scorn, 'what part are you to play to arrive at this good fortune?' 'I am,' said he, 'trusted to provide all the ammunition and arms, and to hire a vessel to transport them to some sea-port town in _France_, which the Council shall think most proper to receive us.' _Sylvia_ laughed, and said, she prophesied another end of this high design than they imagined; but desperate fortunes must take their chance. 'What,' continued she, 'does not _Hermione_ speak of me, and inquire of me?' 'Yes,' replied _Brilliard_; 'but in such a way, as if she looked on you as a lost creature, and one of such a reputation, she would not receive a visit from for all the world.' At this _Sylvia_ laughed extremely, and cried, '_Hermione_ would be very well content to be so mean a sinner as myself, to be so young and so handsome a one. However,' said she, 'to be serious, I would be glad to know what real probability there is in advancing and succeeding in this design, for I would take my measures accordingly, and keep _Philander_, whose wavering, or rather lost fortune, is the greatest motive of my resolves to part with him, and that have made me so uneasy to him.' _Brilliard_ told her, he was very confident of the design, and that it was almost impossible to miscarry in the discontent all _France_ was in at this juncture; and they feared nothing but the Prince's relapsing, who, now, most certainly preferred love to glory. He farther told her, that as they were in Council, one deputed from the _Parisians_ arrived with new offers, and to know the last result of the Prince, whether he would espouse their interest or not, as they were with life and fortune ready to espouse his glory. 'They sent him word, it was from him they expected liberty, and him whom they looked upon as their tutelar deity. Old _Fergusano_ was then in Council, that _Highland_ wizard that manages all, and who is ever at hand to awaken mischief, alarmed the Prince to new glories, reproaching his scandalous life, withal telling him, there were measures to be taken to reconcile love and fame; and which he was to discourse to him about in his closet only; but as things were, he bid him look into the story of _Armida_ and _Renaldo_, and compare his own with it, and he doubted not, but he would return blushing at his remissness and sloth: not that he would exempt his youth from the pleasures of love, but he would not have love hinder his glory: this bold speech before _Hermione_ had like to have begot an ill understanding; but she was as much for the Prince's glory as _Fergusano_, and therefore could not be angry, when she considered the elevation of the Prince would be her own also: at this necessary reproach the Prince blushed; the board seconding the wizard, had this good effect to draw this a.s.surance from him, that they should see he was not so attached to love, but he could for some time give a cessation to his heart, and that the envoy from the _Parisians_ might return a.s.sured, that he would, as soon as he could put his affairs in good order, come to their relief, and bring arms for those that had none, with such friends as he could get together; he could not promise numbers, lest by leading so many here, their design should take air, but would wholly trust to fortune, and their good resolutions: he demanded a sum of money of them for the buying these arms, and they have promised him all aids. This is the last result of Council, which broke immediately up; and the Prince retired to his closet, where he was no sooner come, but reflecting on the necessity of leaving _Hermione_, he fell into the most profound melancholy and musing that could seize a man; while he sat thus, _Hermione_ (who had schooled _Fergusano_ for his rough speech in Council, and desired he would now take the opportunity to repair that want of respect, while the Prince was to be spoken to alone) sent him into the closet to him; where he found him walking with his arms a-cross, not minding the bard who stood gazing on him, and at last called to him; and finding no reply, he advanced, and pulling him gently by the arm, cried,--"Awake royal young man, awake! and look up to coming greatness"--"I was reflecting," replied _Cesario_, "on all the various fortunes I have pa.s.sed, from the time of my birth to this present hapless day, and would be glad to know if any supernatural means can tell me what future events will befall me? If I believed I should not gain a crown by this great enterprise I am undertaking, here I would lay me down in silent ease, give up my toils and restless soul to love, and never think on vain ambition more: ease thou my troubled mind, if thou hast any friend among the Infernals, and they dare utter truth." "My gracious Prince," replied the fawning wizard, "this night, if you dare loose yourself from love, and come unattended to my apartment, I will undertake to shew you all the future fortune you are to run, the hazards, dangers, and escapes that attend your mighty race of life; I will lay the adamantine Book before you, where all the destinies of princes are hieroglyphick'd. I will shew you more, if h.e.l.l can furnish objects, and you dare stand untrembling at the terror of them."

"Enough," replied _Cesario_, "name me the hour." "Betwixt twelve and one," said he; "for that is the sacred dismal time of night for fiends to come, tombs to open and let loose their dead.--We shall have use of both----" "No more," replied _Cesario_, "I will attend them." The Prince was going out, when _Fergusano_ recalled him, and cried, "One thing, sir, I must caution you, that from this minute to that, wherein I shall shew you your destiny, you commit nothing unlawful with women-kind." "Away," replied the Prince, smiling, "and leave your canting." The wizard, putting on a more grave countenance, replied--"By all the Infernals, sir, if you commit unlawful things I cannot serve you." "If your devils," replied the Prince, laughing, "be so nice, I doubt I shall find them too honest for my purpose." "Sir,"

said the subtle old fiend, "such conscientious devils Your Highness is to converse with to-night; and if you discover the secret, it will I not prove so lucky." "Since they are so humorous," cried _Cesario_, "I will give them way for once." And going out of the room, he went directly to _Hermione_'s apartment; where, it being late, she is preparing for bed, and with a thousand kisses, and hanging on his neck, she asked him why he is so slow, and why he suffers not himself to be undressed? He feigns a thousand excuses, at which she seems extremely amazed; she complains, reproaches, and commands----He tells her, he was to wait on the Governor about his most urgent affairs, and was (late as it was) to consult with him: she asked him what affairs he was to negotiate, of which she was not to bear her part? He refuses to tell her, and she replied she had sense and courage for any enterprise, and should resent it very ill, if she were not made acquainted with it: but he swore I to her she should know all the truth, as soon as he returned.

'This pacified her in some measure, and at the hour appointed she suffered him to go; and in a chair was carried to a little house _Fergusano_ had taken without the town, to which belonged a large garden, at the farther end of which was a thicket of unordered trees, that surrounded the grotto, which I pa.s.sed a good way under the ground. It had had some rarities of water-work formerly belonging to it, but now they were decayed; only here and there a broken rock let out a little stream, that murmured and dashed upon the earth below, and ran away in a little rivulet, which served to add a melancholy to the dismal place: into this the Prince was conducted by the old _German_, who a.s.sisted in the charm; they had only one torch to light the way, which at the entrance of the cave they put out, and within was only one glimmering lamp, that rather served to add to the horror of the vault, discovering its hollowness and ruins. At his entrance, he was saluted with a noise like the rushing of wind, which whizzed and whistled in the mighty concave. Anon a more silent whispering surrounded him, without being able to behold any creature save the old _German_. Anon came in old _Fergusano_, who rolling a great stone, that lay at one corner of the cave, he desired the Prince to place himself on it, and not be surprised at any thing he should behold, nor to stir from that enchanted ground; he, nodding, a.s.sented to obey, while _Fergusano_ and the _German_, with each a wand in their hands, struck against the unformed rocks that finished the end of the cave, muttering a thousand incantations, with voices dreadful, and motions antic; and, after a mighty stroke of thunder that shook the earth, the rude rock divided, and opened a s.p.a.ce that discovered a most magnificent apartment; in which was presented a young hero, attended with military officers; his pages dressing him for the field all in gilded armour. The Prince began to doubt himself, and to swear in his thought, that the apparition was himself, so very like he was to himself, as if he had seen his proper figure in a gla.s.s. After this, several persons seemed to address to this great man, of all sorts and conditions, from the Prince to the peasant, with whom he seemed to discourse with great confidence and affability; they offered him the League, which he took and signed, and gave them back; they attend him to the door with great joy and respect; but as soon as he was gone, they laughed and pointed at him; at which the Prince infinitely incensed, rose, and cried out, "What means all this; s'death, am I become the scorn and mockery of the crowd?" _Fergusano_ besought him to sit and have patience, and he obeyed, and checked himself. The scene of the apartment being changed to an arbour of flowers, and the prospect of a n.o.ble and ravishing garden, the hero is presented armed as he was, only without his plume head-piece, kneeling at the feet of a fair woman, in loose robes and hair, and attended with abundance of little Loves, who disarm him by degrees of those ornaments of war.

While she caresses him with all the signs of love, the _Cupids_ made garlands of flowers, and wreath round his arms and neck, crowning his head, and fettering him all over in these sweet soft chains. They curl his hair, and adorn him with all effeminacy while he lies smiling and pleased,--the wanton boys disposing of his instruments of war as they think fit, putting them to ridiculous uses, and laughing at them.

While thus he lay, there enter to him a great many statesmen, and politicians; grave men in furs and chains, attended by the common crowd; and opening a scene farther off in prospect, shew him crowns, sceptres, globes, ensigns, arms, and trophies, promiscuously shuffled together, with heaps of gold, jewels, parchments, records, charters and seals; at which sight, he starts from the arms of the fair _Medea_, and strove to have approached those who waited for him; but she held him fast, and with abundance of tears and sighs of moving flattery, brought him back to her arms again, and all dissatisfied the promiscuous crowd depart, some looking back with scorn, others with signs of rage: and all the scene of glory, of arms and crown