The grand Scipio an excellent new romance / written in French by Monsieur de Vaumoriere ; and rendered into English by G.H. | Early English Books Online (2024)

LAELIUS to SCIPIO

LEave the stand which you have taken up to behold Aemilia pass by, andrather come to Capsa, there to behold that admirable person more fullyand delightfully. The Prince of Capsa, in whose Pallace Aemilia is to be en∣tertained,is desirous to have you received into the same also, and his ex∣cellentDaughter the Princess of Hippona promises to be your confident,and do you service with the Illustrious person whom you love. Therefore Ibeseech you moderate your discontentments, and come receive of that gene∣rousfriend the assurance I tell you of.

then he fell to relate the principal actions which this famous Romanhad done in Italy, and to admire the Victories which he had gain'd inSpain and in Africa; and in brief, told him all that could be devised toperplex him. But when Scipio was going to divert the conversationhe saw himself driven into another perplexity not less inconvenient,since he found himself obliged to make great remerciments to Magas∣ba,for so are they constrained to do who have to act with persons ofthis humour: But as he was ready to return thanks to the Prince ofCapsa for persecuting his friends, he was happy enough to beholdhimselfe at the Gate of his Palace, where the fair Princess of Hipporeceived him after a manner far different from that of her Father. Forwhilst Magasba was gone to give some orders, he had bethought him∣selfof (for persons of this humour have alwayes something to do)his amiable daughter entertained Scipio so admirably, that what evershe said was far from affectation, or being too much studied and fetchtabout, but was accompanied with a noble obliging and lovely air. MyLord, said she to him smiling, I know not whether or no the Princehave told you that his house is not handsome enough to be offer'd tothe Illustrious Scipio, but I know I shall make you no complementof that kind, but on the contrary promise to shew you in a little timethe handsomest things in the world. What I have seen already, Ma∣dam,answered he, are so handsome, that I am ravish'd with thesight: But I shall be more too, Madam (added he) if you have thegoodness to honor me with a friendship of which Laelius hath given mehopes. Yes, Madam, said Laelius, I have told Scipio.

Alas, Laelius (interposed she pleasingly) do not believe peace is sosoon made between us, but know I will not easily forget the injuryyou have done me. How? Madam, answered Scipio, has Laelius dis∣oblig'dyou? Yes, My Lord, replyed she, and moreover he hath dis∣obligedyou. And moreover, interposed Laelius smiling, I am glad Ihave disoblig'd you both, nor shall I readily repent of it. Alas! I beseechyou Laelius, said Scipio agreeably, be not so fierce, and know I em∣bracethe interests of the fair Princess of Hippo against you. But, Ma∣dam,added he, be not so fierce, addressing to this amiable person, it isrequisite I know of what nature the offence is you speak of, since Iam interested in it; and though I were not so, I should notwithstandingbe as sensible of it as a true friend ought to be of what concerns ano∣therso fair and generous. You must know then, replyed she, that Lae∣liusmade a discourse to me wherein he us'd all the reasons he could in∣ventto perswade me to act in your favour, with the illustrious Aemila;but he did it with so much ardour, that I was in truth wholly incensedwith it; for I account to intreat me with urgency to act for you, is ina manner to take pains to make me to act reasonably. Be pleased there∣foreto judge, My Lord, if there be not something offensive in the dis∣courseof Laelius. I find something so much obliging in yours, inter∣ruptedScipio, that I am rather inclin'd to render you thanks, then to bein choler against Lelius; besides, that what is in your opinion an of∣fence,being an offence of a true friend.

Alas, My Lord, cryed she, do not deceive your self, but believe the

offences of a true friend ought to be more highly resented. But, Ma∣dam,answered Laelius pleasingly, do you deceive your self as little inthis matter, and believe I have done that which I ought to do. For ac∣cordingto your own censure, I have onely failed, in that I intreatedyou urgently for such a person as Scipio, and so it seems I did injuryto his merit and your generosity. However, proceeded he smiling, Imust advertise you, Madam, who are yet but a new friend, that azealous and active friendship sometimes makes us do things whichseem unprofitable, for fear lest coming frequently to act with toogreat circ*mspection, we let slip some important occasion of doinga service to a friend; or else lest our friendship by becoming too nice,do not also become lukewarm and languishing. So that, Madam, ad∣dedhe agreeably, if you have the happiness of not being more offen∣dedin what you have further to say, you will not cause me very ma∣nyenemies. Scarce had Laelius ended these words, but the Princeof Capsa came to wait upon and conduct Scipio to his Chamber. Scipiorefused his ceremony as much as he could; but Magasba believing hedid it out of complement, persisted so inflexibly in his resolution,that Scipio was at length enforced to suffer himselfe to be conducted,what repugnance soever he had, to leave the amiable Princess of Hip∣po.'Tis true, this illustrious Roman had the satisfaction of hoping hemight discourse with Laelius in his Chamber concerning the divineAemilia; but he was much perplext, when being come thither, Ma∣gasbadesired also to conduct Laelius to another which was preparedfor him. Scipio and Laelius both deprecated his civility, and believedhe would not be so obstinate to separate them. But it fell out other∣wise;for this Prince whose ceremonies were unalterable bent to per∣plexthem, would needs have Laelius leave Scipio's Chamber, al∣ledgingit was unfit two persons of such high condition should belodged incommodiously. The two illustrious friends answer'd, thattheir friendship and their affairs would not permit them to be sepa∣rated.But Magasba replyed smiling, and shaking his head a little, thatit was hard to deceive a man of his age, that he perceived well whatthey pretended was but a fictious civility, and that they desired to betogether, only that they might take up less lodging in a house whereina great number of other guests were expected. But they needed nottrouble themselves in that respect; His Palace was larger and morecommodious then it seemed to be; and in a word, if there were a ne∣cessityfor any to be badly lodged, it ought not to be either Scipio orLaelius.

These illustrious Romans endeavoured further to oppose the willof Magasba; they pressed him with reasons, and importuned himwith intreaties: but all their instances were unprofitable, and Magas∣baretain'd so obstinately, whatsoever he set upon, that Scipioand Laelius, after a silent beholding of one another, as to testifie howdisgustful ceremonies are, at length were separated; and Laelius suf∣feredhimself to be conducted. Indeed afterwards Magasba was plea∣sedto let them breathe and come together; for after having made agreat complement also to Laelius▪ he left him, and gave him liberty to

go to the Chamber of his illustrious Friend, though not without afear continually of meeting or being followed by Magasba: so true itis, that persons of this humour, are troublesome even in places wherethey are not.

Laelius was no sooner in Scipio's Chamber, but they began to speakof the persecution of Magasba, though without much insisting on it,having many more pleasing and important matters to discourse of.For Laelius, to moderate the grief of his illustrious friend, told himall he conceived pertinent to appease his discontents, and indeavouredto perswade him he was not so unhappy as he believed himselfe tobe. For are not you assured after all, said he to him, that Aemilialoves no person to your prejudice; and when you were upon the pointof marrying that adorable Lady, did you not observe as many to∣kensof joy in her fair eyes as you could wish? and did not you be∣holdin those very eyes as many tokens of discontent as you did be∣foreof joy, when a surprising and dreadful obstacle interven'd to op∣poseyour happiness? And therefore I conceive you have no cause toafflict your selfe as you do. For if the gods seem to intend that Han∣nibalshould marry Aemilia—Ah! Laelius (interrupted Scipio) ra∣thersay the gods intend it absolutely, and that they have made it suf∣ficientlyevident. This evidence which frightens you, answered Laeli∣us,confirms me; besides, that we see no appearance that Hannibalwho is ardently amorous of Thomira, should marry Aemilia whomhe never saw.

Alas! Laelius (replyed Scipio) you argue ill in the matter, sinceyou know not that the Gods when they intend to make themselves re∣markedfor the agents, are wont to make things come to pass contra∣ryto all appearance, to amaze humane wisdome, and to make it ap∣pear'tis a supernaturall conduct which acts and makes use of meanswhich are remote from, and very often contrary to their end. But,Laelius (added he) should what you say be true, and should thereneeded onely commodious disposition of affairs; yet do weenot already perceive an accomplishment to my unhappiness? For inb••ief, if I have transferr'd the War into Africa, it has been ratherfor reason of love, as I may so say, then for reason of state: Andindeed Fabius, who thought meet I should fight Hannibal in Italy,had not fewer reasons to make good his opinion, then I had to main∣tainmine, which was, that it was best to carry the Warr into theCountry of the Enemy, But the Interest of my love being concernedin the business, I spoke above my ordinary force, and at length carriedit from Fabius in that famous contest. But observe, Laelius, how theGods delude our conduct, and how they punish us when we in anymanner oppose what they have designed. For we have seen, since Ibrought the War into Africa, to draw Hannibal thither, and by thatmeans to deprive him of all occasions of seeing the divine personwhich I adore, it is come to pass by a strange adventure, that Aemi∣liais come into Africa, and Hannibal is arrived there also soon after,as well it seems to behold that adorable person as to defend Carthage.And what can you say to this Laelius? What have you to say to the

left your Lieutenants, Aemilius, Marcellus, and Flaminius, to com∣mandthere, whose prudence and courage is beyond all exception,who are all good Souldiers, and great Captains, each of which bearsrevenge in his heart for the death of an illustrious Father. As forwhat regards the Auxiliary forces, if Hannibal has for his Allies An∣tiochus,King of Syria, Philip King of Macedonia, and Prusias, Kingof Bithynia; you have Ptolomy King of Aegypt, Attalus King of Asia,and our brave and dear Masanissa, whom I cannot believe to havecommitted the crime report accused him of. Ah! Laelius (interrupt-Scipio)I have seen Masanissa with Hannibal. With Hannibal! cryedLaelius, and you seen him there? Yes, replyed Scipio, and thereuponhe related to him part of what had befallen him upon the way toCapsa. But though he recounted the adventure with very much re∣servation,yet Laelius discern'd cause enough to admire the heroicalcomportment of his illustrious friend, when he considered with whatgenerosity he had fought for Hannibal, and with what generosity heafterwards undertook the combate against him. But having expres∣sedsome Tokens of Admiration for these two actions of Scipio, heetold him he could give some light to the adventure of Masanissa. TheKing of the Massessilians and my self, proceeded he, were at the headof four thousand men which you had given me to lead to Tacapa,that they might re-enforce the Garrison of a place whither Hannibalperhaps might come in a few dayes. When we were not farre fromTacapa, Masanissa, who had alwaies a strong passion for Sophonisba,and was alwayes telling me of the charms of that fair Queen, desiredto go to a little Temple of the Sun, which is not much distant fromLeptis, that he might there learn something by the answer of the god,which might give him some light in reference to what he either de∣siredor feared. But for that he carried with him onely four or fiveCavaliers; 'tis likely the Scouts of Hannibal's Army might have setupon him and taken him prisoner, And therefore you ought not towonder, added he, that Hannibal and Masanissa were seen together.Since in all probability the Carthaginian craft may have treated theKing of the Massessilians obligingly, to draw him to his party, or per∣hapsHannibal & Masanissa, being both generous, generosity may haveinduced them to act in the same manner, as if they were really friends.But, however it be, I believe Masanissa will never withdraw himselfefrom the interests of Rome; so that we have nothing to consider ofbut how to draw him out of the hands of our Enemies, either by ran∣someor exchange, that we may afterwards know the circ*mstancesof Sophonisba's death, of which I cannot believe him culpable. Nowyou see, added he, what resolution you are to take in relation to theKing of the Massessilians; but for what concerns the interest of yourpassion, the Princess of Hippo and my self will be no unactive in∣struments.

As for your Army, I conceive you must expect to make a newresolution till after the Treaty of the Carthaginians, and in the meantime you may well enough repose your self upon the cares of Aemili∣us,Marcellus, and Flaminius; scarce had Laelius finished these words,

those of Aemilia's attendants, whose service might be necessary untoher. After which, Palmira offered to conduct the fair Nadalia into aChamber: but this young Lady having no need of reposing herself, and onely rectifying something about her head-tire, they de∣scendedinto a low Hall, where they found Laelius, Cato, and Regulus,who were walking there, whilst Magasba lead Scipio into a Garden,to shew him the handsomness of the Alleys, Statues, Grottoes, andFountaines. The conversation which was then made between Palmi∣ra,Nadalia, Laelius, Cato and Regulus, was absolutely pleasing andgallant; for these five persons were of rare address capacities, and po∣liteness.And what rendered this conversation more agreeable was,that the greatest part of their wits were different, and had their par∣ticularexcellencies. Those of Palmira and Laelius were gallant andNoble; that of Nadalia sprightly and mirthfull; that of Reguluspartaking of both; and Cato had in his something so cold and severe,that it was great pleasure to see him in contestation with Nadalia, withwhom he did not not very often agree. But it being upon the Prin∣cessof Hippo to pass the first honours, she conceived her self also ob∣ligedto begin the discourse, which she did in these words, addressingto the three Romanes which were with her: If you are deprived ofthe happiness of being with the illustrious Aemilia, the beauty andwit of Nadalia will cause you to induce that loss with less regret.Alas! Madam, interrupted that admirable Lady, I beseech you causenot these persons eyes to be turn'd upon me, where you are present;and be pleased not to attribute those blandishments to me which I donot deserve. Hindering me from speaking out what I intended (re∣plyedPallmira) you prevented me from comforting you for the sameloss, by making you hope very much satisfaction from the conversa∣tionof three illustrious Romanes, who have rare qualifications ofingenuity. Speak of your self, if you please, Madam, (answeredLaelius) and you will speak with justice. And you will give less of∣fenceto Nadalia (added Cato) who loves not to hear the Romanscommended, of whom she hath conceived so strange an opinion,that she takes them all for Catoes. Alas! Cato (interrupted this ad∣mirableLady) I do not that favour to all the Romans; and if I havesometimes had an unkind opinion of them, you ought to forget whatI ever said out of that prejudice, since from the time I knew the Ro∣manes,I have infinitely esteemed them. And moreover, added shesmiling, I may say I am now perfectly reconciled to Rome, and amextreamly glad of being so: for in truth my imagination was tyr'dout with contending every day against that powerful City. But itwould be known (said Palmira, after having laugh'd at this speechof Nadalia) how you could do otherwise then esteem a people whoin the judgement of all others is indued with virtue, wit and va∣lour.

To tell you the truth, answered Nadalia, and according to the liber∣typermitted me every where to speak of things according to the ap∣prehensionI have of them; I conceived indeed the Romanes had

virtue really, but that their virtue was nothing at all lovely: on thecontrary: I believed it was so rigid and severe, that it never beheldjoy and divertisem*nts without discontent and inquietude. If Ibelieved the Romans valiant (proceeded she) I thought they wereso by wit rather then greatness of courage; that they adventured up∣ondangers, because they were constrained to it; and if they lost theirlives rather then commit an ignoble act or a cowardize, it was onelybecause they lookt upon infamy as something more terrible thendeath.

And in a word, added she smiling, I imagin'd the glory the Romansfought for, not to be a beautiful Virgin, lovely and resplendant, but aWoman of a good age, severe and Majestical. As for wit, I belie∣vednone of the Romanes destitute, and that their wit was cultivatedand pollisht, but not well contriv'd; that it was a dry wit, (if I mayso speak) and averse from all jollity and gallantry. And in fine, ad∣dedshe smiling, I imagin'd the Romans so enamour'd on their Coun∣try,that in their conversations they never utter'd other pleasantnessesbut political Maxims.

But, fair Nadalia, said Regulus to her, the first Roman whom youknew, was not, I conceive of that severe humour. That was your self,Regulus (answered she) who convinc'd me of my prejudice at Sa∣guntum.Not but that before I ever see you (continued she smiling)I violently dreaded your conversation, and that more then I shouldhave fear'd that of Cato or Fabritius. I beseech you earnestly (saidRegulus agreeably) tell me what it was that so terribly affrightedyou. 'Twas because (answered she) I believ'd you a greater lover ofRome, then all the other Romans, and consequently more severe andpolitical. You pronounce very confidently in favour of Regulus (saidPalmira) without declaring your reason. 'Tis easie to render it (an∣sweredNadalia) for if it be reasonable (added she smiling) to mea∣surethe love of a man by the hatred he bears his Rivals; may not Iconclude that Regulus loves Rome more then all the Romans besides,since he hates Carthage more then then they all do, which I have hearda hundred times term'd the Rival of Rome? But Nadalia, takecare what you say, (interpos'd Cato, smiling a little) for according towhat you asserted first, it will follow that Carthage should be the Ri∣valof Regulus, and not of Rome.

You have suffered me to proceed a long time without reprovingme, answered Nadalia with her accustomed pleasantness, but take heedyour self (continued she with the same air) and know, that whatwould not be exact speaking in the mouth of Cato, is very tolerablein that of Nadalia; and after all, it suffices that Regulus hates Carthagemore then you do, to give me ground to infer that he loves Rome morethen you do, as much Cato as you are. Nadalia pronounced theselast words so agreeably, having utter'd them with a little pleasingcommotion, that all the company smiled thereat. After whichLaelius beginning to speak, I perceive Nadalia (said he to her) youhave need of my friendship, because you agree but ill with Cato, and

not exceeding well with Regulus. For which reasons I offer it to you,without expecting till you desire it of me, and I will use all meansto make it acceptable unto you. For I will renounce in your pre∣senceall sort of affairs. And since the hatred of Regulus (added hesmiling) has not made a good impression in your mind, to give youbetter for my humour, I shall never speak to you but of love. Intruth, answered she smiling, you will perhaps do me a greater plea∣surethen you believe, provided this last but two or three dayes; forduring that time a quite contrary conversation becomes vehementlyfastidious to me: and I dare affirm, the illustrious Aemilia hath mademe despair. For when I went about to speak to her concerning Scipio,she in treated me to forbear, but it was with such a touching sweet∣nessas would have constrain'd the most rebellious heart in the worldto obey her: so that I was depriv'd of the satisfaction I should havehad of performing a good office in some measure to a person, whobeing so young a Conqueror, is nevertheless extreamly virtuous, andinfinitely amiable. But Laelius (continued she smiling) since youhave begun to make me obliging proposals in publick, it is fit youspeak of Love in General, though it were onely to do displeasure tothe persons with whom you give me notice, I am not upon goodterms. Forbearing to speak in particular (answer'd he, I shall do allthat you please, and maintain against all your Enemies, that there isnothing more powerful, nothing more noble and advantageous thenlove. And I shall prove (interposed Regulus pleasantly) that whatyou say of Love, may be with more justice attributed to hatred. Butto make the conversation more handsome (answered Nadalia) it isrequisite that you speak seriously, as also that Cato declare himself, andtake his turn; and when you have all three given your opinions, thejudgement of the difference shall be referred to the Princess. I con∣sentto the conditions, said Laelius; and I do the same, added Regu∣lus;my submission then to the proposal shall follow, agreed Cato.But it must be known (said Nadalia to him) whether you will defendLove or Hatred? I shall speak against both (answered he) ButNadalia (said the Princess of Hippo) I will not decide this debate, orat least, not without your judgment. It is necessary that you do it,Madam, answered she, for not to make the Elogium of your wit, Ican only say for my self, that I am suspected in this matter. Wellthen, Nadalia, replyed the Princess, to avoid a new dispute whichwould arise betwixt you and me: I will do what you desire, thoughon condition that after I shall have declared my judgement, you tellyour own without dissimulation or complyance. I shall obey yourpleasure, (answered she.)

To begin therefore to speak of Love, said Laelius, I shall assert, that wehave nothing more powerful, nothing more advantageous or noble,then the excellent passion I speak of. We see Love is a God, and aGod so powerful, that he hath subdu'd all the rest to his Empire, andwho, that he might triumph generally over all, hath overcome him∣self,and sometimes sigh'd after the fair Psyche. And if it be true,

proceeded he, that Division of what nature soever, is a thing abso∣lutelydestructive; is it not just to affirm that we have nothing moreadvantageous then Love, which is a passion that preserves all thingswhile it unites them? And indeed, was it not Love that establish't ci∣vilsociety amongst the first men? Was it not love that afterwardsincited them to elegancy of life, and teaches us every day to live asmuch for others as for our selves? But these are not all the effects oflove; for if virtue makes it self to be belov'd, it must be love thatinspires it, since love seeks alwayes to extend it self in the heart ofthe beloved person. Moreover we see every day this excellent pas∣siongives courage to the Pufillanimous, moderates the fierceness ofConquerors, opens the Purse of the Covetous, and daily inspires uswith such excellent sentiments, that we may in a manner say, thatNature by giving us Being onely, makes us living Creatures; but'tis love which afterwards renders us reasonable. In truth (said Re∣gulus,when he perceived Laelius had no more to say) I am in a strangeperplexity, being oblig'd to answer a person of a transcendent wit.It lies upon me to speak in commendation of hatred before the beauti∣fulpersons who ought extreamly to abhor it, since they look upon thecontrary passion every day as an effect of their beauty; and in brief,I must be the Patron and Protector of a thing whose onely nameseems presently odious.

But since it cannot be evident, continued he agreeably, I shallmaintain that Hatred is more powerful, more advantageous, andmore noble then Love. And in effect, Is it not true, that there is moreevil then good in the world? that Grief acts more vigorously then Joy?and that Poysons deprive us of a life, which remedies are unable torestore?

If this be true, as is not to be doubted; Is it not also true, that thepassion which with-drawes from all these things I mention'd, oughtto be more powerful and advantageous then that which leads us togood, which is usually found more weak then evil, as I said before?I might hereunto add a hundred other particulars to the advantage ofHatred; but I shall content my self with answering what Laelius hathspoken in the commendation of Love. I observe then, that he saidLove is a God, and a God that hath subdued all the other Deities tohis Empire. Nevertheless also I observe it may be answered, thatthat very God may as well bear the name of the God of Hatred. Andindeed, does he not shoot as many Arrows headed with lead, whichproduce hatred in the breasts they touch, as he does of those whichare pointed with Gold, which inflames the hearts which they wound;and consequently causing as much hatred as love, he might assumethe name of the former of these Passions, if perhaps the people hadnot been at first dazled with the effects of the richer mettal, or at leastif they had not conceiv'd some greater pleasure in naming them, thenin naming Hatred, which was produc'd by a metal not esteem'd of.For in truth, one of these Passions does not satisfie more then the o∣ther;and I believe a person that hates, pleases himself as much in

his aversion, as a person that Love finds satisfaction in reflecting onhis affection. Therefore let Laelius change his opinion, and let him nolonger say, That 'tis Love rather then Hatred which establish'd civilsociety by uniting our fore-fathers together; that love hath induc'dus to politeness of manners, and taught us liberality, and the way to actfor the interest of others. For, as for my part, I believe Hatred pro∣duc'dthese excellent effects, and think it not difficult to be prov'd. Forbe pleas'd, Ladies, to imagine the world without society and ci∣vilmanners; you will soon apprehend how men continuing in De∣sartswithout union and order, would kill one another like Tygersand Leopards; but you will also see that coming by degrees to con∣ceivea hatred against such disorder, they will unite to preserve them∣selves,they will build Cities to secure themselves from the attemptsof strangers, and constitute punishments against those that shall causedisturbance amongst them. Thus you see, Hatred will establish civilSociety. And let it not be objected to me, that this proceeds ratherfrom the love we bear our selves, which causes to unite for our ownconversation, since on the contrary 'twas that self-love which causedall the former disorder: for the strong would never go about to op∣pressthe weak, if he were not desirous to ravish from him what hesees him possess; so that it may be said, 'tis that self-love which cau∣seddivision and hatred that has afterwards establisht civil society.But this is not all the advantage which we receive from Hatred. Forafter having establish'd society, it hath also taught us the means topreserve it: for (that as in the primitive confusion) men hurt and kill'done another; it behov'd them in society to act one for another, where∣bythey have made a kind of act of doing good offices, and obliginggenerously.

Moreover, I affirm, that Nature has made us more rational bygiving us Hatred, then by giving us Love, since we have more evil toencounter with (as I said) then good to pursue; and it is necessaryfirst to overcome the evil that we may afterwards attain the good;as no question, it behoveth first to conquer our Enemies, before wecan enjoy the sweetnesses of the victory. Thus you have (added Re∣gulus)what I had to plead in defence of a passion, which has not somany Patrons as it ought, & whose very name oftentimes affrightenspersons who knows not the nature of it. In truth (said Laelius) I amhighly pleas'd it fell to me to speak first, for having heard Regulus,how much better soever my cause be, I should be strangely perplext,if I were in the place of Cato. You would not be so, answered Cato,if you were really in my place; since you would not resent the trou∣bleswhich the passions excite, or at least you would not be obligedto speak in their commendation, and extol the source of all mischiefs,and the cause of all irregularities. For in brief, 'tis reason whichought to guide a man, and 'tis the violence of passions which cloudshis reason, and causes a man not to deport himself as a man. Catoheld his peace after these words: but because 'twas known he wasnaturally inclin'd to silence, it was the custome to ask questions, or

propose Objections to him to draw him to speak. Wherefore Leliustaking this course: How, Cato? (said he to him) do you contentyour self with speaking those few words against the passions? Havenot I said enough (answered he) when I told you 'twas they whichhindered a man from acting like a man, and term'd them the sourceof all irregularities?

But we may say also (replyed Lelius) that they are the source ofvery many virtues: For we see daily, Fear renders us prudent, bymaking us fore-see the Evils which threatens us, and boldness makesConquerors. I know well (answered Cato) that the Passions some∣timesconduce to the purposes you speak of: but it falls out so seldom,that they lead us to Virtue, and so often, that they carry us to Vice,that in truth I should be loth to make use of their assistance. As incase I were to sight a battel (added he) I should not be very gladto serve my self of Souldiers whom I saw inclinable to revolt againstme, and readier to tear me in pieces, then to make me carry the victo∣ry.But yet it must be confess'd (said Regulus) that the virtues whichserve to govern the Passions, would be no longer in the world, ifyou should banish thence the motions which they ought to regulate.I acknowledge it, answered Cato, but you must also grant me, that inthis case we should suffer no damage. For since the Virtues you speakof, serve onely to govern the Passions, they would become uuprofi∣tablein the world after there were no longer any Passion in it: sothat we should in a manner be satisfied for the losse of them on thiscondition, as we should be assuredly ravish'd with joy for having nophysical remedies in the world, provided there were also no diseases.what you say, is unquestionably ingenious (said Regulus) but I findan impossibility in the thing; for I do not believe it possible to rootup the Passions out the heart of man.

If we cannot wholly pull them up by the roots (answered Cato)we may at least pull up all that germinates from thence, provided itbe done speedily, and they be not permitted to grow vigorous andgather too great strength. Cato spoke no further; and Lelius and Re∣gulusknowing his humour, did not attempt to oblige him to speakmore, so that it now came to the Princess Palmira (notwithstandingall her refusals) to give her judgment concerning these contrary sen∣timentswhich she had heard deliver'd. She endeavour'd indeed, be∣foreshe would pronounce to draw forth the opinion of Nadalia; butthis amiable Virgin oppos'd it so resolutely, though withal very ci∣villy,that Palmira was constrained to pronounce without it, whichyet was not tell she had first engag'd Nadalia to declare her own senti∣mentsafterwards, without dissimulation or complyance. This littlecontestation being ended, silence was made, during which, the fairPrincesse of Hippo lookt upon the three Romans, who expected to bejudged by her, and then told them that Lelius had spoken extreamgallantly, that Regulus had contriv'd his reasons in a very ingeniousmanner, but that there was more wisdom and safety in following thesentiments of Cato. Palmira had no sooner ended these few words,

but Laelius and Regulus were satisfied with them, and return'd herthanks.

But that which seem'd extraordinary and unexpected in this occa∣sion,was, that Cato, who was the most oblig'd to Palmira, con∣tinuedin his wonted coldness, without making any remorciment atall to the fair Princess. Upon which, Laelius, who was of an open andgallant address, could not suffer Cato to use this severity; but beingthey were familiar and intimate, 'tis strange to me (said he to him)that you have not thank'd the Princesse Palmira for preferring yoursentiments before ours. And I find it more strange (answerd Cato,without being mov'd) that you give the Princess of Hippo thanks forspeaking what she thinks. We give her thanks (replyed Laelius)because she thinks and speaks things to our advantage. The PrincessPalmira (answered Cato) being a just person, thinks and speaks soonely, because she believes you deserve she should; so that her sen∣timentsnot giving you any merit, and onely declaring, to speak thetruth, that you are deserving, you are more oblig'd (if I may sospeak) to your own merit, since 'tis that which produces those ad∣vantagioussentiments in Palmira of you. We know well, said Re∣gulusto Cato, that you do not want reasons to maintain your severehumour. But, believe me, Cato, 'tis alwayes a severe humour, andconsequently not so lovely as the pleasantness of Nadalia, who is en∣gag'dto speak after the Princess of Hippo. Fair Nadalia (added Laelius,turning towards this lovely Virgin) tell us with freedom and since∣rity,as you promised, whether your judgment be conformable tothat of the Princesse Palmira. To speak in the manner required of me(answered she with an air perfectly pleasing, and addressing to thecompany in general) I shall tell you, that Laelius and Regulus havespoken very rationally, and that according to what I have heard,their sentiments are not so contrary as they seem. As for those ofCato, it is impossible that I should approve them. For indeed, one,but the least cause of our contrary opinions, is the diversity of ourhumours; but besides, added she smiling, if onely insensibility wererequired to wisdom, I believe a Rock would be a great Philospher,and a Tree wiser then Cato.

At these words of Nadalia, the company expressed a smile of ap∣probation;and some of them telling Cato, they wondered a personso ingenious should not approve these opinions; I had rather, answer∣edhe, it should be wondered why witty persons appove not my sen∣timents,then why they do. As Cato was speaking these words, Scipioand Magasba entered into the Hall, and changed the conversation;where after they had spoken of divers matters, and Palmira was toldby one of her Attendants, that they might go up to Aemilia's Cham∣berwithout disturbing her; all this illustrious company went up thi∣ther;saving Maga••ba, who by good fortune was drawn otherwhere totake care for something which he conceiv'd wanting to that exact andtroublesome civility of which he made profession. But Aemilia beingrecovered of her weakness, and beholding Magasba's Garden from

her Chamber window, she declared her desire to go and walk there,upon which all this noble company readily accompanied this admi∣rableLady thither. Cato gave the hand to Aemilia, which Scipio pre∣sumednot to do out of respect, but lead Palmira, as Laelius and Re∣gulusdid Nadalia, to whom they told a thousand divertising things al∣thoughvery contrary. For Laelius alwayes▪ spoke to her as a friend,and Regulus as an enemy, to render the conversation more agree∣able,founding that enmity upon the opinion which Nadalia some∣timeshad of him before she knew him. Aemilia and Cato had with∣outdoubt an excellent Discourse, but after a prudent and seriousmanner; and the illustrious Scipio entertained the amiable Palmiraonely with the violent passion he had for the adorable Lady which hesaw walk before him. The Princess of Hippo was really affected withthe expressions of Scipio, and therefore being willing to do a serviceto that illustrious Lover, she insensibly drew Aemilia into an Alleywhich ended in a fair Grotto, on both sides of which were two littleArbors of Jasmine. Nadalia, Laelius, and Regulus amus'd them∣selvesin beholding the Grotto; and when Aemilia, Palmira, Scipio,and Cato, were entered into one of those Arbors, Laelius began to dis∣putevery loud against Nadalia, upon the first thing she spoke, andthen went into the A••bor where Aemilia was, to cause Cato to comeforth. In truth (said he, as hs was entering) I think we are to day de∣sign'dto nothing but dispute; and therefore, Ladies, it is necessarythat you give us Cato to judge of our differences, since it cannot beobjected that he is a passionate Judge; and moreover, added he a∣greeably,our company hath more need of wisdom then yours. Thefair Aemilia, who nothing doubted the little treason intended againsther, and beheld her self with the Princess of Hippo, did not opposeLaelius's desire; but answered pleasingly, that if she had known oftheir being already so high in contest, she would have contributedall her indeavours to the composing of their differences. And I won∣der,Madam, (added she pleasingly, turning towards Palmira) thatyou have not put an end to their debates which you caus'd to ariserise amongst them.

I know not very well (answered she) whether I have wanted power,or a will to do it. For power, replyed Aemilia, I will not do that injuryto the persons amongst whom the dispute is we speak of, to believe theywill not submit to your sentiments; nor on the other side, will I ac∣cuseyou of not having bin willing to bring matters to an accom∣modement.Alas, Madam (replyed Palmira) I was not much soli∣citousof doing what you speak of; for, besides that I was willing tohear handsome Discouses, I had an accommodement to make whichwas of greater importance. Palmira in speaking these words, looktupon Aemilia in such a manner, that this Roman understood whatshe intended to intimate; so that she would not answer to a Discourse,the continuance of which she did not desire.

But the passionate Scipio not being able to moderate his transportsat the sight of so many charms, cast himself at Aemilia's feet, and

told that Admirable person without her being able to interrupt him,all that a violent and respectfull passion could inspire him with tomove her. No, no, Madam (said he to her) you must not persist inthis cruel inflexibleness which causes all my torment; but you oughtat least to listen to a Princess who would intercede in my favour withyou. I beseech you, Scipio (answered this fair person) moderateyour passions, or rather augment that which you have, for glory, tothe end you may weaken that which serves onely to trouble yourquiet, and accuse not of your unhappiness a person who is her self indanger of becoming the most unhappy in the world. Therefore (con∣tinuedshe, rising up) you ought onely to think of overcoming thefierce enemy of the Romans: And in the mean time Scipio, (addedshe, offering to go forth) believe I shall not perhaps have more zealto pray the Gods in behalf of my Country, and my Brother, then Ishall have to make vowes for your preservation and your glory. Shewas going out as she ended these words; but Scipio retain'd her, andthen beholding her with eyes which spoke sufficiently both his loveand his discontent. How? Madam (said he to her) have you thecruelty to forsake the Princess of Hippo, without hearing what shehath to say to you. In the name of the Gods, Scipio (answered she, witha suppliant action and infinitely affecting) do not oppose what I amdesirous of. And you, Madam (added she, turning towards Palmira)be pleased to have the goodness to pardon me the incivility which Iam enforced to commit; and believe, I beseech you, that you wouldnot accuse me of injustice, if you knew the reasons for which I act inthis manner. You must then, if you please, Madam (answered Pal∣mira)do me the favour to let me know them, and to permit Laelius torecount me the History of his Illustrious friend (which he dares notdo without your consentment) to the end I may afterwards act equi∣tablyboth for you and Scipio. I consent to it (replyed she going forth)and I am glad you will by that means learn that I have done for Sci∣piowhatever gratitude obliged me to, or virtue permitted me.

After these words, all the Company joyn'd together again, andPalmira failed not to acquaint Laelius with the consent she had ob∣tainedof Aemilia; so that (added she) I shall not suffer you in quiettill you have satisfied my curiosity. I shall satisfie it when you please(answered he to her) and shall be glad to let you know two Illustriouspersons who are not known to you now but imperfectly.

As she ended these words, the Prince of Capsa came among thisfair company, and continued with them till he judged it time for sup∣per.Their repast was compleatly magnificent; and after a short con∣versation,Aemilia was accompanied to her Chamber, and Nadalia tohers by Palmira, into which the Princess entered, and caused Laelius toenter too. Who knowing the intentions of these two fait persons, andAemilia's pleasure that Nadalia should hear the particularities of herlife, seated himself down by them. And though this famous Romanwas term'd among others by the names of the wise and knowing, yethe understood so well how to accommode his knovvledg and vvis∣dom,

The History of SCIPIO and AEMILIA.

EXpect not, Madam, to hear in the beginning of my Discourse,that kind of Proem which they generally use vvho are to recounta History. They are vvont to promise great matters to gain the at∣tentionof those that hear them; they pick out high words to shewtheir excellent wit, and never fail to excuse themselves that theireloquence is short of the subject they are to treat of. For my part,Madam, I account it not material for me to make use of these Arti∣fices;for besides that, I believe that the names of Scipio and Aemi∣lia,promise at first all that can be imagin'd great, I conceive it wouldbe needless for me to take pains to win the attention of a Princess,who without doubt would not have commanded me to speak, if sheintended not to listen to what I have to say. As for high language,Madam, I presume you will readily dispense with me; for besidesthat, it shews some violence and enforcement in him that uses it, yet ittoo much takes up the hearers, who oftentimes heedlesly let importantmatters pass by, and even some which being necessary to the bodyof the History, it is impossible afterwards to dis-intricate adven∣tures.But, Madam, I shall yet less serve my self of the excuses whichI now condemn'd: for to tell you things as I apprehend them, if Iwere eloquent, I should be so far from being sorry that my eloquencewere short of the subject that I speak of, that I would repress it incase it offer'd to lift up it self, and keep it under, as I may so speak,to the end there might be nothing in my discourse that might divertpart of an attention which I would have wholly bestow'd on thethings I should speak, and not on the words I made use of to expressthem. For what can be heard more satisfactory to the mind, and ca∣pableto fill it with excellent Idea's, then the relation I am going tomake, whether you consider that greatness of birth in the persons Iam to speak of, or admire the rare qualities of their bodies and minds,or be affected with the sentiments of an heroick soul; or lastly, de∣sireto hear surprising events related, which seem destinated onelyto cause revolutions in the lives of extraordinary persons? But, Ma∣dam,lest you should apprehend me guilty of the fault I decry, it be∣hovesme to enter upon the matter, and to let you know that Scipiois of the Illustrious race of the Cornelii, which has always bin so fruit∣fulin great men, that 'tis not without cause the sir-name of Scipio hasbin given them, which signifies in our language a Prop, or stay, sinceassuredly the Cornelii hath ever supported our Republick, and de∣fendedit couragiously against all the enemies that have attaqued it.Nevertheless I may say, since all the world believes and publishes

it, that the Illustrious Scipio has yet a higher descent, and is Son ofthe great Gods. For you have heard, I imagine, that Iupiter was seenunder the form of a great Dragon in the Chamber of the Motherof this Illustrious Roman, as 'tis reported he was sometimes seen inthat of Olympias the mother of Alexander. And that which may insome measure perswade us, that Scipio is the son of Iupiter, or atleast as worthy to be so as the famous King of Macedonia is; thatScipio is extreamly pious, endued with all virtues, and blemishedwith no defect; that being not born upon the Throne, he is risen byhis virtue to the supream authority which he possesses, that he hasalready done things in Europe and Africa which will astonish poste∣rity;and that if he happens to defeat Hannibal in a decisive bat∣tel,he will have done more then ever Alexander did.

There is yet a difference between these two great men, which is, thatthe King of Macedonia would peremptorily have had the wholeworld treated him as the Son of Iupiter, and on the contrary thewhole world would have treated Scipio in that manner, if himselfhad not opposed it.

It is true, this famous Roman has taken no extream care to rootthis belief absolutely out of the minds of people, but it has onlybin out of respect to the glory of Rome; for he believ'd the Soul∣dierswould fight with a higher confidence, if they conceiv'd theyfought under a Son of Iupiter, and would take themselves to beinvincible when they beheld a Demy-God in the head of them.But, Madam, intending only to speak of Scipio as of a great man,and the Son of Publius. Scipio, who lost his life gloriously in Spainat the winning of a great field, I shall omit to tell you of the prodi∣giesthat were seen at Rome on the day of his birth, which causedus to presage good fortune to our Common-wealth, and of thosethat were also observ'd at Carthage, which had a contrary effect. For'tis reported that the day on which Scipio was born, according to thesupputation that has bin made of it, the Tongue of Land on whichCarthage is built was perceiv'd to tremble, and that Eagles were seenentring into the houses of the Suffetii, who as you know, have thesame authority in Carthage that the Consuls have in Rome. But forthat all these Prodigies, which are nothing but extraordinary signsof things not common, would not much divert you; I shall preferto tell you things more essential to Scipio, and which will certain∣lybe more agreeable and pleasing to you.

After having spoken of the house of the Cornelii, it may seemconvenient before further proceeding in my relation, to say some∣thingof that of the Aemilii, being as well to recount to you the lifeof the Illustrious Aemilia, as that of the Grand Scipio. The firsttherefore that bore the name of Aemilius, was according to an opi∣nionsufficiently authentick, a Son of the famous Pythagoras, namedMarcus, to whom the name of Aemilius was given by reason of hiseloquence. This Marcus after the death of his Illustrious Father,who, as all the world knows, came out of Greece into Italy, went to

inhabitate at Rome, where he establisht the Aemilis. But, Madam,there is yet something more of Grandeur in the Original of this Il∣lustriousHouse: for according to several inquisitive Antiquaries,the Aemilii is descended from that famous Aemilia, daughter ofAenaeas and Lavinia, who was of such admirable beauty, that Marshimself became amorous of her. And the Hero that was the issue ofthat affection, was not Romulus, as some would have it, but the firstof the Aemilii, who having no father upon earth, bore the name ofhis Illustrious Mother, and caused these words to be engraven onthe Gate of his Palace in our language, which signifie, We are fromMars.

Behold therefore, Madam, what are the Houses of the Corneliiand the Aemilii, which have given us the Illustrious Scipio, and theadmirable Aemilia. As for the education of the fair person I namedlast, I shall not insist upon the particularities of it, but content myself to tell you, that Publius, who was undoubtedly an excellentperson, omitted not to breed up Scipio nobly. For himself train'dhim up in all his exercises at home; and then caus'd him to be taughtthe Sciences, and also sent him to Greece to perfect and polish hismind.

It was my happiness that my Father sent me hither too at thesame time; so that it was at Athens where I began to contract thatfriendship with Scipio which is so taken notice of in the world, andwill unquestionably be the sole advantage that will make me knownto posterity. But if the Romans admired the wit of Scipio, I maysay the Greeks were astonish'd at it: all the excellent persons thatwere at that time at Athens, resorted to Scipio's lodgings, either tomake conversation with him, or to take his sentiments for the workswhich were then writ in Greece. And to shew you that Scipio's mindis none of those narrow ones, who cannot addict themselves but toone science, or to one kind of writing: I have onely one thingto tell you that all the world knows already. You may pleasethen to know, Madam, that Ermius, who was at that time at Athens,and who began there to write Latine Verses in imitation of theGreeks, and to bring our Poetry into the world which our Fathersnever before attempted; began also to ingratiate himself with Sci∣pio,and to shew him his Works before he durst publish them to theworld. But if Scipio were admirably accurate in judging the Worksof Ermius, which have a style majestical and rough, he did not judgwith less exquisiteness of the ageeable Comedies which Terence be∣ganto compose at that time, and us'd to bring to him himself, andwhich had a certain air so easie, natural, and gallant, that all the in∣geniouslove them with an extream passion. But this was not allthe attraction of Scipio's wit, to draw persons of different humoursand contrary Nations to him, as I told you; for he allured even theGreeks themselves, who liv'd not at Athens. Polybius quitted Mega∣lopolis,being charm'd by the reputation of this Illustrious Roman,to come and be near him, and hath since begun (as no question

you have heard) to write of the Warr which we have at Carthage.But, Madam, I should not have spoken thus largely of Scipio's wit,but onely because he shews it at full view but to few persons, andshews to very few of his friends whatsoever he writes in Verse orProse. I will not be so prolix in commending his courage, since inthe recital of his life, you will see a thousand evidences of a prodi∣giousvalour; and I shall also forbear to tell you of two or threesingle fights he had at Athens, in defending the interests of his Na∣tionand his friends. Not but that there is something extraordi∣naryand surprising in that which I pass over in silence; for thoughScipio had not reacht his sixteenth year, yet he got the better inthree combates which he fought with so much advantage and glo∣ry,that all the Swordmen began to make their resort and familia∣ritywith him, as the wits had done already. But he might havedrawn more pleasant advantages from those which he gain'd in hisfightings if he had pleased: for his reputation joyn'd with his nobleaspect, caus'd all the handsome persons whom we saw both at A∣thensand the other Cities of Greece, where we came to have a highesteem for him, and so great a complacency, that I have wonder'da hundred and a hundred times, how Scipio could live in Greecewithout being intangled, and that he had no more but a generousand respectful civility for so many amiable persons. For nothingis more true then that he never resented those agreeable agitationswhich they call Love all that time, during which he liv'd after amost perfectly pleasing manner. But it was requisite for him in ashort space after to forsake that calm manner of living; for newscame into Greece, that Asdrubal having bin slain, his brother in lawHannibal was put in the head of the Army of the Carthaginians;that he had already over-run a part of Spain; that he ever sincewon all the places that he attempted; and that after such good suc∣cesshe prepared to besiege the strong City of Saguntum, confede∣ratedwith the people of Rome.

We also heard at the time, that Regulus was gone to put himselfinto Saguntum, and that the Romans had sent Ambassadors to Car∣thage,to complain of the proceedings of Hannibal there, who con∣traryto the League made by his Father Amilcar, and renewed byAsdrubal his Brother in law, led his Army against the confederatesof Rome.

Scipio no sooner understood what I have rehears'd to you, but hefelt himself inflam'd with a desire of glory, and an ardor whollygenerous. So that the same day having taken order for all accom∣modationsfor his journey, he departed the next morning to gointo Italy. My self being a Roman of no bad inclinations, and afriend to Scipio, departed with him, and we went to the Isle of Zo∣cynthusto ship our selves, because we were inform'd there was aVessel of Lilybaeum there in readiness to hoise sayl and return forSicily. But, alas! fair Nadalia, we were no sooner arrived at Zacyn∣thus,(whose Inhabitants, without doubt you know, went in former

times into Spain to found Saguntum) but we beheld all the world insorrow, and learnt that Hannibal had entered that miserable Cityby assault.

They went yet further, and as people are wont not to intermixin lamentable news any thing that may mitigate them, they told usnothing of the passages of Hannibal and Thomira, but contrarily in∣form'dus; all were destroy'd by fire and sword, and that they hadnot spared the Prince Edescon, nor Lucius, nor Regulus. At thisnews Scipio lost all moderation, expressing a thousand regrets forthis miserable City, and in his agitations threatned Carthage, andblamed Rome for not having succour'd her Allies. But as soon as wewere imbarqu'd, the wind became so favourable to us, that wesoon arriv'd in Sicily, where chance caus'd us to meet with a manwho expected an opportunity to go into Greece, to bring us Let∣tersfrom Publius, and my Father, who commanded us to go toPisa. Wherefore we continued on our voyage, and the wind alsostill favouring us, we arriv'd in a short time at Pisa, where Publiusgathered together all the ships he could, both upon the TyrrheneSea, and that of Liguria, to pass afterwards to Marsilia, and giveHannibal battel amongst the Gauls.

It would be difficult to represent to you the caresses that Pub∣liusmade to Scipio, though he endeavour'd to restrain part of histenderness, and to express to you the joy which he resented whenhe beheld his dear son exceeding the relations of fame in the good∣linessof his person. I shall content my self with telling you, thatafter Publius had received his Son in this manner, he gave him somereproofs. Scipio (said he to him) if you have shew'd your self ge∣nerousby coming into Italy, when you knew it convenient to serveRome, you are to be commended; but you give me no cause to bepleas'd with you in coming without my order. For you ought toknow, I have the sentiments of a true Roman, and a heart firmenough to be able to sacrifice you to your Country; and that if youare generous enough to desire to deserve it, before you have at∣tain'dyour seventeenth year, I am so to have you serve it, and tocommand you to do it.

Publius pronounced these words with such Majesty, that Scipioblusht out of respect, and afterwards beginning to speak; MyLord (answered he, with a profound submission) having an assu∣redbelief that you would send order for me to come away; I didso without expecting it, and was willing to arrive the sooner withyou, to deliver you from the care of sending into Greece. Scipiohad scarce ended these words, but the young Fabius, the youngFlaminius, Cato, Servilius, Lentulus, and seven or eight other youngRomanes of quality, came to do reverence to Publius, and to testi∣fieto him the satisfaction which they had in beginning to serve un∣derhim. Publius receiv'd them with all the civility that they coulddesire; after which having commanded Scipio to salute them, weall saluted one another with very much joy and affection. All

these young Romans were so ravisht with beholding the goodlyaspect of Scipio, and observing a certain gracefulness in all his acti∣onsand words, that they began forthwith to esteem him infinitely,and accompanied the caresses they made him with a certain respect,which their age, which was something more advanc'd then that ofScipio, might have in a manner dispens'd with. But, Madam, not todetain you with relating the cares Publius took to form an Army;I shall onely tell you, that this Illustrious Roman having suddenlyand strangely gathered one together, we departed from Pisa, andarrived happily at Marsilia. There we soon understood from Re∣guluswho was come thither, that Hannibal had beaten the Gauls,which attempted to dispute the passage of the Rhosne with him, andthat he was preparing to pass over the Alpes with an Army of anhundred thousand foot, and twenty thousand horse. Upon whichPublius sent Regulus with three hundred horse both to observe themarch of the Carthaginians, and to discover in what places the Ro∣manArmy might most advantageously encampe. But for thatScipio had learnt that Hannibal was wont to sent forth parties, eitherto pillage or to discover the passages; he came into my Chamberthe same morning that Regulus departed, and embracing me pre∣sentlywith a gladsome kind of fierceness upon his countenance;Come, my dear Laelius, (said he to me) let us go to horse, and notslip the first occasion of drawing our swords, without putting ourselves into a condition of drawing them.

I had no sooner consented to what he propounded, and we hadno soo••er taken our Horses, but we speeded after Regulus withsuch happy diligence, that our arrival was serviceable to him; forwhen we overtook him, we found him engag'd with five hundredHorse of Hannibal's Army, who notwithstanding his valour, hadtotally de••eated him, if Scipio had not came opportunely to his re∣lief.

But this Illustrious Roman whom I endeavoured to second, wasno sooner came up to Regulus in the head of his men, but he pre∣sentlyslew a valiant Numidian, who commanded the party of theEnemies; and being afterwards ingag'd in the midst of those Afri∣cans,he carried death and terrour where ever his dreadful sword wasseen. At length we dispatcht or put to flight the Enemy, and Re∣gulustestifi'd that he ow'd all the advantage to him which he hadgain'd; and all the Romans beheld this young Hero with a venera∣tionmore then men use to resent in beholding persons like them∣selves.

Publius, and all the Romans of quality, received us at Marsiliawith much joy, and very many demonstrations of esteem; but a∣mongstall the testimonies of both they gave us, it was easily dis∣cern'dwhat an extraordinary admiration they had of the youngScipio. The Illustrious Publius was he alone that endeavour'd toconstrain himself, and not to shew fully how much he esteem'd hisdear Scipio; but his eyes oftentimes betray'd that severe prudence,

in which there was observ'd now and then such joy, and so manytokens of tenderness, that we well perceiv'd that he who testifiedby his words that he resented onely a moderate satisfaction, reallyresented an extraordinary gladness. But how highly will he aug∣mentthis esteem and admiration? Publius no sooner understoodthat Hannibal marcht directly towards the Alpes to pass over them,and bring the War into Italy, but he set sail, and assoon as he waslanded, bestowed all diligence to give check to the Carthaginians.He re-inforced his Army with the remains of that of Manlius, whohad been beaten by the Gauls; and having also received some newTroops from Rome, in which was the young Aemilius, brother ofAemilia, he onely took care to provide for a battel. Accordinglyhe passed the Po, and the Tesino in the head of his Army: and beinghe marched towards Hannibal, and Hannibal also was coming to∣wardshim, it was not long before they met and encountred. Atfirst the good order and fierce appearance of our enemies, strucksome terror into our Forces; But Publius confirmed them, andmade them go on with confidence enough against an Enemy morepotent in number, and made proud by several victories, sacks of Ci∣ties,and the presence of Hannibal. Our Illustrious Generall foundhis courage encreas'd the nearer he approacht such an enemy; andpassing from rank to rank, embracing some, and encouraging o∣thers,after all necessary preparation; My friends (said he) we areto fight to day not onely for our lives and liberties, but also in de∣fenceof our Wives, our Children, our Temples, and in a word, indefence of the walls of Rome: for, you see, our Enemies are now inItaly, the Pyrenean Mountains and the Alps are no longer betweenus, and they have no more Spaniards and Gauls to fight with. But toput you in mind, (added he, addressing to those whom he believ'dto be timerous) that you are Romans, and that you are going tocharge the Carthaginians, is sufficient to make you see that you arerunning to Victory. For have we not alwayes beaten the enemieswhich we go to attaque? Have we not imposed tributes upon them?And have we not enforced them to seek our alliance? What have wetherfore to fear? Is it for that they have passed the Pyrenaean Hills andthe Alps. Alas! my friends, this is it which assuredly promises us vi∣ctory,since we are going to charge forces, whom weariness and theIce of the Alps have half overcome already, and we are withoutquestion going to finish the conquest.

While Publius was speaking in this manner, his generous Sonupon sight of the Enemies, began to appear more admirable thenhe ever had yet done; his heart (if I may so speak) seem'd to quitit* ordinary place, and make it self seen in his eyes, in his counte∣nance,in his action, and in his words; his aspect became more firmand fierce, and his aire suddenly high and imperious. Let us on(said he to fifteen or twenty Volunteers who were to fight together)let us go shew Hannibal the difference there is between the Romansand the Nations which he has overcome; and let us onely remem∣berthat Romans, and such Romans as we, ought to die in the arms

of glory, or take from thence the Crowns which are never attain'dbut by generous attempts.

He had scarce ended these words, but he fell in amongst the Ene∣mieswith an unparallel'd impetuosity; so that Maharbal, who com∣mandedthe wing which we charg'd, was much put to it to bear upagainst this furious shock. But being a man of unquestionable va∣lour,he quickly rallied his men which we had at first disordered.And soon after meeting with Scipio, they singled one another outand fought, till they were parted by the throng that fell in uponthem. Scipio was then desirous to find Hannibal, and so opening hispassage on every side with his sword, he encountred with Magar,whom he wounded and cast to the ground; killing afterwards andover throwing all that stood in his way. At length he came to a placewhere he thought he might find the fierce Enemy he sought for:But, alas! it was in that place that we beheld Publius forsaken byhis own men, and encompassed with above two hundred of the ene∣miesHorse, and onely endeavouring to dye gloriously. We beheldhim all cover'd over with blood and dust; he defended himself withhis shield, and kept off his enemies with his sword, and being stillseconded by seven or eight men, disputed his life generously. Butthis resistance would have been nnprofitable, had not we come upimmediately to him; and yet we were not there timely enough tohinder him from receiving a wound with a Javelin in the right arm.This enraged Scipio, who suffering himself to be transported by theviolence of his resentment, and cleaving the crowd with more vehe∣mence:Ha! Caitives (cryed he) Ha Barbarians! and withoutsaying more, he ran upon him that had wounded Publius, pass'd hissword through his body, dis-engag'd his Father, sav'd his life, as allthe world knows, and perform'd those gallant actions which havebeen so much celebrated since, though he had not yet attain'd to theage of seventeen years.

But when he caus'd Publius to be carried into his Tent, the Ro∣manswhose courage was upheld by the presence of the Scipio's,were contented onely to bear up against the enemies, and made soweak resistance, that they fought no longer but in their retreat.Scipio, who was but slightly wounded, betook himself again to hischarge; but he could not get himself follow'd; wherupon turn∣ingtowards me, and some other voluntiers that were with us: Ah!Laelius (said he to me) is it possible that we have not overcome?Let us go, Laelius, let us renew the fight, and at least be the last toretreat from it.

He said no more, but beholding Fabius, Flaminius and Cato com∣ing,all three slightly wounded, who were retyring themselves, heshew'd them a body of Horse still fighting; wherefore all of themspeeding up to see vvho they were, we beheld about forty or fiftyHorse vvith Aemilius, Regulus, and Servilius, vvho defended them∣selvescouragiously against above three hundred of the enemies.Our succour presently rendred our friends the stronger; so that

Aemilius, Regulus, and Servilius being disengaged, we all drew offin good order with the rest of the Army. But because the Enemieshad lost a great number of men, and so were not in a condition toattempt any thing upon us; most part of the Volunteers left theCamp to go to Rome, and likewise a few days after Scipio and myself went thither, with Publius who was carried in his Litter, leavingthe Conduct of his Forces to his Lieutenant Generals, till Semproni∣uscame to demand them in his place. The day we arrived at Rome,I found my father at Publius's house with an infinite number ofRomans who were met to await for Publius, and to see Scipio,whose reputation had fill'd the mouthes of the City. Aemilius, Fa∣bius,and Marcellus, were there with their Illustrious Fathers. Wealso found there Flaminius, Cato, Regulus, Minutius, and Varro,who was but of obscure extraction, but by the favour of the peo∣ple,and a pride sufficiently fortunate was grown up to some consi∣deration.In brief, all the Romans of quality excepting Sulpitius,were this day at Publius's house, as well they which had lately serv'dunder him, as they which had serv'd in Sicily under Sempronius.Pyneas King of Illyria, a young and goodly person, Perseus Princeof Macedonia, and some others of like quality who were then atRome, repaired thither also, so that the conversation was perfectlyhandsome: for if on the one side the Romans of elder years spokeof the affairs of the Common-wealth, the younger sort who madea company apart, entertain'd themselves onely with the several in∣terestsof love and gallantry, which were occasion'd by the beau∣tiesof Rome. At which time one of Servius's friends made a com∣plementto Publius and Scipio in the name of his friend, who wasconstrained to defer his visiting them; and as he was going aboutto tell the reason where we were, Pyneas began to speak, and ad∣dressingto Scipio; I find (said he to him) something very extraor∣dinaryin the reputation which you have gain'd, since the fairestpersons of Rome have not onely a great desire to see you, but an in∣finiteesteem for you already, and are deeply oblig'd to you. Fornot to mention the fair Fnlvia, whom Servilius, whose life yousav'd, is to marry to morrow; you have oblig'd the IllustriousAemilia, and the amiable Attilia, by rescuing their dear brethen,Aemilius and Regulus. And the charming Popyria (added Flamini∣us)has perhaps not a less obligation to you for the safety of Aemi∣lius.

We continued this conversation for some time, by which Scipioand I came to know the eminentest beauties in Rome, by the relati∣onsmade of them: after which, being it was already very late, allthe company retyr'd. The next morning when we intended to vi∣sitour friends, it was told us we should find none of them at home,for that they were all at Servilius's house, or those adjoyning to histo see Fulvia pass by, who was to be lead home to him. Whereforehaving never seen the like ceremony; we went to see it at a housewhose windows opened directly upon the Gate of that of Servilius.

But because, Madam, 'tis possible you are ignorant in what mannerthey lead Brides home at Rome; I shall describe to you in few wordshow we saw Fulvia brought to Servilius at Rome.

There were six men attyr'd in a silken habit of Carnation, andblew, because these were the colours of Servilius and Fulvia. Thesesix men carried this fair Virgin, who had on her head a Garland ofVervain and flowers, which she ought to have gathered her self. TheChair in which she was carried, was adorn'd vvith a thousand knotsof carnation and blew, vvhich ty'd together little vvreaths of flow∣ers.On the corners of the Chair hung large bunches of Myrrheand Vervain, stuck vvith all sorts of flovvers; there vvas also seena great Portal at the entry of Servilius's house, adorn'd vvith anArch and Pillars of flovvers, vvhich vvas extreamly handsome.But, Madam, perhaps you vvonder that they carry the Bride to herHusbands house at Rome, and no vvhere else. It is easie to satisfiethe curiosity you may have to knovv vvhy this custome has bin e∣stablishtat Rome.

Yet I shall not give you the account most of the vvorld do con∣cerningit; vvhich is, that 'tis not seemly for Virgins to enter ofthemselves into the house of their Husbands. For, Madam, I shallnot do the injury to the Ladies of other Nations, as to say, that themodesty. I speak of is peculiar to those of Rome, and does notproduce the same effect in the hearts of the Africk and Spanish.But, Madam, to tell you the verity of the thing, this custome vvasestablisht at Rome, only to renevv in all marriages the memory ofthe first that vvere made there, as you knovv vvithout doubt, bythe carrying avvay of the Sabine vvomen. But to return to the restof the Ceremonies that vvere observed, vvhen Fulvia vvent hometo her happy Lover, you must knovv that Servilius being accom∣paniedby all his kindred, and excellent musick sounding beforehim, received his lovely Bride, and divided her hair vvith the pointof a Dart.

This Ceremony is done, to shevv that the cares of Marriageought to be divided; and vvhereas they make use of the point of aDart, 'tis onely in remembrance of the Sabines, and to testifie thatthe Romans when they wanted women, knew how to get them bythe dint of Arms. After Servilius had divided the hair of Fulvia,as I said, he presented her the keyes of his house, he wished thatshe were as virtuous as Tanaquil, and afterwards took her by thehand to conduct her into a great Hall where the Ceremonies wereto be compleated.

All these passages I have related to you pleas'd me so highly, thatI fix'd my eyes unmoveably upon them, and gave them my wholeattention, so that I took no notice that there was a fair and Illustri∣ousCompany in the windows opposite to ours.

For the divine Aemilia was there, with the charmingPapyria, the faire Attilio, and severall other Ladies of other qua∣lity;

of the men that were seen together with these fair persons,was Aemilius, the King of Illyria, the Prince of Macedonia, andVarro.

But it is moreover remarkable, that though my eyes were other∣whereimploy'd too much to behold the fair company I have men∣tioned,yet Scipio's were contrarily so fix'd in beholding them, thathe saw nothing at all of the Ceremonies that were done before us.Indeed it must be confess'd, I was dazled my self when I beheldAemilia; for you may well judge, Madam, that the lustre of herbeauty hindered all the Ladies that were with her, from divertingany part of that admiration which we gave intirely to this divineperson. Aemilia, therefore, being so transcendent as you have seenher, and beyond the power of my Rhetorick to describe, retain'dthe eyes of Scipio in such manner, that this Illustrious Lover (forso I may already term him) did not understand the Ceremony wasended, but by seeing that fair person withdraw from the window,and a servant take away a Cushion of Cloath of Gold, upon whichshe had lean'd: All the spectators did the same both on Aemilia'sside and ours, so that we necessarily were engag'd by being seen, tosalute her, and the noble personages with her, who return'd our ci∣vilityat the same time. Yet I believe, Scipio would not have begunthe salutation, (his mind was so imploy'd) but when Aemilia be∣heldhim, she saluted him; and afterwards Pineas, Perseus, and Varro,with the Ladies, did the like. Scipio was indeed very ready to col∣lecthimself and re-salute them; but he did it with an action so fa∣cileand agreeable, that all the Ladies turned towards the men thatwee with them, to tell them (as we understood afterwards) thatthey knew Scipio both by his graceful aspect, and that gallant airewhich they observed in him when he saluted them; and then ad∣dedalso, that if all the qualities of this young Roman answer'd tothose they already remark'd, he had with justice obtained an univer∣salesteem.

While these Ladies were speaking thus, they departed from theirWindows, and went into a Hall, where we lost the sight of them;upon which, Scipio stayed some time at the window, if peradventurehe might have another sight of them; but he saw them otherwisethen he expected, for within a few moments after, he perceived atthe Gate of the house Aemilia's Mother, who was coming out of itto go to that of Servilius, with Varro who led her; and presentlyafter when he had seen her divine daughter appear, he would stayno longer, but went hastily out of the Chamber wherein we were,without calling me. Assoon as I perceived his action, I ran afterhim, and asking him whither he was going, to Servilius's house(answered he.) You are very exact (said I to him smiling) to makeyour visits so speedily. And you little obliging (replyed he) not tomake yours, till after all people else. I would not defer it so long(said I) nor yet am I desirous there should be so great a crowdingthither. Were it not time at this instant (answered he) to make a

complement to Servilius, undoubtedly there would not be thatcrowding thither, which you fear so much. But (said I again tohim) hear at least what I have to say. But cannot you speak (in∣terruptedhe) as we are going. Pardon me (answered I) and Iwish to the Gods, that what you will see at Servilius's house, may aslittle hinder you from speaking aright, as I am troubled to speakin going. But (continued I) 'tis possible you will not have all yourmind about you there; for according to what I have observ'd, hand∣somethings which you never saw, affect you very sensibly whenyou first see them. I mean (added I smiling) the brave Ceremo∣nieswhich we beheld now. And I very vvell understand your sub∣tilty(answered he, endeavouring also to smile) but to shew you thatI am capable of doing a great violence upon my self: I will re∣sumealso the liberty of my mind, and chase out of it in a mannerthe fair Idea, where with the gallant Ceremony you mean, has un∣questionablyfilled my imagination

You shall do very well (replyed I) if you intend to preserve theesteem which the persons we are going to see have already concei∣vedof you. Well, Laelius, (said he, as he was entering into thehouse of Servilius) observe what power I have over my self. Andin ending these words, he indeed resum'd that freedom of Actionand spirit, which he was unpossess'd of a few moments before; andI may with truth affirm, that notwithstanding the great multitude inthe Hall of Servilius; Scipio at his entrance drew the eyes of everyone upon himself, and perhaps the esteem and admiration. He wentimmediately to make his Complement to Servilius, and to Fulvia,and the principal of her kindred, and having acquitted himselfwith great gallantry, went to that place of the Hall where the La∣dieswere; but he was amazed to behold Aemilia yet more transcen∣dentlybeautiful then she seem'd to him before. For you mustknow, Madam, in these sort of Feasts, they use to shut up all the ave∣nuesof day-light, into the place where the Assembly is, and thenlight up five Torches in honour of the five principal Deities whichare invoked in Marriages, and an infinite number of Lamps in ho∣nourof the lesser Deities, so that this kind of light being ordinarilyfavourable to beauty, and moreover Aemilia having a certain en∣gagingsweetness which is not discernable at distance; and all thisjoyn'd with the goodliness of her stature, and the gentle air of hercarriage, almost made Scipio lose the resolution which he had taken;besides that he fancied this fair person, who seeing him approachrise presently up, as all the rest also did, had saluted him after amore civil and more obliging manner. But he renewed his resolu∣tions,both because I was present, and he had engag'd to me tokeep his mind free, or rather because Aemilia was present, beforewhom he would not appear perplext, especially in this first conver∣sation.

So that after some agreeable discourses concerning the Ceremo∣niesof Marriage, which was a subject that at that time offered it

self, Emilia told Scipio, that he was arrived at Rome at a very goodtime to see this Festival, and then demanded of him whether he ac∣countedto not very handsome. I protest to you, madam (answer∣edhe) I never saw any thing so handsome, as what I have seen in thisFestival. But for that there are different sorts of handsomness, anddifferent humours, (said Papyria to him) you must tell us withvvhat you vvere best pleas'd, vvhether with the comliness of thepersons, or the musick, or the gallantry of attire, to the end vvemay know vvhether you have had the same gust vvith Emilia, orAttilia, or my self. Scipio being a perfectly honourable personage(said Emilia) vvill not be loath to confess that he judg'd Fulvia thehandsomest thing vvhich he beheld. Pardon me, Madam, (an∣svveredhe) if presume to contradict you, and assure you, thatFulvia vvas not the handsomest thing vvhich I beheld. Scipio hasreason (said Attilia) not to be much affected vvith the beauty of aLady, (because he sees fair ones every day) as vvith the pompe of aFestival vvhich he never savv before. But that is not it, Madam,(ansvvered he) vvhich most affected me. It must needs be then(said Papyria) that I have gained the cause, since there remains noother part to take but that of the Musick. Verily, Madam, (an∣sweredhe) you have as little gain'd the cause; for that which plea∣sedme most, was neither the Musick, nor the Ornaments, nor Ful∣via,but something infinitely above them all. It is easie then to con∣jectureit (said Aemilia) for since it was neither of those three things,and there was nothing surprisingly handsome besides, it must be acertain pleasingness that arises from them altogether, which charmsmore then any one of them is able to do severally. But, Madam,(answered he) as I was not very intent to behold them severally, itis difficult I should have bin able to gust that united pleasingnessyou speak of.

Scipio being very ingenious (said Aemilia) it is not to be wonder'd,if he does not declare himself; for in so doing, he would disobligetwo Ladies, and oblige but one. But, Aemilia, (answered he) bepleas'd not to make me so ingenious; and believe, I would have in∣geniouslyconfest the thing, if it had been mention'd what reallymost pleased me. For my part, (said Aemilia) I am in despair toconjecture it. I believe you would be much troubled to do it (an∣sweredhe) for I am confident, Madam (added he subtilly) youcould not see what I beheld most handsome. I was the onely personthat well understood the sense of these last words of Scipio: for Pi∣neasbegan to speak at this time, and Persens and my self being af∣terwardsmixed in the conversation, it became in a manner general,and yet very agreeable and pleasant. In the mean while, Varro wasspeaking to Aemilia's Mother with very much heat, so that we werea long time at Servilius's house; though these kind of visits use tobe generally of no great length, by reason of the throng which al∣wayshappens in such occasions.

But at length, after Claudia had conferr'd some time with Varro,

she arose to go forth, being followed by all our fair company; butas I happened to be sufficiently near her, I observed Varro retain'dher by the Robe as she was rising, and heard him say these wordsto her with passion: Alas! I beseech you, Madam, answer me pre∣ciselybefore you go.

The matter being very important (answered she, bowing downto him) you must give me leave to consult about it with the personsconcern'd: after which she arose and went forth, as I told you. Theamorous Scipio would certainly have gone forth with her incompa∣rabledaughter, if I had not with-held him and constain'd him tocontent himself with making a profound to Claudia, and the per∣sonsthat went with her, and only to follow the divine Aemilia withhis eyes. Scipio could not continue there a moment after this fairperson was gone, but was absolutely bent to go away too, and toldme with some seeming trouble our visite had continued long e∣nough,and we might well go forth now, since all the world haddone so already. Yet, I see (answered I) the company is still good;nevertheless I will do what ever you please, and I will go (added Ismiling) whither you will command me, since the most lovely per∣sonof the world is no longer here. I will not tell you a thing whichall the world knows (replyed he, as we were going forth). Ishall then go learn (said I, smiling again) which no per∣sonknows yet, which is unquestionably that you love Aemiliamore then all the persons that ever you have seen before. Alas!Laelius (answered he) I beseech you do not smile when you speakof such matters. I shall do what you please (replyed I) providedyou do not require me to sigh; for I should be much troubled toobey you.

And is there any cause of sadness in what I have seen (answeredI, taking my way towards the Tybor, on whose banks we were go∣ingto walk) and ought not I to be ravisht with joy, that Scipio,who without flattery, is the goodliest person of all our Romans, isbecome amorous of Aemilia, who unquestionably transcends allthe beauties of Rome? What then do you find your self, Scipio,that can give you discontent! Is there not an equality between youin point of greatness, of birth and riches? and if Aemilia has beau∣ty,wit and virtue; does not all the world speak of your rare ac∣complishment?and in fine, is there any reasonable person inRome, that would not make vows to see Scipio and Aemilia con∣joyn'dtogether, and the powerful Houses of Cornelii, and theAemilii allied?

Alas, Laelius (answered he sighing) you consider not what yousay, or else little understand the divine Aemilia. How can youthink, Laelius (continued he with the same air) that a reasonableman ought to pretend to Emilia? Alas! Laelius, all is below this di∣vineperson; and you would certainly be of my opinion, if you hadwell considered what she is, if you had taken notice of her dazlingbeauty, if you had observed her wit which is both gallant and mo∣dest;

and lastly, if you had remark'd a certain charm in her aboveall I have mentioned, which I observ'd my self, but am unable toexpress. Yes, Laelius, if you had admir'd all these things as I did,you would acknowledg that Aemilia, the adorable Aemilia, ought tolook upon the pretensions of the most worthy person in the worldas an insufferable insolence. You are transported too far (said I tohim) for how Illustrious and fair soever Aemilia be, she will one dayrender some man happy; and you never yet saw any person so ab∣sutelyelevated above all others, but there has bin found a match forher in the world. And you have also never seen (in••errupted he pas∣sionately)any person comparable to Aemilia; so that you cannothere infer, as they do ordinarily in the like cases, where you arespeaking of a divine person who is so farre above all that is hand∣somebesides in the world.

Scipio pronounced these words inspired to him by his passion,with such violence, that I was strangely amazed his passion shouldbe so strong in its beginning; wherefore desiring to moderate histransports, I indeavoured to give him hope, conceiving no otherpassion so proper as that to calm the violence of love. But as I wasrepresenting to him, that I saw no reason he had to frame occasionsof trouble and inquietude to himself, and that I could not discernwhat obstacles could intervene to his happinesse, and was by seve∣ralarguments indeavouring to compose his mind in quiet; we be∣heldsome young persons of quality approching towards us, whichwere, Fabius, Flaminius, Marcellus, and Regulus. Being united, theconversation amongst us was at first very agreeable, but it was in∣comparablymore a few moments after; for having met Cato, whowas walking alone upon the banck of Tyber, we employ'd our ral∣leryagainst him upon a hundred occasions at once to puzzle him;and he having a very stiffe and impetuous wit, the conversation be∣cameexreamly divertising.

But for that our discourse at that time is of no necessity to the se∣quelof my story, I conceive it not material to detain you with theseveral subjects of our conversation. But, to proceed, I must tellyou, that all being parted at convenient time, Scipio and I went tothe Palace of Publius, his Father, where I was constrained to Sup.Which we had scarce done, but a slave of Publius's came to whis∣perme in the ear, desiring me to take the pains to descend down in∣tothe low Hall where Minutius attended to speak with me concern∣ingan affair of importance. Being I lived in an absolute liberty inPublius's house, I descended forthwith without being obliged to anyCeremony; and there I found Minutius, who approaching towardsme, desired my pardon for his coming to incommodate me at suchan hour.

But since 'tis for a friend (proceeded he) that I am come to be∣seecha favour, I conceive I may do it with the more confidence,and especially from Laelius, who so well understands all the dear∣nessof friendship. But not to lose time (added he;) I must tell you

in few words that Varro is infinitely amorous of Aemilia, and thatI newly received this Ticket from him which you may please toread. At which words he presented me one, in which I was muchsurpriz'd to read these words.

Varro to Minutius.

THis day at Servilius's house, I discovered new charmes in Aemi∣lia,which have redoubled the violence of my passions; yet Claudia,with whom I was very instant, would promise me nothing. Judge there∣forein what a condition I am; but to contribute towards one more happy,I beseech you strengthen our party on your side with as many friends asyou can engage in it, the end Lucius and Claudia may grant that to themediations of a great part of Rome, which they would certainly refuseto the requests of Varro, and indeed which Varro himself can never ob∣tainfrom the condescention of Aemilia.

If I was surpriz'd at the beginning of Minutius's discourse, Iwas extreamly astonish'd when I had read this Ticket; so that Mi∣nutiustaking this time to tell me what he had designed to commu∣nicateto me, he entreated me to embrace the party of Varro, andto engage Scipio in it too. For though I have not hitherto doneScipio or you any service (continued he) and there be no great in∣timaciebetween us; yet I hope you will not refuse what I requestof you, since no exception can be taken against a Caball, the de∣signof which is onely to bring about a marriage. I have so little in∣clinationfor all sorts of Cabals in general (answered I) that youmay please to excuse me if I ingage not in yours: besides, that theend you design, is so different from the means you would use to at∣tainit, that I think your project will be unsuccessful. Moreover,all that shall contribute towards bringing to pass this affair by theway you would take, will not onely highly disoblige the whole fa∣milyof the Aemilii, but they will also contribute to the unhappi∣nesseof Varro; for indeed he would be in eternal punishment tohave alwayes a fair person in his eyes, whom himself had render∣edunhappy, and gain'd by force (as I may so speak) in stead of in∣deavouringto affect her heart by his submissions, respects and ser∣vices.But since 'tis your desire I should mention it to Scipio, (ad∣dedI) I promise you to acquaint my friend this night with what Iunderstand from you, and to let you know in the morning our lastresolution. In the mean time, Minutius, be confident I shall not re∣vealyour secret to any whatsoever but Scipio. Because it is unmeet(answered he) to go about to force the sentiments of others, I can∣nottake it ill that you disapprove ours; and provided, you religi∣ouslyobserve the promise you have made me, beyond which youare not obliged, I have no right to pretend to more. Neverthelesse(added he craftily) one of these two things must be effected; either

that you gain Scipio, and be both of you of our Cabal; or that Iprevail upon the mind of Varro, so as to quit his enterprise. Thelast of the two (answered I) is assuredly more easie and equitablethen that which you desire of me; but however, I keep my selfto my promise, which is to speak of your affair to Scipio, and to noneelse. I had no sooner ended these words, but Miuntius, who appa∣rantlyintended to go to other Houses, took his leave of me, andimmediately after his departure, I went to Scipio, and lead him tohis Chamber; where assoon as we were entered, I began to tell himof this new adventure, but without the least sign of wondering at it,to the end he might not apprehend it as a matter of any great mo∣ment.But it did not fall out accordingly; for I had no sooner re∣latedto him the discourse I had had with Minutius, and the sub∣stanceof Varro's Letter; but he testifi'd an extream trouble and a∣mazementat it.

Alas! Laelius (cryed he) how much were you deceiv'd, whenyou conceiv'd there were no obstacles to my happiness. And I amunhappy (added he) since in the same day that I am become amo∣rous,the dearest of my friends must come and tell me I have a Ri∣val,and that a formidable Rival too, since he designs to engagea part of Rome to act for his interests. If your passion permitted youto reason aright (answered I) you would not apprehend the matteras you do, nor look upon Varro as a formidable Rival, who takes sounpromising a course to advantage his pretensions. What knowyou▪ Laelius (interrupted he) but some strange fate may make Var∣roconquer by a way not ordinary, a person who is so little so? JustGods! (cryed I) what preposterous thoughts are these of yours!Why do not you instead of reasoning so perversly, reflect ratherupon Varro's Letter, which will unquestionably compose yourmind?

And in truth (continued I) do not you see Claudia would pro∣miseyour Rival nothing, and that Varro has no hopes from the fa∣vourableinclinations of Aemilia? But you do not say (answeredhe) that Claudia has not refus'd my Rival any thing, & in such occa∣sionsas these, who so refuses nothing, seems to promise all. If youwere not strangely prejudic'd (replyed I) you would say that inthese occasions, who so promises nothing, seems to refuse all. Andit was never seen that a man was roughly rejected, and his alliancebut weakly refused. But on the contrary, there is alwayes sometemperament us'd in the matter; as sometimes they tell you, theperson you desire is too young: othertimes, they speak of an othermatch from which she is not yet wholly dis-engag'd; and in brief,they find out a hundred pretexts which are not disobliging to re∣fuseyou what you desire. But you cannot say (answered he) thatClaudia has used any such like pretext. No more can you (inter∣ruptedI) that she has not, or that she has bin favourable to a manwho sees himself constrain'd to have recourse to the last remedies;and after all, you see your Rival declares expresly, he can hope no∣thing

from the favour of his Mistress; what reason therefore haveyou to afflict your self? This indeed makes not much to my tor∣ment(answered he) but yet I apprehend not so much sweetnesstherein as you do; for since Varro, who is infinitely ingenious, andhas made a thousand conversations with Aemilia, judges nothingto be expected from her favour, what can Scipio hope? How? (in∣terruptedI) would you that Varro should have made any impressionupon the heart of Aemilia? or would you have me make yourPanegyrick, and say that Scipio may obtain that which Varro hasfail'd of?

Ah! cruel friend, (cryed he) why do you use such perplexingexpressions? Because (answered I) you imploy your wit onely toframe torments to your self, and complain that 'twas your friendwho advertis'd you that you had a Rival, instead of rendring thanksto the Gods for the discovery made to you of a contrivance againstyour Mistress. Quiet your mind therefore, I beseech you, and in∣steadof busying your self about fancies to increase your trouble, letus consider what answer we must give Minutius. These will be nodifficulty in giving him an answer (said Scipio.) For we have no∣thingto do but to break his design, which equally strikes both atvirtue and Aemimila. But that which I find a little perplexing is,that I am unresolved whether I ought to advertise Emilia of it, orwhether, without engaging for in the affair, I ought to endeavourto perswade Varro to desist from his enterprise; or in case he resolveto prosecute it, to oppose him with my friends, and either to be-breakit, or or dye generously.

But I believe, (added he) this last course will be that I must fol∣low;for I conceive we ought not to divulge a thing told us in se∣cret,before having endeavour'd to redress'd it, and moreover, Ibelieve it were better to serve Emilia without bringing her parentsinto danger, whether we serve her by hidde•• means, or by usingopen force. I am of your opinion (answered I) although I know ifwe should chance to perish in our enterprise, we should be blam'dfor not having rendred our party stronger, by discovering the mat∣terto the persons concern'd. But for that the persons who wouldblame us in such manner, are certainly onely such people as neverjudge of things but by the events; we ought as little to stand uponthe gaining of their esteem, as the fore-seeing what may happen.For after all, great prudence ought not in my jugdment to be thegrand virtue of young persons. Wherefore without further debate,let us expect to take the best expedients we can to morrow morn∣ing,when we come to confer with Minutius, and learn his utmostresolutions. In the mean time (added he) it is requisite for us tobetake our selves to our lodgings; and I would have you considerwhen you are at your rest, whether, if you have a Rival, you oughtto fear the power of his birth and his virtue; and ending thesewords, I went forth out of his Chamber without expecting his an∣swer,and retyr'd into my ovvn, vvhere I pass'd the night vvith

more quiet then Scipio. The next morning assoon as it was day, hecame into my Chamber, and being seated upon my Bed-side, wouldnot at first speak concerning Aemilia, but began to set upon me formy sloathfulness.

I apprehended the matter so pleasantly, that indeed it inspired mewith cheerfulness; so that looking towards him, you believe with∣outdoubt (said I) 'tis very late, because perhaps 'tis a long time youwak'd. But do not deceive your self, and think not 'tis the Sunwhich causes you to rise so early, that makes it day to us. Alas! Ibeseech you (answered he) let us discourse seriously. I do so (re∣plyedI, affecting to seem serious) and for confirmation of what Isay, I will prove that in good Morality, you are injurious in wakingme, and that a friend ought not like a Mistress, disturbe the rest of aperson that loves him.

You are so little serious this morning, Laelius (said he) that Iknow not well what to say to to you. And you so much (answeredI) that I know not well what course to take to make you lay asideyour serious humour. Provided (replyed he) you do not requireme to discard that which you think makes me serious; I find my selfincli••nable to satisfie you, and to regulate my sentiments as you de∣sire.But, Laelius, require nothing further; and not imagine as peo∣pleordinarily do, that you ought to oppose a passion that is grow∣ingin the breast of a friend, and that to encourage it, would be likegiving weapons to one that is frantick. For, in brief, Laelius, I de∣clareto you, that Aemilia, the adorable Aemilia, shall alwayes raignabsolutely in my heart, and that I will wear during my life, thebonds of hers which I find upon me; for they seem to me so love∣ly,so charming and precious, that I esteem them above all theCrowns in the world. Ah! dear friend (added he) I little un∣derstand,and you are still ignorant, wherein consists a true andlively pleasure; since you have not yet resented those motions oftenderness which a fair person excites in our hearts when she sub∣duesthem to her dominion; since you have not resented that livelyjoy, nor those sweet fears which acompanie the love and respectof a passionte heart; and in brief, since you know not that thatwhich is called inquietude, melancholly and musing in a Lover, hasa thousand charmes above those which men at libertie stile solidpleasures.

This subject, Madam, seem'd so pleasing and copious to Scipio,that he would further have pursu'd his discourse, had not one com••to give us notice that Minutius desired to see us. As soon as he wascome into our Chamber, and the civilities were pass'd on all sides;he at first beheld us as if he intended to read our resolutions in ourcountenances; and presently after; what may I expect you will do,Scipio, and Laelius (said he) in this affair? We will do all (answer∣edScipio, that virtue requires us to do; that is, neither Laelius norScipio will engage in a partie against one of the most illustriousHouses of Rome; and you must either perswade Varro to make use

of his for the benefit of the Common-wealth, or unloose your selffrom his interests, to joyn with persons of none but honourable in∣tententions.For, Minutius (continued he) you were a Roman be∣foreyou were Varro's friend, and so you are oblig'd to prefer theinterests of Rome before those of your friend, and even to opposeany wha••soever that goes about to disturb the publique Peace andcommit violences in the City. What you say, is so rational (an∣sweredMinutius) that it would be injustice not to follow your sen∣timents,and therefore I engage my word to you, that Varro shallserve himself of other means to attain the happiness he aspires too.These last words caus'd Scipio to blush, which yet was not observ'dby Minutius; for at the same time he was bethinking handsomelyto change the matter of the conversation, and to speak no more ofa business which was not very advantageous to his friend. And con∣sequently,he fell to speak of many persons of quality whose hu∣mourshe describ'd to us; he also inform'd us of the interests of gal∣lantrywhich he had observ'd in severall parts of the City, and allthis with so much wit and freedom of mind, that we believ'd hewas no longer in suspence and unsatisfi'd. After which Minutius leftus to go to Publius, and I prepar'd my self to go to my father,though Scipio very urgently oppos'd it, and would not permit metill I had promised to attend for him there, to go and pass the after∣noonwith Aemilia, to whose house accordingly we went, wherethe conversation was indeed very agreeable.

'Tis true, Scipio spoke lesser then he was accustom'd; for he fix'dhis eyes so constanly in beholding Aemilia, and his countenance re∣presentedso many tokens of an inward joy which he resented, thatthough I had not known the secret of his heart, yet I should havepossibly suspected something extraordinary by his aspect. Besides,he appear'd so satisfi'd, that I have since wonder'd it was not thenobserv'd he was amorous; for I believe, nothing but the presenceof the person beloved could cause so lively a joy. Not but that hisattention and his joy was often intterrupted by a hundred thingsspoken to his advantage, and of which he was desirous to break offthe continuance, which was a displeasure that befell him at severalltimes; for though Aemilia and the persons that were with her, un∣derstoodthe world perfectly, and were not ignorant, that 'tis some∣thingtroublesome in a companie, when great praises are given to aperson that is present; yet they thought themselves powerfullyconstain'd to extol Scipio, both for that his brave actions were ex∣treamlycelebrated every where, and because they had bin very ad∣vantageousto most part of the persons of qualitie in Rome. IndeedScipio was not so much perplex'd, as he would have bin, if Aemilia,Fabius, Cato and Regulus, had bin that day with Aemilia, they ha∣vingbin witnesses of his glorie, and importunately oblig'd to him.But for that they were gone into the Country, to a House of Papy∣rius's.Scipio was without doubt delivered from a part of his trou∣ble;

and that which hindered him from resenting greater disgust,at what he heard was the civility of Aemilia, and some gentle andobliging words which that fair person express'd concerning him,in mentioning his preserving and rescuing Aemilius: So true is it,that the joy which the person belov'd excites, is pure and extream∣lysensible.

At our departure from thence, I was also constain'd to accom∣panieScipio this night to the house of his father Publius, that Imight here the reflexions upon the fore-past afternoon: But ourconversation was interrupted by the arrival of his young brother,whom Publius had sent for from Greece; so that we could nothave time then to speak of Aemilia. But, Madam, admire I be∣seechyou, the capriciousness of fortune. The young Scipio seeminga lovely and sprightly youth, I began to set upon him, and toldhim the Ladies and the Carthaginians would have no great cause tobe glad of his arrival. For if I be not deceived, (continued I)you have an aspect that promises you will be undoubtedly both inLove and and War. As for War (answered he) I shall betake myself to that assoon as I can; for I conceive at first, there is no morerequired then to obey: But for Love, I shall defend my self fromit a long time; for besides that, 'tis a troublesome thing to be in∣tangledin, I think I am yet to seek how to manage it. The matteris not so hard as you believe (replyed I) smiling) for love has aTorch to give light to those that acknowledge his Empire. ThatTorch (answered he) gives light to few persons; for I have seenthis day in the house of Papyrius by which I pass'd, two friends ofyours, who have great endowments of wit and capacity, and yethave need of the light you speak of; they were Fabius and Cato, ofwhich the first is in love, and the other is his Confident, But itwas reported Fabius was so wise a Lover, that he never appearedpassionate, and yet he was charg'd this morning for having suffer'dthe secret of his heart to be known at Papyrius's house, without everhaving given the least intimation of it to Aemilia, who is the personhe loves

And as for Cato, he was sufficiently play'd upon with rallery, forbeing the confident of a passion which he condemns, and intermed∣lingin the carrying on of an affair of which he understands not theperplexities and the pleasure; and that kind of address which is on∣lylearnt by experience. And indeed he declar'd that he had no ge∣niusfor things of this nature; but he believ'd he might promotethe success by mediating with Lucius, to accord the marriage of Fa∣biusand Aemilia. For marriage (added he) being an affair, andthat very important, I conceive I should have done no dis-serviceby intermedling in it. Thus, Laelius (proceeded he) you see in whatmanner this Torch gives light, or rather how love oftner lends lo∣vershis fillet to bind them, then the light you speak of to directthem.

Whilst the young Scipio was speaking thus, his Ilustrious Bro∣ther

turn'd away his head, that he might not discover the commo∣tionof his countenance. But at length, desirous to understand thematter more fully: How? brother (said he) is Fabius amorous ofAemilia? Yes, brother (answered he) and if you have any interestin the case, you may direct your course accordingly. As Scipio wasgoing to reply, Publius enter'd the Chamber, so that the discoursewas wholly broken off; & Publius began to express himself in muchtenderness to his young Son, who did the same with testimony ofrespect and reverence to his father. A little time after, my fathercame to see the brother of my illustrious friend, and taking me a∣wayhome with him, Scipio was depriv'd of the hope he had to tellme his sentiments upon what his brother had related of Fabius's love.

The next day indeed he came to me after dinner, when the Ce∣remonyof an Alliance made between our Republick and Pineas,King of Illyria, was to be seen in the Capitol that day; yet we mustomit that to go see Aemilia. But going at night to Publius's house,whither Scipio made me to accompany him, we learnt but too ma∣nyparticularities; for Publius told us with a satisfi'd and smilingcountenance, that Illyria was become tributary to Rome. And I wish(continued he) you had seen the Ceremony of the Alliance wehave made with Pineas. It is to be wondered (said I to him) that aPrince of such accomplishments and courage should do what youhave told us. Lucius has so great a power over his mind (answer∣edhe) that he could have made him do other things then this. How?My Lord (said Scipio) has Pyneas made this Alliance so advantage∣ousto Rome onely by the influence of Lucius? There is nothingmore certain (answered he) and I shall amaze you more when Ihave recounted you what passed in the Capitol not above an hour ago. Know then (continued he) that after the ceremonies were end∣ed,Pyneas desired Lucius and me to stay till all the crowdwas gone; where being without Witnesses, Pyneas walkedsome time with us without speaking, and at length stop∣pingto consider that admirable stature of Romulus, which standsat the end of the great Hall of the Capitol, he read the Inscriptionupon the Pedestal, upon which he blushed and sigh'd, and then be∣holdingus, with an air sufficiently sad; My Lords, (said he to us)do not believe I have done what you have seen out of weakness ortimerousness; 'tis a more noble inducement that makes me to act so,and have not made this transaction but onely because—he stoptafter these few words; and then resuming his discourse. Ah, MyLords (pursued he) I know not well what I say, but my hand morebold then my tongue, shall better express to you the sentiments of Py∣neas,& let you know for what reason he makes himself tributary tothe Romans. And you shall see with this illustrious witness (proceed∣edhe, addressing to Lucius, and pointing to me) whether the mannerin which I have acted, be unworthy either of Lucius or Pyneas. End∣ingthese words, he drew a Pastil out of his sleeve, and returning a∣gainto the stature of Romulus, writ something under that which he

had read; after which again addressing to Lucius, Read, My Lord(said he to him) read, and you you will see that Pyneas is more ca∣pableof elevation then of lownesse.

After these words, he intimated to us, that he could no longerbe there with us; so that after he was gone forth, we approachtthe Statue, and read with surpize what the King of Illyria had writ∣ten.You know there are under that admirable statue four Verses,which several Nations judge too haughty; yet their loftiness is insome measure pardonable, being grounded upon certain predicti∣onswhich have been made to the advantage of Rome. But the bet∣terto make you comprehend how ingenious the manner was where∣withPyneas express'd his sentiments, in which are altogether re∣markablethe handsomness of his wit, the greatness of his courage,and the violence of his love, I must put you in mind that the fourVerses I speak of, and which seem to be spoken by Romulus, areconceiv'd in these termes:

My City shall rule over Land and Sea,And fill all parts with awe;And all the Cities of the world one dayShall hence receive their law.

The King of Illyria, to shew that he had onely done that in refe∣renceto his love which we had lately seen transacted, and that sohaughty an Inscription had not daunted him, writ these four Versesunder those that I now repeat.

Although it should rule over Land or Sea,And fill all parts with awe,Saw I not there the fairest eyes i' th'world,I'de not receive her law.

You may well judge that Pyneas understands here only the fairAemilia, for he daily resorts to her, as Lucius told me since; and inbrief, 'tis out of respect to Lucius, that he has made this Alliance sohighly to the advantage of the Commonwealth; so that Lucius te∣stifi'dto me that he had a great obligation to the King of Illyria, andthat he found some inclination in himself to give him his daughter,provided he would bring a powerful succour into Italy. How? MyLord (answer'd I) is it possible Lucius can resolve to marry so faira person out of Rome? It appears, Laelius (interrupted he) that youare still a young Roman; that is, that you have courage indeed, butnot yet a compleat soul, since you are capable of wondering a manshould marry a fair and dear daughter into a forrain Country, andsacrifice her to the interest of his Country.

As he ended these words, and it was already late, we all retyr'd,and Scipio was deliver'd from the trouble of hearing the conti∣nuationof so cruel a discourse. And after having sup, he madea reverence to Publius, and ascended up to his Chamber, pretend∣ingto have some business to do there. You may judge, Madam, that

I did not desert him, and that he did not fail immediately to tell meall his sentiments. Alas! Laelius (said he to me) I knew I shouldmeet with more obstacles then you imagin'd. But (added he withvery great sadness) I could never have believ'd it possible, thingsshould conspire so strangely to render me the unhappiest man of theworld. Was ever any thing heard or seen more cruel in the begin∣ningof a passion? 'Tis but three dayes (proceeded he) since I sawthe adorable Aemilia, three dayes since I began to adore her: butin these three days, the dearest of my friends has informed me thatVarro is my Rival, Varro, who is the favourite of the people, andwho by some fortunate rashness may cause an obstacle to my hap∣piness.Yesterday I was with Aemilia, and I beheld that divine per∣sonmore fair and charming, then she had before appeared to me; mypassion received new vigour, and I fastned my chains my self; butupon my leaving that admirable person, it fell out that my dear bro∣theradvertis'd me Fabius was my Rival▪ Fabius, whose birth andmerit place him above Varro. But this is not all; my father,who has an infinite tenderness for me, being yet nearer then a bro∣ther,and dearer then a friend, tells me to day I have a Rival moreto be fear'd then Varro and Fabius; as if fate had ordered the per∣sonsthat are dearest to me, should bring me the adventures whichare most troublesome and tormenting. For in truth, Laelius, I seePyneas is a goodly personage, I know he is indued with wit, andI have heard say, he has very much courage too, and a soul full ofhigh and noble sentiments; But yet I see above all that I have men∣tioned,that he makes all things submit to his passion, and gives afair proof of it, such as can be given onely by Kings, and those veryamorous. But, Scipio (said I to him) do you know that the Kingof Illyria loves Aemilia, and that 'tis she possitively that he meamsin his Verses? Can you doubt it? Laelius (interrupted he) and couldPyneus better express himself then by mentioning the fairest eyes inthe world? besides, could he have given for any person but Aemi∣liaso important a proof of his love? Would he have addressed toLucius in doing all the passages we have heard my father relate?No, no, Laelius, it must not be doubted, and I see clearly enough,my hard fate raises me up new Rivals every day, and new obstacles.Not that these Rivals and obstacles can make me renounce the loveI have; but on the contrary, I feel it augments in my heart, and pre∣sagesI shal do things which perhaps my Rivals will not. In the meantime, to neglect nothing, it is requisite we retire, and either of usseek ou•• means which may make me prosperous in that which Idesign; to the end to morrow morning, according to your senti∣ments,or my own, I may resolve what course to take to surmountwhatever shall oppose it self to my happiness.

The End of the First Book.

Scipio to Appius.

I Came to your house to impart to you an affair of very great importance,but not finding you within, and it being probable I shall need you thisnight, I left this note to intreat you to be in a posture of issuing forthwell accompanied, if you hear a bustle near the Palace of Lucius, and tocome to my aid, if I find too great resistance there, which yet in all ap∣pearanceI shall not do.

that he could not speak with him; but when at his going outof the house he beheld the stately Palace where the adorable Aemi∣lialiv'd; this fight not onely dispell'd his trouble, but inspir'd himwith a very sensible joy. But the aspect of the person lov'd, cau∣singone incomparably greater and livelier, Scipio awaited impati∣entlythe hour in which he might see the fair person he ador'd, andaccordingly went to her house to pass the afternoon with her; buthe was surpris'd when the Porter of Lucius told him Aemilia was goneforth with Claudia, and that by all conjecture they would not re∣turnhome till night.

The amorous Scipio heard not these words without regret, andbeing not able to remain longer without seeing Aemilia, he pre∣sentlyresolv'd to go seek her in all places whither he judged shemight be gone. But this transport being over within a few moments,he conceiv'd it not consistent with decency for him either to go orsend to seek Aemilia, and therefore he bethought himself to sendto inquire for me in all these houses, commanding the slaves whichhe sent into divers quarters to have tydings the sooner of what hedesir'd, that they should pretend I was with Claudia. This was ra∣tionallyenough contriv'd; for it was very usual for Scipio to causeme to be sought out, and not strange it should be said I was withClaudia, at whose house I was almost every day, as I have already toldyou; so that by saying confidently I was with her, it might be con∣fidentlydemanded whether she were in the places at which I wassought for. Nevertheless, all this diligence prov'd unsuccessful;and which was more perplexing, Scipio understood that not onelyClaudia and Aemilia were not gone abroad at all that day, but alsothat Minutius had pass'd the afternoon with them at their house:for a slave whom he caus'd to watch about the Gate till they shouldreturn home, to the end he might come presently and give him no∣ticeof it, told him that he did not see them enter into the house,but beheld Minutius come forth from thence towards night. Wemus'd a long time concerning this adventure; but all we could ima∣ginethereupon, serv'd onely to perplex Scipio, who came at lengthto believe that Varro had devis'd some means to win the mind ofClaudia, and that Minutius perhaps went thither to treat of an affairon which this passionate Lover could not think without being en∣rag'd.Yet he did not cease his former course of sending slaves fromtime to time towards Lucius's Palace; but he onely learnt that atseveral times, many came forth to look them in the faces and observethem.

But Scipio made no great reflexion upon this last circ*mstance, bothbecause he believ'd it was the custom to take notice of such personswho in the night time pass and repass several times before the samehouse: but when he considered that Lucius's Porter had as∣suredlyspoken by Claudia's order, and that in all appearance, it wasonely for Varro's interest, he resented a greater passion then I amable to give a name to, much less to describe. He passed the night

of Aemilia, nor to examine whether the Matches propound∣edto her be advantage or not. But as to satisfying you how I havebin informed, I desire to be excused; to morrow you shall seewhether I deport my self with as much discretion and moderationas is requisite in a person of my age and sex. Besides, to tell yousome of my sentiments, I take no pleasure in speaking of a thingwhich I shall endeavour to forget, as well for that I still acknow∣ledgemy self obliged to Scipio in the person of Aemilia, as wellfor that I am still sensible of much esteem and kindnesse towardshim. But Laelius (added she, as she was going from me) contentyour self with what I have said, and be pleased to require no morefrom me.

Leaving me these words, I was constrained to go away from herhouse, which I did, so surprised and sad with what I heard, that Sci∣pio,who expected me with an extream impatience, cryed, assoon ashe saw me. Ah! Laelius, your aspect speaks some great unhappi∣ness,but in the name of the Gods (added he) declare the matterwithout concealment, to the end I may appease Aemilia's mind, ifshe be incensed against me for any cause I am ignorant of, or thatI may dye if that adorable person forbid me evermore to seek her.Aemilia is not at all incensed against you (answered I) but I knownot whether it would not be better she were so, and I had not thatto tell you which I am going to relate. Speak it out then, Laelius,(interrupted he) speak it confidently; and since the adorableAemilia is not incensed against me, you shall see I will suffer withsufficient moderation whatever you have to tell me. I wish it proveso (answered I) but I have not much hopes of it. For, to tell youthe matter really as it is, that having a true knowledge of the mis∣chief,you may seek the necessary remedy; I have onely to recountto you the discourse I lately had with the Mother of the IllustriousAemilia. And accordingly after this, I recounted to Scipio in fullI had heard from Claudia; whereupon this passionate lover suddenlyinterrupting me. Ah! Laelius (cryed he sorrowfully) Varro is thenagreed with Claudia: you had indeed reason to say, that it were bet∣terAemilia were incensed against me, provided Claudia were not inthe manner she is. For my innocence would have soon appeasedthat fair person, whereas the too great severity of Claudia wouldlisten to what you had to say in my justification. Oh Gods! whocould have believed the best intentions should have been followedwith the worst success. Alas! (continued he with the same air)who could have believed that Scipio, wholly possess'd with zeal andrespect, should come to see himself the most unhappy person in theworld, because he had the best intentions? and that a violent andunjust man should come to the point of seeing his crimes Crown'd,and receiving a recompence for them so glorious, that the most am∣bitiousof men would not dare to claim after the most importantservices and heroical actions? But on what do I amuse my self (con∣tinuedhe, after a reflexion of some moments, upon what he had

about to relate to you all the expressions of this Illustrious Lover.I could not wholly gain his mind; he was strangely inquieted, andfound no intervals of being so: but when he judg'd it convenienttime to go to Aemilia; Let us go, Laelius (said he to me, let us gojustifie our selves, and make it manifest, that if our innocence bepersecuted, at least it deserves not to be unhappy. But, Scipio (an∣sweredI, observing his countenance extreamly alter'd) I conceiveyou are not in a condition to go and reason with Claudia. How?Laelius (interrupted he) can you be so unjust, as to hinder me fromgoing to Claudia? No, no, Laelius, I must go; for I conceive an ac∣cusedperson gives no great testimonies of his innocence, when heavoids the presence of the person that accuses him. But, Scipio (re∣plyedI) if you cannot contain your self from going to Claudia, con∣sider,I beseech you, that you ought not in the condition you arein, to expose your self to the danger of being seen by Aemilia; forthe air of your countenance is apparently changed, and the effectsof love, jealousie, grief and choller, are easily legible in it. It mat∣tersnot Laelius (answered he) I must see Aemilia, and I conceiveit not necessary to shew her a calm and serene mind, provided Imake her see an innocent heart. But, believe me, Scipio, (replyedI) methinks 'tis a pleasure to appear before a fair person whom welove, with a gallant and amiable air, and I conceive it not very ad∣vantageous,to shew her a countenance wherein appears nothing butinquietude and fierceness, but the first wholly sullen and sad, andthe latter gloomie and clouded. But, Laelius (answered he) I amcapable of all things when I am to see Aemilia; I will inforce my self,I will compose my aspect; and if you discern inquietude and fierce∣nessin it, you shall at least perceive nothing of sadness and discon∣tent.

At length, Madam, whatever I could urge more to this passionatelover, he was resolved to go to Claudia's house, and see the fair per∣sonhe ador'd, evidencing to me that no attraction is more powerfulthen that of a person whom we love. But when we arrived there,we found all we had unprofitable; for instead of finding eitherClaudia or Aemilia, it was told us they were gone into the Countryin the morning; but whether, or when to return, we could not beinformed. Scipio received this answer like a stroke of Thunder;and beginning to think Aemilia was no longer in Rome, that greatCity suddenly seem'd to him turn'd into a vast desart, and he became infinitely more perplext and afflicted then he had bin ever be∣fore.He then was minded to go and walk upon the Rampants, ima∣gining(as I apprehend) there was some satisfaction in beholdingthe campagne, and some pleasingness in breathing the air of theCountry, whilst Aemilia did so too. But this contentment lastedbut a little space, for he no sooner considered that perhaps himselfwas the cause, however innocent of Aemilia's departure, but he be∣cameexteamly afflicted: upon which addressing to me, in relationto his thoughts: Ah, Laelius (said he to me, sighing) this last un∣happiness

would have had something more insupportable in it thenthe other, if I had contributed to it, although I have done nothingbut what I ought to do. For, let Scipio suffer the injustice which isdone him, let him sigh and be miserable; this is capable of makingme complain, and even of making me lose part of my reason; ne∣verthelessmy grief is in some manner comforted, when I consi∣der'tis for the adorable Aemilia I suffer these miseries. But my tor∣mentis incomparably greater, when I behold that divine person herself suffer, when I see her enforc'd to leave this fairest City of theworld to go into solitude, and consider, that perhaps Scipio is thecause of it. Did Aemilia suffer what you mention, as an unhappi∣ness(answered I) you would have cause to afflict your self; Butperhaps you are injurious to your self, and at the same time yousigh, Aemilia is amongst divertisem*nts, enjoyes the delights of theCountry, breathes the air with sweetness, hears the birds with plea∣sure,admires the enamel of the Meadows, and perhaps also plea∣sesher self in observing the innocence and simplicity of the per∣sonsthat make their usual abode there; so that instead of lamentingher self, she is perhaps ravisht with having left Rome for a time.Ah! Laelius (cryed he) to what end do you tell me all these fancies?How? (interrupted I) can you blame me for telling you the personyou love is not unhappy? You ill construe my zeal; you ought atleast to consider that what I spoke was onely to satisfie, since I re∣presentedto you that Emilia was already tasting the pleasure whichshe is not yet in a condition capable of what would you have medo. Laelius (said he, sighing) I am unjust in blaming you, and de∣siringAemilia were not perfectly happy at this hour: but, Laelius,I am amorous, and therefore you ought not to wonder at the ex∣travanganceof my sentiments; but you may know, that thoughI am not lov'd by Aemilia, and dare not hope to be so, yet 'tis somepleasure to me to think she is afflicted by leaving a City in which Iam; and I should certainly resent great torment in imagining shewere now injoying all the pleasures you have mentioned. In since∣rity,Scipio (answered I) your sentiments are admirable well regu∣lated,since in the beginning of our discourse, the affliction alone ofEmilia caused yours, and now you tell me you should not be satis∣fiedif Emilia were not afflicted, and that your self would be sensi∣blyafflicted if she injoy'd contentments.

Have I not already told you, Laelius (replyed he) that I am a∣morous?Why therefore do you, (who are not) require reasons,where in the jugdement of men that are free, there is nothing to befound but fancies. Nevertheless (added he) you would easily seethat I have reason to apprehend things so differently, if you wouldconsider the diversity of grounds I have to do so; and you wouldalso better perceive that you ought not to wonder, if in the deplora∣blecondition I am in, I afflict my self with all things. I had rathersee (answered I) your mind a little more at quiet, and that to inter∣mitafflicting your self in thinking on Emilia; you would pass the

rest of the day with a fair person to whom I shall lead you. Ah!Laelius (replied he) my afflictions too much preferable to the di∣vertisem*ntwhich you propose to me.

Consider, I beseech you (answered I) that even for the interestof your love, you ought to go to some meetings, least your absencefrom thence during that of Aemilia, give cause of suspition to con∣jecturethe passion you are possessed with. I should give more cause(replyed he) if I resorted thither; since I should begin to do it on∣lyafter Aemilia's departure; that is, when I can no longer see thatfair person at her own house. But (said I to him) the City being ex∣treamgreat, I would lead you into a quarter, where it is not knownthat you have bin a constant frequenter of Aemilia. Then 'tis un∣profitablefor me to go thither to hide my passion (answeredhe.) Wherefore, Laelius, you ought not to urge me upon the pre∣textyou alledge, but rather be so complacential to take the airehere with me a while, and talk a moment longer concerning the a∣dorableAemilia.

Thus, Madam, I was constrain'd to walk still with Scipio, andentertain my self with him about the charmes of Aemilia. But atlength it growing late, and time for us to retire, we beheld two ve∣ryhandsome Horses passing into the City at the Gate Capena, whichwere lead by a servant. Scipio had no sooner cast his eyes upon thefirst which was a dapple Gray, and had a very rich and remarkableSaddle on his back; but he knew to whom it belonged; so thatlooking upon me and changing colour; That's Minutius's Horse(said he) himself cannot be far of; surely he accompanied Aemi∣lia;and that which yet more troubles me, is, that Minutius wouldnot ride in on horse-back, which circ*mstance undoubtedly con∣cealssome mistery.

As he was speaking these words, we perceiv'd Minutius indeed,who was with one of his relations, named Metellus, and was intruth very much troubled to meet us when he so little expected it.Which Scipio observing, you must acknowledge, Minutius, thatyou are much surpris'd in meeing us, where in probability we werenot to be look't for. Yet I am not at all (answered he, affecting notto seem so) and certainly I know few things that are able to surpriseme. I know some (replyed Scipio) that will not surprise you, andparticularly the departure of Aemilia; for I conceive no man is sur∣prisedwith a thing he is not ignorant of, but on the contrary knowseven to the least circ*mstances. True (answered Minutius, verymuch more perplexed then before, believing Scipio better inform∣edthen indeed he was) Emilia's departure has not surpriz'd me,because I knew of it, and moreover accompanied that fair person.You declare this last circ*mstance very ingenuously (replied Scipio)for one that intended to conceal it by entering a foot into the City,and who having accompanied so fair a person, ought rather to haveentered as triumphant. But after all, Minutius (added he) youare too much Varro's friend to be Emilia's lover; wherefore love,

that affects mysteries, having no share in what we see you do, youmust needs be too something too much Varro's friend, as I said,and perhaps you come from doing things for him which you wouldnot willingly give way to be inquir'd into. You may inquire whatyou please (answered Minutius roughly) provided I serve myfriend, I shall little trouble my self with what you judge of it. Per∣haps,Minutius (replied Scipio) it would be well for you I had notat all examined the matter, for you would not then (added he fierce∣ly)have bin brought to make the experiment that Scipio is as littlecapable of suffering, as doing an injustice. Your self shall experi∣ence(answered Minutius) that if I know how to render a serviceto my friends, I better know how to maintain what I do for them.Let us by that f••rthwith (interrupted Scipio impatiently) since Iam with my friend, and Metellus with you, and there is yet dayenough left to do it.

Scipio had no sooner spoke these few words, but Minutius, Me∣tellus,and my self, seem'd ravisht with joy; so that all four goingsome distance from the City, and having found a place that wassecret enough, and very fit for our purpose, we presently drew ourswords and began to close: I shall not particularlize this Combate,but; but I cannot omit to tell you, that I never beheld any manmore sprightly, fierce and amiable then Scipio seem'd to me, whenhe approach'd Minutius with his sword in his hand. I could not ob∣servewhat he did afterwards, because Metellus and I were present∣lyengag'd. But some moments after, having bin more fortunatethen Metellus, whom I wounded in two places, and passing uponhim seiz'd the gards of his Sword, without receiving more thenone slight hurt from him; Scipio came up to us to separate us. I looktupon him to see in what condition he was, and beholding the bloodflow from his Arms; You are wounded (said I to him) yes, Laelius(answered he) with a cheerful, yet something fierce aspect; butwithal, losing time (added he) let us go succour Minutius who hasbin more unfortunate then I. We immediately therefore went toMinutius whom we found lying on the ground, and dangerouslywounded by a thrust through the body, and two others not so dan∣gerous.

Metellut, who well knew the valour of his kinsman, was strange∣lysurprised to see him wounded in this manner; so that beholdinghim attentively, he consider'd his overcome with admiration.

Thus this victory was not without glory to Scipio, for Minutiusis one of the most valiant men in the world; and had he then hadthat prudence he afterwards learnt under the great Fabius, after thatoccasion of his fighting. Hannibal contrary to the advice of thatDictator, he would have bin a very gallant man; but he was thenof an humour too violent, and because he and Varro were by theirintrigues, and a certain fortunate fierceness rais'd to the most impor∣tantcharges; they believ'd they should have the same success in allsorts o•• enterpises, Yet matters did not always fall out as they ex∣pected,

to have receiv'd concerning Scipio's design. If she favourably ac∣ceptwhat I offer her, I shall be gloriously recompenc'd for it, withthe possession of the charming Aemilia: for as soon as ever I havedrawn a consent that will make me happie, I will challenge Scipio,to which honour indeed will seem to oblige me, but 'tis my lovewhich will really constrain me more powerfully, to the end I mayeither rid my self of Scipio, who certainly will soon discover myArtifice and ruine me utterly, or perish my self to avoid seeing it dis∣cover'd.But if, on the contrary, I be badly receiv'd, and my com∣plementbe paid with signs of aversion and contempt, I shall have afair pretext to betake my self to violence. I will speak it aloud,that I am resolved to serve Aemilia, even against her own will; andsince she is wiling to be taken away violently, I will become the ra∣visher,and sooner die then forsake so amiable a person to any what∣soever:and in this case especially, Titus, your assistance will be ne∣cessaryto me. As Titus seem'd going to answer, a Horse-man, whomVarro mistook for one of his own partie, but was one that came a∣loneto this Citie, passed by; upon which Varro fearing he mightbe perceived by others, dismissed Titus back again, and going asideinto a little path, and follow'd by his a••••ndants, gave me libertie tobring you vvith all speed the intelligence I have related. Scipio'sslave had scarce done speaking, but his Illustrious Master, who hadbin a thousand and a thousand times upon the point to interrupthim, was beginning to express his sentiments upon what he hadheard; which he was not able to do at first, they were so tumultu∣ous.It must be confess'd he resented a sensible joy in understand∣ingAemilia was in Ostia, and having discover'd in what manner hewas betray'd; (for, Madam, he learnt nothing from the mouth ofMinutius, who vvas obstinate not to make the lest discovery)but with all coming at the same time to think on the perfidiousnessof Minutius and Varro, and on the adorable person vvho vvas to becarried away by that treachery, his choler became extreamly vio∣lent;and this last passion having something more impetuosity thenthe other, seem'd alone to possess him. Ah, Traytor! (cryed he)ah perfidious! is it thus that thou betrayest me? Is this the coursethou takest to attain the possession of the fairest person in the world?No, no. Traytor, thou shalt never have the success thou promisestthy self, and the Gods who have lately by mine arme punished thycomplice, do not now discover thy crime to leave it with impunitie.But, let us not lose time (added he in an impetuous manner) let usgo; or rather fly, to punish the Traytor, since the concernment is toserve Aemilia.

Ending these words, he took his sword, and without remembringthat he was not absolutely cured of his wound, caused one to con∣ducthim to Claudia's house, at the Gate of which we found sevenor eight men with arms: Who, indeed, were Varro and his compli∣ces,and, as we vvere informed afterwards, stood there expectingTitus's answer, vvho vvas gone to advertise Claudia of their arrival,

and of the cause that brought them; This infamous wretch havingalready spoken against Scipio all that the blackest perfidiousnesscould inspire him with, my illustrious friend did not stay to delibe∣ratewhen he beheld those people at the Gate, but drew his swordand couragiously set upon them. Are you here, traytor Varro (cry∣edhe with a fierce and menacing tone) are you run upon the pu∣nishmentof your crime? Yes, I am here (answered Varro inso∣lently)to your unhappiness, who come to punish your self for theattempt you were preparing to commit. These words so augment∣edScipio's choler, that he cast himself upon his enemy with suchviolence, that he wounded him the first pass he made at him. Varro,who was so far from being pusillanimous, that he has bin alvvaiesaccus'd of rashness, was not dismaid at this on-set; but on the con∣trary,being of a violent temper, grew inrag'd, and omitting the ne∣cessarycare of guarding himself, sought to dispatch Scipio withone violent thrust; So that Scipio was also wounded. But his heartbeing perfectly the heart of a Hero, and that of Varro the heart ofa Lyon; Scipio wounded him deeply in three or four places, andvvas onely slightly hurt himself in tvvo: for though he fought vvithmore love, more impetuosity and choler, yet he fought too withmore judgment; so true it is that the valour of Scipio cannot beproportionably describ'd, having something in it too great, and tooextraordinary to suffer it self to be comprehended. In the meantime, Madam, our enemies being well arm'd, and stronger in num∣ber,we had perhaps at length bin worsted, although Varro was al∣readywith-drawn from the combate, because our Host, who hadguided us thither was wounded, and so was Scipio's slave, and I hadreceiv'd one wound in the body, and another in the arm. We hadbin worsted, I say, if an inhabitant of Ostia, who came to the be∣ginningof the fray, had not called a great multitude together tohis assistance to separate us. But, Madam, I still tremble when Ithink that at this time the perfidious Titus came forth fromClaudia's house, and seeing Varro all cover'd with blood, who madeno longer resistance; and withal, perceiving by the light of the Tor∣chesthat were brought, Scipio's sword glittering in his hand, whichcarryed death or dread on all sides; this villain, either to revengeVarro, or not to be discover'd, resolv'd to kill this great person;and accordingly went behind him to run him through the bodie, ifthe Inhabitants of Ostia I mention'd, had not bin near enough theTraytor to stop him. But he could not so well with-hold his arm,but that notwithstanding that obstacle, the inraged wretch run himwith a deep wound into the back.

Now when the Inhabitants of Ostia had wholly separated us, andScipio's slave, who beheld that action of Titus, had requited thetraytor with a great wound too, our Host, who was not dangerouslywounded, took care of us, and caused us to be carryed to his house,where he sent to seek the Chyrurgions who attended on us before,Scipio and I were desirous to be in the same chamber where this Il∣lustrious

Roman, in the first place demanded news concerning ourHost, and seem'd very well satisfi'd when he understood he had re∣ceivedonly a slight wound in the left arm. Then the Chyrurgionssearched our hurts, and told us they were not mortal, though wejudg'd by their countenances that they were very dangerous. Afterwhich having given them the first dressing, they caus'd our Host toenter into the chamber, who presently approacht towards Scipiovery respectively, and thank'd him for his goodness in remembringhim. 'Tis I am to thank you (answered the Illustrious Scipio) foryour assistance; but since it has pleas'd the Gods (added he) thatyou have not bin considerably wounded; I must desire you to dome an other service, in which there is neither danger nor difficulty,and which nevertheless is of no small importance to me. Gotherefore (continued he, observing the man expected only his com∣mands)go to Claudia's house, tell her she is abused, and that Var∣rois culpable, and I innocent. Moreover, tell her, that—But, no,(recollected he suddenly) I should lose too much time in recountingto you Varro's treachery; go, tell her onely what I have said to you,and assure her that I am ready to justifie both the one and the o∣ther.

After Scipio had given this Commission, he commanded theslave I told you of, should come to him, having resolved to sendhim at the same instant to Claudia's house, there to convince Titus,and wholly discover the perfidiousness of Varro. After which, thisIllustrious lover addressing to me; Well, Laelius, I am satisfi'd(said hetome with an air that spoke him really to be so, notwithstand∣ingthe great wounds he had received.) I am satisfied (said he)since the adorable Aemilia is now ready to understand the differencethere is between the procedure of Scipio, and the perfidiousness ofthe Traytor that would destroy me and carry her away. So thatLaelius, whether I die or be cured, I shall receive either fate with∣outexcess of sorrow or satisfaction. For when I consider I am up∣onthe point to ap••ear in Aemilia's mind such as I am, I resent a joyso sensible, that it effaces all other thoughts of whatever importance.Scipio pronouncing these words something loud, by reason of hispassionate expressions, the Chyurgions who were retir'd a whileto leave us to our rest, heard his voice; wherefore they returned pre∣sently,and entreated him with many reasons and importunities toforbear speaking, which Scipio promised them, because he had thenno cause to neglect his life, or rather because he thought to findmore sweetness in thinking on Aemilia, especially at the same timehe conceived she was receiving the information of his innocence.As he was musing upon this with extream satisfaction, our Hostentered into our Chamber with a countenance which shewed suf∣ficientlyhe had not succeeded well in the Commission enjoyn'd him.Scipio was at first so surpris'd at it, that he seemed struck dumb withamazement; but he was very sensibly afflicted when he was toldClaudia would receive no message nor hear any thing from him, and

that she was gone to offer Varro both her house and all kind of as∣sistance.How? (cryed he) is it possible that Claudia would hearnothing that Scipio sent to tell her, and that she is gone to offer bothher house and all sort of assistance to Varro, who betrayes hers toVarro, who at the same time that he receives her civilities, has de∣signedto carry away her adorable daughter? But, Varro, thy false∣hoodshall soon be discovered (continued he) as if Varro had binpresent) and things shall soon be told Claudia in thy presence, whichshall prove thy attempt and Titus's infidelity. Yes, Varro (addedhe) thy crime shall soon be known, thy accuser shall be a witnessethat both saw and heard thee, and who shall so exactly lay openthe circ*mstances of thy perfidiousness, that thou shall not dare todisown it, though thou seest thy self accus'd by a slave, and a slaveof thine enemy, and thy rival.

As Scipio ended these words, he that he had sent to call the slavehe was speaking of, entered our Chamber, and told him he couldnot find that slave, nor so much as hear any tydings of him. Scipiohad no sooner heard these words, but lifting up his eyes to heaven,compleat my destruction, cruel destiny (cryed he) and seek notout such terrible and extraordinary means to increase the greatnessof my misery.

He had no time to proceed further, for the Chyrurgions hastned torepresent to him the danger into which this agitation would casthim. I have no more rules to observe (interrupted he impatiently)your assistance is no longer necessary to me, and the wounds youendeavour to cure, afford the least part of the pains that I resent. ButScipio (said I to him, not to suffer him to abandon himself to dis∣pair)the injustice of Claudia will not injure for ever, and we shallwithout doubt find means to make her—Ah! Laelius (interrupt∣edhe, speak not, I beseech you) as you do; accuse not Claudia, Iconjure you: if you see your friend die, yet at least add not to allhis torments, that of hearing you term the Mother of the adorableAemilia unjust. I am not capable of your virtue (replied I roughly)if I esteem it heroical, I also esteem it inhumane; and I conceivethere is nothing more lawful for a miserable person then complaint.Well, Laelius (answered he sadly) let us pitty our selves; but I be∣seechyou let us impute all we suffer to my unhappiness, and not ac∣cusea person to whom we owe an infinite respect. I shall have asmuch respect as you please (replied I) yet at least suffer me to tellyou, that after the esteem you have acquired, and the gallant acti∣onsyou have atchiev'd; Claudia has too lightly given credit towhat was suggested to her to your prejudice. Alas! Laelius (an∣sweredhe sighing) it must be believed, that the esteem you menti∣onis ill grounded, if yet it be true that I have gain'd any; and thatwhat I have done hitherto is little considerable, since a person whocannot be deceived in her judgement, has not bin sufficiently pre∣possess'din favour of me, to be able to resist the first assaults of ca∣lumnie.I might have a thousand things to alledge (replied I) for

you, and against Claudia, but I will not continue a discourse whichI see is prejudicial to your health. Let us speak, I beseech you, Lae∣lius(said he) let us speak of my unhappiness, without accusingClaudia of it, and without taking heed to a health which deservesno longer to be cared for. I answered nothing to whatever hespoke afterwards. But he was transported to call me cruel friend,and to press me with the most affecting language he could use; inwhich nevertheless I resisted him, and refus'd to the most illustri∣ousfriend that ever was, the sole thing I ought not to have grantedhim. Yet my silence caused not his agitations to cease absolutely▪he still complained against that strange medley of infelicities thatbefell him; he set his thoughts a thousand and a thousand times up∣onthe glorious beauty of Aemilia, to render himself more unhappy,in thinking afterwards on the injustice which had injur'd him in themind of that divine person.

Thus, Madam, this illustrious Lover would neither listen to theChyrurgions entreaties nor mine, and was tormented the rest of thenight with such violent troubles, that the next morning the Chyrur∣gionsbegan to affirm there would be no hope of his recovery, ifthe violence of his inquietudes dured some hours longer. But whilehe was in this deplorable condition, and no body was permitted toenter into our Chamber, one came to whisper me in the ear, thatClaudia desired to see him, if it might be without disturbance. Clau∣diadesires to see Scipio? (answered I) Alas! tell me whither or noyou know her so well, as not be deceived, before you speak further.'Tis she (answered the messenger) and I know her so well, that Ican assure you of it, and tell you moreover that an Inhabitant ofOstia leads her, and that she is follow'd by Aemilia, and two orthree of her attendants. Go then (said I to him) and cause her tocome hither; and in the mean time addressing to Scipio, whom Iwould prepare for the joy he was to receive, lest being suddenly sur∣pris'd,he might undergo some more vehement agitation by a con∣trastin his heart, surprising between a joy that would offer to en∣terinto it, and a deep sorrow that would dispute its admission. But,Madam, all I could do was unprofitable: For, besides that, I hadnot time, to speak much, Scipio was so little dispos'd to believehe was upon the point to receive the visit I speak of, that Claudia en∣teredbefore he believed it really. It would be difficult indeed, Ma∣dam,to express to you the condition this Illustrious sick personthen was in: for he had no sooner cast his eyes on the fair personthat followed Claudia, but he seem'd like a man that were on a sud∣dainbrought into the rayes of the Sun, after a long continuance inthe obscurity of a Dungeon. He began to behold Aemilia with somuch intentness, that he forgot, as I knew afterwards, both the trea∣sonsof Varro, and your honour which he received from Claudia. Hedid not so much as remember the wounds he had upon him, and thecondition they had brought him to; in short, he lookt onely uponAemilia, he thought of nothing but Aemilia, and remembred not

any thing but this adorable Lady, with which object his mind andheart were wholly taken up. Yet this did not hinder him from beingextreamly weak and faint, as you may easily judge; so that whenClaudia came near him, and bowed down her head to make him acomplement, he would have enforced himself to return her the ci∣vilitieswhich sick persons that receive visits are usually able to per∣form,but his strength failed him, and all he could do was to be∣holdClaudia, with a certain attention that sufficiently shewed hethought he saw that in a dream which he really beheld. I beseechyou, Scipio (said she to him) consult your generosity before youhear what I have to say to you; and believe, I conjure you, thatif I have done an injustice, I have done it innocently, and in a man∣nerby force. For in truth (contniued she) Minutius, who seemedto me neither your enemy, nor Varro's intimate friend, told me se∣veraltimes, that your resorting to our house was onely to find outsome means how you might bring to pass a marriage of Aemiliawith the Son of Manilius who is your Kinsman. He afterwards cameto tell me of certain Verses which the King of Illyria had written,which testified sufficiently that he pretended to our Alliance, aswhich Lucius himself confirmed to me not long after. This deceiptcame to my knowledge, as I remember, two or three days after thedeparture of Lucius and Pyneas; and as I was wondering beforehim, that some persons belonging to had bin seen passing too andfro a hundred times before our Gate the night before, he took histime to tell me that the pretensions of Pyneas having interruptedyour purpose, you designed to take some shorter course, althoughviolent, to bring your intention to pass. Accordingly, Madam,(continued he) I know that Scipio has engaged five or six of his re∣lationsor friends, which I shall name to you, to assist him in whathe designs.

I know also that he has indeavour'd to gain one of your Do∣mesticks,named Titus; and for an evident proof of what I tell you,behold, Madam (said he to me) a Note that is fallen into myhands, which Scipio writ to Appius, who dwelling near your Pa∣lace,might apparently more conveniently serve him then all his o∣therrelations. After these words he presented me a Note indeed,which I knew presently to have bin written by you, having seenyour Letters many times shewed me by Publius while you were inGreece; at which being greatly amazed, I read it over often enoughto be able to remember the very words of it; which were these,

I came to you to your house to speak with you, concerning a very inpor∣tantaffair, but finding you not there, and perhaps my occasion requiringyour assistance this night, I have left this Note for you, to entreat you tobe in a readiness to issue forth well accompani'd, in case you hear any tu∣multneer Lucius's Palace, and to come to my aid if I meet with resistancethere, which yet in all appearance I shall not.

have served themselves of me, to lay open so detestable a trea∣chery,I am to tell you that I was the person who coming fromRome last night, beheld the conference of Varro, upon the waywhich the circ*mstance of time presently rendred suspitious to me.So that being arrived at home, as I was considering on what I hadseen, I heard a noise about the Gate of this Ladies house, which isbut a few steps from mine, which caused me to run to see what thematter was, and afterwards call my Neighbours to my aid, to partthe fray. At which time I perceived a man whom I called to mind Ihad seen in the conference upon the way to Ostia, going behindyou to kill you; I opposed his purpose immediately, and seiz'd up∣onhis arm; but my zeal proving less powerful then his rage, I couldnot wholly stop the blow which yet did not pass unpunished: forat the same time, a man whom we since understood belongs to you,rewarded him with a great wound through the body. Wherebyjudging by his stroke, that the villain I had seiz'd was one of Var∣ro'spartie, since he that wounded him was in all probability of yours(for, My Lord, I had learned your name, and that of Varro confu∣sedlypronounced in the tumult.) I also caused this man to be sei∣zedwhom I believed belonged to you. And so causing them bothto be put in a place of surety, I hoped to draw from their mouthessome discovery of your quarrel, that I might afterwards acquaintthis Lady with it, or send to Rome to advertise some person ofeminent quality, who might come and acommode it. My designhas very well succeeded; for having brought your slave to giveme information, he repeated to me all the relation which he the lastnight made to you.

After which examining, Titus, concerning the same, he saw him∣selfpressed by so many particular circ*mstances which I laid be∣forehim, that being passed hope of injoying reward of his treason,by reason he has but few days longer to live, he ingenuously con∣fess'dthe truth to me, and excited as great admiration in me of yourdetestation of the crime of Varro and Minutius. You may judge,My Lord, I lost no time; but hastened forthwith to the house ofthis Lady, and declared to her the matter as I had under∣stoodit; upon which she desired to come hither to you, assoonas the astonishment raised by my discourse permitted her. GreatGods! (cryed Scipio then) I render you thanks; after which cast∣inghis eyes upon Claudia with as much joy and respect as he wasable to express in this condition; I crave your pardon, Madam,(said he to her) for having contributed, though innocently, to thecausing of your inquietude. But, Madam (added he) some mo∣mentsafter) wherefore have you taken the trouble to come yourself? could you not have sent some one of your attendants tocome—Alas! Scipio (answered she) how do you treat me? I camewith an extream tenderness to desire your pardon my self, for theinjustice I have done you, to request you to forget it, and tocause you and your friend to be brought to my lodgings,

good and how generous you are, in being pleas'd I should die themost contented of men, by informing me then that the onely per∣sonof the world; for whom—Scipio (interrupted she likewise)I am forbidden to suffer you to speak, lest it be prejudicial to yourhealth. If you prohibite me to speak (answered he) onely for thepreserving of my life, I shall lose it through joy, Madam, provi∣ded,that without losing respect, I may tell you that I die yours.Scipio (replied she) Why will you give me more causes then onenot to hear you? is it, that you would be unjust towards me, be∣causeyou believe I have done you an injustice? Alas! Madam (an∣sweredhe) why will you not hear the most respectful of all Lo∣vers,who never dar'd to mention his passion to you, but when heis dying? And why do you term a man unjust, who adores the on∣lyperson that best deserves the adorations of all the earth? Well,Scipio (said she) I return to Claudia, since you will have it so. Go,Madam (answered he) while this unfortunate person betakes him∣selfto dye, since you will have it so: yet he will not die (added hewith a weak and dying voice, though he inforc'd himself to speak)but after having declared before the fairest person that ever lived,that he dies less by reason of the wounds he has receiv'd, then oflove—He could not finish what he intended to say; love was thelast word he pronounced, which I believe he could not have reachtto, if there had not been infinite sweetness in pronouncing it be∣forethe person beloved.

In brief, Madam, my illustrious friend fell into a swound by ha∣vingspoken after a too passionate manner; for the pittiful conditi∣oninto which he was reduc'd by a great loss of blood, follow'dwith a thousand violent agitations; and the denyal of Aemilia tohear him; though it was after a manner extreamly civil, did not alittle contribute thereunto. That fair person was so affected withthis accident, that she immediately made a great shreek, and testi∣fiedas much sorrow as amazement. After which turning towardsus, as Claudia was hastning to see what the matter was; Ah! Ma∣dam(said she to her) Scipio is dead. Scipio dead! cryed Claudia andI together) O Gods (continued I, casting up mine eyes to heavenwith the greatest sorrow that ever I resented) can you suffer Scipioto perish in so unjust a quarrel? Will you suffer so admirable a lifeto be extinguished in its beginning? and can you think it enoughto shew to the earth but transiently a Haro, whom it seem'd you haddestinated for the most memorable exploits, by the grand qualitiesyou so liberally favoured him with? I continued thus to bewail theinfelicity of my friend, and beseech the Gods for his preservation,not being then able to assist him saving by vows and prayers. Andindeed the Gods in a short space restored him to us, whether it werethat they would not, a work which they had so excusably framed,should be of so little continuance; or would not withdraw so greata prop from the City of Rome, which they protect with a goodness,of which all the world has seen indubitable testimonies during the

war which Hannibal brought into Italy. So the Chyrurgions re∣coveredthis Illustrious person, though with extream difficulty, whoopened his eyes at last after severall cordials, and began to give ussome hope. But when he became capable of well discerningthe objects that were about his bed, he assumed new vigour, by per∣ceivingthe lovely eyes of Aemilia were wet, and that apparentlysome tears had dropt from them. And indeed Claudia and Aemiliacould not without weeping behold such a person as Scipio in so greata danger, and even dying for their quarrel, to whom they had sogreat obligations, and as yet given him no tokens of the gratitudethey pretended to testifie to him. Wherefore they went not forthof our Chamber till they had seen Scipio in as good a condition ashe was in at their coming to him; though Claudia insisted no moreto have us carried to her house, because the Chyrurgions judg'd itunfitting.

Assoon as they were gone, Madam, Scipio related to me the dis∣coursehe had with Aemilia, and then told me he believ'd the reme∣diesappli'd to him would be unprofitable, since it did not pleaseAemilia he fhould live. I cannot, Scipio (interrupted I) suffer thisyour injustice, and without doubt you would not speak in this man∣ner,if you had seen the grief of that fair person. I oberved well(answered he) that by all appearance she had shed some tears. But,Laelius, this does not fully satisfie me, because most certainly she be∣lievedshe bestowed them on my death. Should what you say betrue (replied I) have you any reason to conclude she would nothave you live, since your seeming death caused her to weep? Ah!Laelius (answered he) do not deceive your self, but believe there isa great difference between these two respects, for it is usual enoughto be effected with the death of any whatsoever. But it does notoften happen that any persons interess themselves to contribute to∣wardsthe contented life of others who are indifferent to them. Sothat, Laelius (added he, though he saw I could not approve hisspeaking) Aemilia forbidding me to speak to her of my passion, for∣bidsme also to live; for to tell you in a word what I think, since Iknow you desire I should not speak much, it is an undoubted truththat 'tis impossible I should live without loving Aemilia, or that Ishould live without speaking to her of it; and if she has not the good∣nessto suffer me to do so, then take your measures accordingly (ad∣dedhe) either to preserve my life, or to prepare your self to see meseparated from you by a death, which will without doubt be cruelto me for more then one cause. The Gods will preserve us fromthat unhappiness (replyed I) and I believe moreover Aemilia willnever consent to the loss of an Illustrious Roman, whose crime con∣sistsonely in declaring to her, that one of the most worthy personsof the world dyes for love of her, but for a love so respectful, thathe presumes not to discover it but tremblingly, and when he is uponthe point to dye of the wounds which he has lately received for her,having embraced her interests in the most generous manner that can

be imagin'd. No, no, Scipio, she is too reasonable to carry her cru∣eltyso far as you apprehend; and I pass higher, and believe she is notdispleased that you love her; but for that she make profession of ascrupulous virtue, she judges it not becoming to listen to a De∣clarationof love without endeavouring to impose you silence outof decency. But according to the knowledge I have of her, I be∣lieveshe would have strangely ill-heated any other besides you. ForLadies of great quality and eminent virtue, are very difficult in ad∣mittingsuch discourse as we are speaking of, for that they willnot their hearts should be attaqued by any, being determin'd to dis∣poseof them only according to the pleasure of the persons to whomnature has made them subject. Nevertheless I despair not of successfor you with Aemilia; and if you will promise me to yield to allthings for the promoting of your cure, I promise you I will act notunprosperously with the person you love. Ah! Laelius, if youwould—I have done Scipio (interrupted I) and I cannot sufferyou to speak longer. These last words caused my dear friend to besilent, who was more apprehensive of displeasing me then injuringhis own health, and afterwards suffer'd any course to be taken forhis cure.

Not long after, Madam, an occasion of serving my friendwith Aemilia presented it self. For Claudia her self visited us, anddaily came to see in what condition we were, though she had senttwice or thrice before for the same cause. So that as she was pleas'dfrom time to time to give such orders concerning us as were neces∣sary,her adorable daughter often remain'd near my bed, not ven∣turingto approach that of Scipio alone. Whereby it was easie forme to take my time to speak to that fair person, and to let her knowthat she had really the power of life and death over my Illustriousfriend. You speak not seriously, Laelius (answered she blushing, andI think you doubt not, but your friend would soon be in perfecthealth, if my cares could effect any thing; for in your choosingme for your friend (continued she) you ought so to know, I am any ofsufficient goodness, as to believe that these kind of reproaches cannotbe cast upon me but with injustice. What I have spoken, Madam,(replied I) was in the greatest seriousness possible, and the accidentyou beheld here, not long since leaves no room for the doubt of it.But, Madam (proceeded I) the sequel of it will be much more la∣mentable,& unless you give Scipio some testimonies of that goodnesyou say you make profession of, you wil see him die infallibly with∣ina few dayes, and you will also assuredly see grief will cause me tofollow him. So that, Madam, you must either prepare your self to be∣holdthat misery, or admit the declaration of the most respectful pas∣sionthat ever was resented. Aemilia perceiving I spoke with an air thatsufficiently intimated the correspondence of my words & thoughts,and remembring likewise the extream danger wherein she had seenScipio, appeared a little mollifi'd; but she did not wholly yield, andwould not promise me to permit Scipio to speak of his passion toher. For, I wonder, Laelius (said she) you should be so instant with

me as you are, since a friend is much more obliged to cure his friendof a weakness he observed in him, then a Virgin is to hearkento things which seemliness forbids her to suffer. Neither doesseemliness prohibit you to suffer the passion of my friend (answer∣edI) nor is that passion a weakness, since you, Madam, are the per∣sonthat have excited it, and given it birth in a heart perfectly il∣lustrious.But, Madam (continued I) not to lose time, answer me,but in the name of the Gods answer favourably; Will you sufferScipio to love you, or will you suffer him to die? Alas! Laelius (re∣pliedshe) why do you please your self in afflicting me? and where∣foredo you porpound things to me which I ought not to hear,much less consider which to choose? But, Laelius (continued she)perceiving her answer, deeply affected me, to shew you that I amgood, I will my self go offer my friendship to Scipio, I will withaldesire his, and intreat him to chase away all other sentiments thathe pretends to have for me. And accordingly after these words,this fair person without expecting any answer, went to Scipio, andhaving a while beheld him with blushing and silence, because sheimmediately observed a thousand tokens of his passion in his coun∣tenance;I come (said she to him) to desire a favour of you, Sci∣pio;but in the name of the Gods do not refuse it to me. Ah! Ma∣dam(answered the passionate Scipio) why do you not forthwithcommand the person, that of all the world owes you the most im∣pliciteand perfect obedience? Nevertheless, I will not tell you (re∣pliedshe) what I desire to obtain of you, unless you first promise togrant it.

These words gave Scipio some suspitions, so that he mused uponthem a little; a••ter which suddenly resolving, speak it, Madam,(said she) and if you command me not to cease loving you, with∣outdoubt you shall be obeyed. Well, Scipio (answered she) if Idesire you should love me, would you do that which—Ah! Ma∣dam(interrupted he impatiently) why do you make a questionso cruel to me of such matters? Command, Madam, command(added he transported with his love) and if the business be aboutserving you, I will do things, as infirm as I am, that shall astonish allthe earth. I require none of those great things of you, (answeredshe) I come onely to request you to act with moderation, and tocause you to change the tumultuous sentiments you have for me,into those of friendship. In a word, Scipio, I come my self to desireyour friendship, and to offer you mine. I will none of your friend∣ship(interrupted he roughly) no, Madam, I will none of yourfriendship; I had rather die the unhappiest of all men, and die yourlover, then live with a general esteem, then live with all the honourand glory that can be wished, and live no more but your friend.Yes, Madam, I shall love you during my life with the same ardencyI do; I should even increase the violence of my passion if it werepossibly to be augmented; and I consider all that love you not inthe same measure, as stupid people, without pleasure, without ho∣nour,

attaques of excruciating passions. Scipio, I say, assumed new vi∣gour,and amorously beholding the fair person that began to be fa∣vourableto him; I will live, Madam, since tis your pleasure (saidhe with a stronger voice) and moreover I will live happie, since tisyour pleasure I should live.

As Scipio ended these words, Claudia entered into our Chamber,accompanied with Publius and my father, whom she had sent toRome, to advertise of all that had passed, they were also followedby seven or eight of our relation, who came to testifie their obli∣gingsentiments of our unhappiness. But for that they spoke butlittle, and that too after a manner sufficiently sad. I shall not repeattheir discourse to you. But I shall content my self with intimating toyou, that our ordinary Chyrurgions, with those our friends broughtfrom Rome, having entreated the company to with-draw, they alldid so, and left us to our repose; of which then Scipio began first tobe capable. But, Madam, I am desirous to leave him to take it, asalso to give you libertie to go to yours; for I believe it is extream∣lylate, and that extraordinary watchings are neither agreeable noradvantageous to fair persons.

Laelius here broke off his discourse, and the fair Auditory beheldone another as if they expected whether or no they should desirehim to continue it. But for that they judged, that besides the un∣seasonablelateness of the night, it might be incommodious to Lae∣liusto speak yet longer, the referred they sequel of Scipio's adven∣turesto the next morning: After which they gave Laelius very ob∣ligingthanks, and to shew him some proofs of their attention, re∣flecteda little on the most remarkable passages of the History hehad related to them. Which done, the fair Princess of Hippo gavethe good-night to Nadalia, and having embraced and kissed thatamiable Virgin, retired to her own Chamber, being accompaniedthither by Lelius. The next morning Palmira and Nadalia weremore early then their ordinary custome; and Nadalia being readysooner then Palmira, went to the Chamber of that fair Prinncess,whither they afterwards sent to call Lelius, assoon as they were in acondition to be seen by him. This Illustrious Roman repaired thi∣therimmediately, and knowing with what impatience Palmira andNadalia expected the continuation of Scipio's History, without losingtime he seated himself near these two fair persons, and resumed hisdiscourse in these terms, addressing it again to Palmira.

The relation of our sickness being not that which you desire, Ma∣dam,if you please I shall pass over in silence all the particular cir∣c*mstancesof it, and proceed to tell you, that when we were outof our danger, Claudia, Aemilia, and all our relations departed fromOstia, where they notwithstanding left us, either for that they ac∣countedthe air of that City better then that of Rome, or believedthe numerous visits we should be forced to receive imme∣diatelyat Rome, would be incommodious to us. But before theirdeparture, Scipio had a time of speaking of his passion once more

Laelius to Aemilia.

YOu seem ignorant, Madam, that you do me the greatest displeasurein the world, by indeavouring to make me pass for a wit. For Iimagine, that at such times you think not aright of me, but forget I amsick. For, is there any thing, Madam, more contrary to such a person, thenone that keeps his bed? then one, I say, that suffers onely with regret whathe ought most of all to seek, whose taste is almost continually deprav'd,and cannot sleep when all the world is at rest; and to express his unhap∣pinessin few words, who is unable to come to you? Pity me therefore,Madam, if you please, for this last infelicity, and I shall be undoubted∣lymore satisfied then with your Elegies with me; and for accomplish∣mentof my joy, if you wish me health, wish it me I beseech you, to the endI may speedily be in a condition to visit frequently the most fair, most Il∣lustriousand generous friend in the world.

Scipio to Aemilia.

HOw happy, Madam, should I be, were I but owner of Laelius's wit?for then you would have the goodness to speak of me, and continu∣allyenquire news concerning me; and perhaps you would wish I shouldwrite to you often, or not be so remote from you. But now, Madam, Ihave none of all these advantages: yet if you refuse me them onely be∣causeI love you, I am extreamly joyful to be deprived of them; for Ihad rather have all the passion which enflames me for you, then possess allthe wit of Laelius.

Aemilia to Laelius.

MOst certainly, Laelius, you understand not the consequence of whatyou do, when you write me such agreeable Letters concerning yoursickness; for you expose your self to the danger of making your recove∣ryfear'd; if you must alwayes write in ••his manner, or at least you con∣strainyour friend to read a letter with delight, which contains onely themiseries, which you endure. Write not therefore, I beseech you, in thisstrain▪ since 'tis not just you should afford me contentment while you in∣joynone your self; friendship does not allow it, Laelius, but is so far fromsuffering that difference between us, that it alwaies indeavours to renderthose equal whom it binds. Wherefore as you have too much goodness towish I were sick too, so you are concerned in point of friendship to labour toobtain a health speedily equal to mine: which I wish you, Laelius, and ac∣knowledgefreely to you, that I prefer your conversation before your hand∣someLetters.

You see in what obliging terms Aemilia had the goodness to an∣swerme, and this was the Postscript which she writ for Scipio.

I wish your Illustrious friend a speedy cure. But, Laelius, I wishwith all my heart, that that cure be perfect.

I had not no sooner broken open the seal, but Scipio look'd withextream impatience whether there were an answer in my Letter forhim; but he was sensibly afflicted when he beheld there was none.Indeed he believed at first Aemylia would speak of him in that ofmine, but he soon perceiv'd she did not: upon which his grief wouldhave been insupportable, if the sight of the Characters trac'd bythe faire hand of Aemylia had not given him some contentment, andhe had not receivd'd a little more by the Postscript she had written

then grief had done some days before, and both passionsget even proofs of it as certain as dangerous.

There was also another thing that helped to allay the excessivejoy of our Illustrious Lover, which was, that Lucius and Publiustold him, that for the good of Rome, they had resolved not onelyto defer his marriage, but to keep the matter secret. For I be∣lieve(said Lucius) if you should marry Aemilia to day, we shouldlose the forces of Pynaeas to morrow▪ but you ought not to betroubled at the deferring of a thing you are certain of, which isdone onely to retain a considerable assistance to the State. Scipiowas suprised at these words; but love, joy and hope, suddenlytransporting him, he was upon the point (as he told me after∣wards)to declare to Lucius, that himself would perform actionsthat should repair the loss of the Illyrians. Nevertheless, for thatvirtue always guided that Illustrious Roman, and regulated as wellhis words as action, he suppressed his sentiments, and onely re∣questedLucius to permit that the marriage might be accomplish∣edprivately.

Do you think me capable, Scipio (interrupted the father ofEmilia) to transact in the manner you speak of, an action of lustreand rejoycing; and in which privacy always seems to hide someconsiderable defect? No, no, Scipio, do not except it; I will ne∣veract in that manner; and I would not give Pyneas so just an oc∣casionto complain of me, when the businesse should come to bediscovered. For the King of Illyria might say I had abused himby such a secret carriage of it; but he cannot accuse me of anything whatsoever, when after he has serv'd us, I cause him to be re∣wardedby the people of Rome, and afterwards prepare his mindto suffer your marriage with moderation, by telling him, (as 'tistime) that Claudia propounded it to me before himself declar'd tome openly that he pretended to my alliance.

Thus you see, Scipio, by this course I act as I ought; and is it notenough for you that I promise you Aemilia, since a word passed bya person of my humour, is sacred and inviolable. You see also thatI intend to take my time to temper the mind of a Lover beforewhom I prefer his Rival, and that I act for the advantage of theCommon-wealth, by not depriving it of a powerful aid; for in∣deed,though Pyneas has rendred Illyria tributary to Rome, yet he isnot obliged to supply us with forces, and we have no right to ex∣actany thing of him beyond the Tribute which is imposed upon hisKingdom. But, My Lord (replyed Scipio) can you consider theviolence of my passion without—But, Scipio (interrupted Lucius)can you consider what I have said without yielding to it? and wouldyou direct persons who have very much reason for what they de∣sign,because you have very much love for what you aspire to?These words pronounc'd with an aspect Majestical, though not se∣vere,and that by the person who alone had right to dispose of Ae∣milia,

him; and after having taken care of our wounds by the resistanceof the Chirurgions we brought with us from Ostia, he left us inthe Chamber of Scipio, where that Illustrious Lover and I had thesweetest conversation that ever we had made, speaking of nothingbut the pleasing adventures that had befallen us, and frequently re∣flectingupon the circ*mstances which seemed to augment our fe∣licitie.

The End of the Second Book.

Scipio to Martius.

DId you understand all the power of Love, I could easily justifie myprocedure to you by naming to you the person whom I must see atCarthage; and by that means disco••ering to you the secret of my heart.After which I presum you would not condemn me, but rather pardon theardor which you now reproach me with, though in a very obliging strain,and after the manner which I judg'd as ingenious as it is obliging.

now tell you; you know he is not often mistaken in such affairs,but after having a long time bin the disciple of the famous Archi∣medes,he has had the curiosity to see all the strongest places in Eu∣rope,vvhose scituation he has exactly observed. Besides, his skillnot hindering him from being couragious, he has desired me to per∣mithim to follow me in this occasion, which leaves us no reasonto doubt of the truth of his words. Yet, I have heard the contraryreported (replyed I) to what you are assured of. The persons thenthat inform'd you (answered he) made not the same observationswith Trebellius, since they have not told you that the Bay and Lakejoyning together, the latter is greatly augmented by the flux of theSea, but afterwards decereasing by the ebbe, there is not left waterenough in it to hinder it from being fordeable.

Scipio having added many other things tending to convince me,after all (added he) ought not something extraordinary to be donefor the deliverance of Emilia's brother, and the taking of a Citywhich is not onely the chief of all Spain, but into which many per∣sonsof greatest quality of severall Nations are retired with alltheir wealth, and whatever they account precious? Which being at∣chiev'd,it will not be difficult for us afterwards to reward our Soul∣diers,and gain the affection of the several Nations by gentle treat∣mentsof their Soveraigns or Magistrates which we shall withoutdoubt find in Carthage. This, Madam, was the conversation I hadwith Scipio, concerning the memorable enterprise; after which weparted, and the next morning I took my way to my Ships, as Mar∣tiusdid his to Rome. But not to be tedious to you, I shall proceedto tell you, that Scipio having ordered all things necessary with ex∣treamdiligence, he assaulted that important place three dayes afterhe had taken the resolution to do it. And he observed the same or∣derI mentioned to you. For as I had the good fortune, in spight ofall resistance made me, to enter into the Port of Carthage, and Syl∣lanuswas come in the head of his Troop to assault the walls of itby Land, Scipio some time after the reflux of the Sea, sent us orderto redouble our storm, so to draw the principal forces of the ene∣miesto those parts, and consequently to weaken that by which hedesign'd to gain it. Syllanus and I had no sooner obeyed him, be∣ingseconded by Nasica, and the young Scipio, but our Heroe stand∣ingupon the Lake at the head of the troops which he had chosen;My friends (cryed he with a sprightly and fierce aspect) I shouldbe injurious to you, if I should speak much; words are needless toto men of courage, therefore I shall onely tell you that you are goingwhere your General shall be your company, and the witness of yourvalour. Let us on then, my friends, let us win Carthage; and I pro∣miseyou the taking of this City shall render us Masters of all Spain,make Africa tremble, and crown us with immortal glory. He hadno sooner spoke these few words, but he seized upon a Ladder, andthen casting himself into the Lake, incited by his example a thou∣sandbrave persons to do the same. 'Tis true, he always preceded

have hitherto related; and vve cannot but vvith astonishment con∣sidera change in Scipio, vvhich most certainly is more to be extol∣ledthen the noblest constancy. For scarce vvas Carthage in theRoman povver, and the brother of Aemylia at liberty, but our Il∣lustriousRoman appeared to be a Carthaginian; this young Con∣queror,so fierce, ardent and terrible, becomes of a sudden so gen∣tle,so moderate, and so full of svveetness, that nothing is morecertain then that the Spaniards and Africans began infinitely to lovehim, assoon as they ceas'd to fear him. But they shortly after accom∣paniedtheir love with veneration greater then what uses to be en∣tertainedfor men; which was not without cause, since our Heroe didthings which men are not accustomed to do. No doubt, Madam,you have heard, that the Kings of Celtiberia, and the Illergetes, withthe Queens their wives, being followed by the most considerableof the Spaniards, and five and twenty or thirty fair prisoners, werepresented to Scipio, and received by him with a civility so great,that they resented pleasure in the bitterness of their fortune, andoffered to their Conqueror that which certainly an Emperour of theRomans, or the greatest conqueror in the world ought not to havehoped, and in a word, that which could not be rendred with justiceto any other then our Grand Scipio, who unquestionably shewedhimself perfectly worthy of it, since in the ardor of a most flou∣rishingyouth, he placed himself above the reach of the most vio∣lentpassions, and whatever is most charming in them, especially inan age where the intemperate heat of blood usually favours tumul∣tuouspassions. 'Tis unknown to none, Madam, that our generousRoman would not suffer himself to be proclaimed King of Spain,and answered those that term'd him by that title, He was a RomanCitizen, and that he onely us'd his sword for glory, and the ad∣vantageof his Country. But if the moderation of a Conquerorwas esteemed, who out of a perfectly heroical generosity had refu∣seda potent Kingdom; the Ladies that were Prisoners much moreadmired his virtue, when they found a Protector in a young Con∣queror,and were treated by him with an aspect that gave them as∣surancethat the fairest among them were in absolute ••afety.

Moreover, Liberty was immediately granted to them, as also toall the Spaniards; but it was after such a manner, that without doubtgained their hearts, and so sensibly obliged them, that it may besaid Scipio captiv'd all those which he declared to be free. But scarcehad the Queens rendered thanks to so generous a Victor, but Man∣doniusand Iudibilis, their husbands protested solemnly that theywere not contented only to disengage themselves from the interestof the Carthaginians; but that they gave themselves up intirely toScipio, and were ready to hazard their Lives and States for whateverconcerned his service.

The Spaniards, & the fair Prisoners which were in their train, werewilling also to testifie their acknowledgment, which they expres∣sedin shouts of joy and admiration; and there hapned to be heard

amongst them certain broken speeches in which were confusedlypronounced the names of Scipio,, Olinda, King of Spain, and mar∣riage.But at length all the crowd being withdrawn, Scipio was ra∣vishedwith joy to see himself in a condition, enabling him to expressto Aemylius the sentiments of his esteem and dearness; so that hewent presently to his Chamber, where he embraced him, and en∣closinghim between his arms, manifested to him the excess of joyhe resented by his presence, and by that what sorrow he had endu∣redupon understanding the news of his imprisonment and wounds.After which he mentioned the obligation he had to him, for that inrespect to him, he had chosen rather to serve in Spain then in Italy,complaining withal of that admirable modesty which had constrain∣edhim from discovering to him his intention of coming to his Ar∣my;nor did he omit to speak concerning the quarrel he had hadwith the Prince Pers••us, which he did with an ardency that suffici∣entlyshewed the great interest he took in it.

When he had ended those discourses, he beheld Aemylius aftera manner which signifi'd, that what he was going to speak, was yetmore agreeable then all he had already spoken. Which Emilius ta∣kingnotice of, and beholding the amorous Scipio with an obligingsmile: To answer to your eyes (said he) rather then to the caressesyou have spoken, I will speak concerning my sister, and assure you,that if we are not much obliged to those who esteem our enemies,you are without question not much obliged to Emilia. For as suchenemies alone (continued he smiling again) are contemned who arenot feared, so they seem onely to be looked upon as considerable,that are accounted terrible; and consequently my sister esteems theenemies of Scipio, since she extreamly dreads them. Ah! Emilius(answered this passionate Lover) how happy should I be, if youradorable sister had such an obliging fear! I•• that fear conduces toyour happiness (replyed he) you have no cause to complain of yourfortune, for Aemylia permitted me to discover a certain discontenthe had, which assuredly the interest of Rome alone did not produce,when it was reported there, that the Kings of Celtiberia and Illerge∣tes,were united with the Carthaginians, that the Prince Lucius wasarriv'd in Spain, and that their Armies were extreamly strong.Upon which their united forces seemed to her so formidable, thatverily (added he smiling) if you had had the same sentiments withher, we should not now be making this conversation in New Car∣thagein the manner we are.

He had scarce ended these words, but a Centurion entered withvery much haste; and as he was going to speak to his General, Ientered also, followed with ten or a dozen Officers, who were ac∣companyingme to visit Emilius; and Scipio retir'd to one of theWindows to hear vvhat the Centurion had to say to him; MyLord (said he presently with much commotion of countenance)you have never seen any thing so handsom as what I shall cause you

to see at this present. There are so many kinds of handsomness (an∣sweredthe moderate Scipio, smiling) that it is difficult for me tocomprehended what you mean, unless you speak somewhat moreclearly concerning the thing you intend to shew me. 'Tis, my Lord(replyed he immediately) the incomparable Olinda; 'tis the fairPrincess of the Illergetes; and in a word, 'tis that rare person whomthe Prince Lucius is infinitely enamoured of, and all Spain admires.Yes, my Lord (added he) 'tis that charming Lady whom I havecaused to be put in a place of safety, and I am going to cause her tobe brought to you at this instant. You need only conduct mewhere she is (interrupted the generous Scipio) for it is inconsistentwith decency to give that kind of trouble to a person of her sex,merit, and quality. After these words, he accordingly went whi∣therthe Centurion conducted him, before he so much as causedsome slight wounds he had received to be dressed, which he had neg∣lectedbefore through his ardency to deliver Emilia's, and dis∣coursewith him concerning his divine sister; besides that the greatnumber of prisoners I told you of were presented to him of a sud∣den.

The Centurion had no sooner opened the door of the Hall wherethe Princess Olinda was, but offering to retire he was retain'd byScipio, and caused to follow him; but as he advanced towards thatyoung and handsome person, he perceived she was all alone; uponwhich he suddenly stopt, and instead of approachig to her, retiredafter he had made her a low reverence. At which time he forthwithsent to call some Ladies of Carthage, desiring them to abide withthe Princess of the Illergetes; and taking some Officers also withhim, he entered again and advanced towards her. The youth of theConqueror, and the beauty of the Prisoner would not without que∣stionhave promised the success that was admired in this interview,if Scipio had not bin the Conqueror; but Olinda knowing him im∣medatelyby his goodly aspect, and better by the action he had per∣formedat his entering the first time, she arose up, and went to∣wardshim, offering to cast her self at his feet, not so much for herown interest, being generous enough not to be capable of fear, butto shew all kind of submission to a Conqueror, who by the right ofArms had an absolute power over the King and the Queen of theIllergetes. Scipio presently restrain'd her purpose, and told her af∣teran obliging & respectful manner, that it belonged to the PrincessOlinda to receive such homages from men that approacht her. Iprotest to you, my Lord (answered she) that I would render thatrespect to you less as conqueror of—Madam (interrupted he) ifyou would render it with justice, I shall conduct you towards thepersons to whom alone you owe it. For I am not come, Madam,but to beseech you most humbly, that you would please to pardonthose who apparantly have not treated you with all the cautious re∣verencethat is due to you; I am not come but to declare so you,

that you are not only free, but that you are still Princess of the Il∣lergetes,and to lead you my self to the Queen your Mother, whi∣therdecency and affection require you to go, and whither virtue cer∣tainly,and the respect I owe you, oblige me to conduct you. Olin∣daadmired the high generosity of Scipio, and having made him aremerciment sufficiently expressing her gratitude, and the esteemshe had of the grandeur of his mind, she tendered him her hand,and went accordingly to the Palace, whither the King her Fatherwas retired with the Queen his wife.

Assoon as Scipio had remitted the Princess Olinda into the handsof the Queen her Mother, and received a thousand thanks for it,accompanied with praises and acclamations, he went to the househe had made choise of to reside in, and caused himself to be dress'd,whence afterwards he went to see the Prince of Celtiberia. Luciusimmediately advanced towards Scipio, and without either pride orlowness performed all the honours he judged befitting an IllustriousConqueror, which he never accompanied with that shameful sub∣missionthat she vanquished, who preserve not all their generosityin bad fortune, are wont to express towards those whom the lot ofArms declares their Masters. But the deportment of Lucius evi∣denced,that that Prince had a soul above his misfortune, since theircould not be observed in him that ferocity which is sometimesaffected in like occasions to shew greatness of courage; nor thatlow yieldance, that is often made use of to draw the compassion ofa Conqueror. But if the Prince of Celtiberia's acting in this sort,made it appear that he did not too much remember his defect, thecivilities that Scipio return'd him, shew'd sufficiently that he forgothis Victory. They parted therefore with very much esteem one foranother, after the Illustrious Roman had told the generous Celti∣berianhe was free; but yet he desired him he would defer to makeuse of the liberty he gave him till the next morning. After whichhe retired; and as he was about to dispatch Flavius to Aemilius,and cause a kinsman of Flaminius to depart and advertise the Se∣nateof all that had pass'd, he beheld five or six men enter into hisChamber, the first of which preceded two others which carriedtwo magnificent shields, fill'd, as was soon perceived, with Goldand Jewels. He that was to present them advanc'd, and havingmade a low reverence, told Scipio, that the King of the Illergetes hisMaster, had sent him the ransom of the Princess his daughter, in∣tendingto levy forces in lieu of his own; and venture his life forthe service of an Illustrious Victor who had so generously givenhim it.

You shall tell the King your Master (answered Scipio) that I ac∣cepthis friendship, but not his present; for since I have bin able torestore him a treasure of inestimable value, he ought not to believeme capable to receive that which he now offers me. Ah! my Lord(cryed the Illergete) what generosity is this? After which havingmused a little, he suddenly added, My Lord, I must in brief declare

to you, notwithstanding the concealed interest of my own in thematter, that all the world wishes you would marry the PrincessOlinda, and that you would establish your self King of Spain. I shalltake your proposals into consideration (answered Scipio smiling)and in the mean time you may tell the fair Princess of the Illergetes,that if I have broken her Chains to day, 'tis possible I may fastenthem to morrow with an indissoluble knot.

After these words, the Illergete retired, Scipio dispatcht those heintended to send to Rome, entertained discourse with Aemilius awhile, and so went to his rest. The next morning he was no soonerin a condition to be seen by all persons without distinction, but theKings of Celtiberia and the Illergetes, with the Queens their Wives,followed by Olinda, and causing more magnificent presents thenthose Scipio had returned to be brought with them, entered into hisChamber, and immediately protested they would refuse the libertyScipio had given them, if he would not accept that which theycame to offer him. Scipio answered, that he did not refuse thething of greatast value that had bin offered him, which was the a∣mityof the two Kings. But, my Lord (said the Queen of the Il∣lergetesto him) it is requisite, and that absolutely too, either thatyou receive the ransom which we offer you for Olinda, or that Olin∣daher self resume her fetters. To do yet more then you desire, Ma∣dam(answered Scipio smiling in an obliging manner) I will acceptall that you offer me, and I will consent also that the Princess Olin∣dacease to be free. In ending which words, he whispered to anOfficer, after he had desired the Queens permission; and as he ob∣servedpresently that she of Celtiberia appeared to be very sad, hecomforted her, by informing her that the Prince Lucius was notdangerously wounded. You have seen him then, my Lord, (inter∣ruptedshe presently with much satisfaction) and according to whatyou say, he is your prisoner. 'Tis true, I have seen him, Ma∣dam(replyed he) but I do not agree with you as to the rest, andespecially before the fair Princess of the Illergetes, with whom Ishould be much troubled to have any contest in usurping herrights.

As he ended these words, Lucius entered, and his presence ha∣vingfill'd the Kings and Queens with joy, and caus'd the modestOlinda to blush, also fill'd the spectators with contentment and ad∣miration.But, Madam, it needs not that I should here detain youin particularizing an action all the world has wondered at, evento the least circ*mstances. I shall content my self to tell you, thatthen it was that Scipio made the memorable marriage of Lucius andOlinda, that he gave that Princess all that he was constrained to ac∣cepta little before, that he wholly gain'd the hearts of the Spani∣ards,and fill'd all the earth with veneration of his virtue, as it wasalready fill'd with the fame of his Valour and his Victories. In fine,Madam, I have now spoken of an action that all the Nations ex∣tol,all Painters represents, and all excellent wits write of to con∣secrate

Albinus and Terence could not reasonably expect. But when Scipio,Aemilia, Magasba, Palmira, Laelius, Cato, and the three strangershad passed all the Ceremonies usual in such occasions, the conver∣sationbecame perfectly handsome; and that which rendered itmore agreeable, was, a pleasant piece of Railery between Laeliusand Nadalia. For this lovely Virgin coming to rejoyn with thecompany, Laelius advanced towards her, and presenting Terenceto her without naming him: I do not content my self, fair Nadalia(said he to her) to be your friend; but I desire to make this strangerknown to you, who will soon be likewise that in quality. You as∣surethe matter very confidently (answered she). If persons of thesame Country (interrupted he) have great inclinations to love andkindness, when they meet at distance from it, you ought not to won∣derat what I say. How? (interrupted she again) is this stranger aSpaniard? Yes, Madam, I am so (answered Terence in the lan∣guageof that Nation) and if Laelius do not deceive himself, mybirth will be extreamly advantageous to me. Ah, Laelius (cryed sheimmediately) the accent of this stranger does little agree with yourwords. Nevertheless (answered Laelius smiling) if he be not aSpaniard, yet he is a rare wit, and consequently better deserves inthis latter quality the friendship of Nadalia. Believe him not, Ma∣dam(answered Terence agreably) he deceives you a second time;but if my accent has already disabus'd you, my words shall soon freeyou from the second error. In speaking as you do (replyed she)you manifest that he does not delude me; yet I will not pardon himthe prank he has shewn me in representing you to me for a Spaniard,unless he tells me who you are. That you shall not know (answer∣edLaelius.) Upon which words Nadalia became so impatient, thataddressing to Aemilia, and having observed in the countenances,she beheld little readiness to satisfie her; In the name of the Gods,Madam (said she to her) make me know who this stranger is;whose aspect is so sprightly, and who speakes in so pleasant a man∣ner.I know not (answered the discreet Aemilia) whether you willnot be as much surpris'd as I was, when you are told 'tis the famousTerence that you are discoursing with. Verily, Madam (replyedNadalia) I am extreamly joyful to know so vvorthy a person, andto see that he is not at all disordered; the first time he enters into agreat company where he is infinitely esteemed. I see not that he hascause to be so (answered Aemylia) since he is so esteemed as yousay. But, Madam (replyed Nadalia) be pleased to consider, thereis nothing more troublesome then to go into a great assembly tomake good a great reputation; for if such a person speaks subli••••∣lyhe distasts many of the company; And if he speaks otherwise;without doubt he does not maintain the esteem that was conceivedof him. And this is so true (added she smiling) that if I werefame, I would not excessively commend persons of wit in the pla∣ceswhere they are to go.

There is a greater unhappiness in that vvhich you say (ansvver∣edTerence pleasantly) which is, that vvhen a man is once receiv'dfor a vvit, though he should aftervvards speak the handsomestthings in the vvorld, and had the art even to please generally, yethe vvould not be esteemed the more, because it vvould be alvvaysbeliev'd that he speaks out of obligation, and that it is much easierfor him to acquit himself more agreeably then they vvho have notthe same design. That vvhich I apprehend inconvenient to the per∣sonswe speak of (said the Princess of Hippo) is, that it seems theyought alvvays to have a peculiar language, and 'tis no longer freefor them to imploy such terms as are ordinarily used. And thatwhich I find most unjust (said Scipio) at least in reference to theirvvorks, is, that there are certain people, vvho pretending to learn∣ingand vvit, speak of a handsome Comedy, or such like divertise∣ment,vvith a contemning judgement, and look upon them as meertriflles, vvithout considering that the most excellent morality, andthe subtilest policy may be learnt in them, after a pleasing manner,and far from the severity of Maxims.

As Scipio ended these vvords he observ'd a happy opportunityoffered to speak to Aemilia; upon vvhich he turned tovvards her,to entertain her vvith that profound respect that never abandon'dhim in the presence of the fair person: For, advantageously forhim, Magasba vvas discoursing for some time vvith Cato, and so lefthim liberty to speak to the person he lov'd, though rather out of dif∣ferencethen address. Palmira, Regulus, Rutilius, and Albinus, en∣tertainedthemselves very agreeably, and the conversation of Na∣dalia,Laelius, and Terence vvas no question gallant and debonair.But vvhen it grevv late, the Illustrious company reunited their con∣versation;about vvhich time Nadalia vvas desiring Terence togive her some Verses of his composing, and asking for them vvithsomething a loud voice; Cato, vvho vvas not far distant over-heardher, and ansvvering her vvith a cold and serious smile; It is re∣quisitethen (said he) that you give him some other thing, for in myapprehension there is nothing of more povverfull inspiration tohandsome Poetry, then that vvhich I understand. You have so lit∣tleexperienc'd vvhat you say you understand (ansvvered Nadaliasmiling) that methinks you are not a very fit person to vvhom tobe referred in this case. 'Tis true indeed (said Scipio to Cato) thatI cannot herein be of your opinion, though it be the same that mostof the vvorld follovvs: for I never could conceive it possible to ex∣pressa violent passion vvell in measur'd vvords, and confinetransports that vvill ovvn no bounds to a limited of expression.Besides (added Nadalia) I never can indure those superfluousvvords (vvherewith such kind of Verses are ordinarily fil∣led,though I vvere capable of not hating those pieces of gallantryas I certainly do. Yet I have a vvay to cause you to receive theVerses vve speak of (ansvvered Terence smiling). But, Terence (in∣terrupted

Laelius) how dare you speak as you do, after what wehave from the mouth of Nadalia. Do you not know (continuedhe) that that fair person would be as cruel a Mistress, as she isreally a good friend; that she had rather see a Lover die, then un∣derstandhis passion: And lastly, that there is nothing but thedeath of a poor slave that could warrant a discovery, without in∣censingher, that her fetters were worn. Assuredly Terence did notremember all these things (said Palmira smiling). Pardon me,Madam (answered he to her) 'twas because I did remember them,that I spake after that manner that surpris'd Laelius. It would be adesirable pleasure then (replyed she) to hear the way you speak of,for I presume it will be one of those pleasant turns of wit that youare accustomed to use. Sincerely, Madam (answered he, affect∣ingto speak seriously) there will be neither mirth nor pleasant∣nessin what I intend to make. What is it then you intend to make?(said Aemilia with a little smile). My own Epitaph, Madam (an∣sweredhe with his affected seriousness) for since Nadalia saies shewould understand the passion of a dead man without being incen∣sed,and that a dead man can speak only by his Epitaph, be plea∣sedto judge, Madam, whether I have not reason to set upon themaking of mine, and send it to her.

All the company laughed at the agreeable conceit of Terence, andNadalia having beheld him smiling also; Verily (said she to him)this conceit seems to me so exquisitely ingenious, that all the com∣panyvvill be glad you make what you speak of; and for my part,I shall be extreamly pleased with it, for I confess to you such kindof fancies are perfectly correspondent to my humour. This con∣versationwas upon a subject so agreeable, that it would have bincontinued longer if time had permitted: but for that it was alrea∣dylate, the Illustrious Company retyr'd, and assoon as they cameinto the low Hall, which was handsomely beset with Lights, Lae∣liusand Terence went apart by themselves to speak of important af∣fairs,though after Nadalia had smilingly told the Carthaginian shewould expect his Epitaph.

Terence did not sup that night at the Palace of Magasba; becausehaving a friend that was unwilling yet to shew himself, he didnot account it fit to leave him alone: Besides (added he smiling,in answer to those that desired to stay him) I do not conceive aPalace (where nothing but glorious and brave spectacles amazethe eyes, and where all thoughts are unsutable but those of joy)a fit place to inspire me with Funerall Verses. But if the conver∣sationof so worthy a person was wanting in this Illustrious com∣pany,the productions of his Wit were not; for they had nosooner disposed themselves to pass the evening with Divertise∣ments,but a man who was presently known to be a Carthagi∣nianentered, and after a low reverence delivered a Pacquet in∣tothe hands of Nadalia. Assoon as this amiable Lady had

her eyes upon it, she perceived it was a rich Writing-Table,wherein she presently read these words which were written in aCharacter not unknown to her;

To a fair person, who will not understandthe passion of a Lover but by hisDeath.

Nadalia mused a little, and blushed at the reading of these words▪after which having opened the Tablets, she found therein theseVerses;

How great a number in one rigid fate,Iris, do you involve,If onely you resolve.A dead Adorer to commiserate;And will not own the Tropies of your eyes,Till Death hath made the World your sacrifice.

Repeal, fair Iris, this severe decree▪Unless your sins you will not hide,But in your mischiefs take a pride:Then think but how untoward it would beA thing so grim, so rude as death should dar••To make a Court to one so young, so fair.

All the company unanimously applauded the hand somness ofthis conceit, and condemned the sentiment of Nadalia, since in ef∣fectdeath has all the contrary qualities to those we see in the come∣lypersons of Lovers: but as they were going to attaque that fairperson, who was at that time not so debonair as usual, she gladlytook occasion to avoid the on-set, by opening the other Tabletswhich she received, the cover of which was plain black without su∣perscription,and in which she read the following words,

I expect your Epitaph. These, fair Nadalia, were the terrible wordsyou spoke at my parting from you. I know well you have demanded no∣thingbeyond your rights. I know you need onely declare your pleasure topersons that know you as well as I do, and that I ought not to disobey you,even when you require my Epitaph. Nevertheless I presume to say youought something to sweeten the matter, and might have shewn less plea∣santnessin pronouncing these cruel words, and moreover that you oughtnot to demand my Epitaph with the same air that another Lady wouldhave askt me for a Sonnet. 'Tis true, that being you had rather beholdthe death of a Lover then understand his passion, you are so often oblig'd

to desire Epitaphs, that being accustomed thereto, you speak at presentnot onely without reluctance, but even with your ordinary debonarity.But since a dead man may tell you the sentiments he has, without offend∣ingyou, I believe one that sends you his Epitaph, ought to have the sameliberty, and consequently I may declare to you that I am absolutely yours.But, fair Nadalia, I mean with all the respect that is due to you: for,as for any thing more, in truth I feel my self not yet dead enough topresume to speak it.

The end of this Letter immediately appeared so pleasantly con∣ceiv'd,that all the company was agreeably surprised with it: and asthey were going to speak concerning the wit that was resplendentin all the works of Terence, Nadalia read the following Verses;

But after I had looked long in vain,'Mongst all the Ghosts that in Elysium raign,I found it true; that, nor the world above,Nor this had any, that deserv'd her love.Go, pray her then the favour we may have,At least to take repose within thy Grave.

If the Letter of Terence was judg'd ingenious, his Verses did notseem less handsome; and as they observ'd the happiness of his in∣fancyin them, and that both pieces were of the same Author, theopinions of this Illustrious company were divided, whilst somepersons of wit commended the Epitaph that was now read, and o∣thersrepeated with applause the handsomest passages of the Let∣terpreceding it. But that which occasioned a little wonder, was,that Nadalia did not speak so much in this occasion as was expect∣ed:it was remembred that she appeared a little pensive before sheopened the Tablets of Terence: and if some kind of pleasantnessappeared in her countenance, it was easily observable not to resem∣blethat sprightly jollity that was natural to her. Whereupon shewas set upon by Laelius, who told her smilingly, he wondered shehad lost her cheerfulness even before the apparition of Terence. Yet

methinks (said Aemilia) she has very much left still. No doubt,Madam, (answered Regulus smiling) you apprehend so, onely be∣causeshe has very much wit. But for that she has also very manyenemies (replied the Princess of Hippo) it is fit that she have alsosome friends. If she stood in need of friends after what you havesaid, Madam (answered Scipio) I should presently embrace herparty. You do me too great a favour, my Lord (said Nadalia) butI have no necessity of so great a succour in this occasion, and I shallonely desire a protection which two fair and Illustrious persons willwithout doubt not refuse me: since therefore (added he smiling)I need only my jolly humour to silence those that attaque me, andto manifest, that at least in this encounter I am able to surmount myenemies by laughing. But since laughter is a thing not voluntary(answered Regulus pleasantly) you cannot overcome us when youplease; yet I need only to express my debonarity (replyed she) tomanifest my triumph. But you know well, fair Nadalia (said Lae∣lius)that mirth ought to be spontaneously produced, and when itis enforc'd, it ceases to be agreeable, and our heart disowns it as astranger: Moreover (added he smiling) the cheerfulness we speak of,methinks, seems constrain'd in the borrowed attire it is dress'd with;and it is impossible it should please when it bespeaks observationand effects to be taken notice of.

This conceit of Laelius gave the company occasion of pleasant∣ness,and caus'd much divertisem*nt in this evening's conversation,in which Rutilius & Albinus ingaged themselves agreeably: and eventhe Prince of Capsa & Cato spake some things of a strain not very or∣dinarywith them; Magasba conceiving himself oblig'd to speakto the persons he entertained in such manner as might be most ac∣ceptableto them, and Cato judging it fit to remit a little of his se∣verity,since he beheld nothing austere in the persons in whom headmired a noble prudence, and a sublime virtue. But when it wastime for this Illustrious Company to separate, the two famousfriends went to entertain themselves after a very different sort, sincethey went to speak of the charmes of the divine Aemilia, which theynever did, but after a manner in which might be seen a profound re∣spectmix'd with an exordinary admiration. Their conversationindeed did not endure long; for it being extreamly late, Laeliusreferred the relating of the important affairs he had to inform meof, to the next morning, as also the giving him account of what hehad lately understood concerning the Deputations of the Cartha∣ginians.The amorous Scipio much uncapable to expect with mo∣derationwhat was promised him, resented a sensible grief as soonas Laelius was gone out of his Chamber: for when the Idea ofAemylia presently fill'd whole extent of his imagination, he couldnot consider that that admirable Lady was the fairest person in theworld, and the person in the world that he loved most, without af∣terwardsrepassing in his mind all the obstacles that had hinderedhim from being happy.

This remembrance would without doubt have caused him to ex∣pirewith grief, if he had not sweetned it by coming suddainly tothink that his rivals were yet more unhappy then himself; and thatbesides, that their pretensions were not better favour'd, they hadnot then the advantage of seeing Aemilia, of being lodg'd in thesame Palace, and having Illustrious persons with her to promotethe interest of their passions. From these thoughts he was capableto pass to that of conquering his enemies; for in this conjuncturehe was able to bestow a part of his cares for the interest of Rome,without ceasing to think on the beauty of Aemilia, because his am∣bitionwas then a dependance of his love; so that it may be said,this Illustrious Lover in betaking himself to his bed, did less aban∣donhimself to rest, then to the tyranny of those two violent pas∣sions.

FINIS.