Chapter XXIII: Part III (9)

’.he Prince, seeing the ceremony end here, rises in a rage, and cries out, “I charge you to go on----remove the veil, and let the sun appear; advance your mystic wand, and shew what follows next.” “I cannot, sir,” replied the trembling wizard, “the Fates have closed the everlasting Book, forbidding farther search.” “Then damn your scanted art,” replied the Prince, “a petty juggler could have done as much.” “Is it not enough,” replied the _German_ rabbi, “that we have shewed you crowned, and crowned in _France_ itself? I find the Infernals themselves are bounded here, and can declare no more.” “Oh, they are petty powers that can be bounded,” replied the Prince with scorn. They strove with all their art to reconcile him, laying the fault on some mistake of theirs, in the ingredients of the charm, which at another time they would strive to prevent: they soothe him with all the hope in the world, that what was left unrevealed must needs be as glorious and fortunate to him, as what he had seen already, which was absolutely to be depended on: thus they brought him to the open garden again, where they continued their instructions to him, telling him, that now was the time to arrive at all the glories he had seen; they presented to him the state of affairs in _France_, and how much a greater interest he had in the hearts of the people than their proper monarch, arguing a thousand fallacies to the deluded hero, who blind and mad with his dreams of glory, his visions and prospects, listened with reverence and attention to all their false persuasions. I call them false, madam, for I never had faith in those sort of people, and am sorry so many great men and ladies of our time are so bewitched to their prophecies. They there presented him with a list of all the considerable of the Reformed Religion in _Paris_, who had assured him aids of men and money in this expedition; merchants, rich tradesmen, magistrates and gownmen of the Reformed Church and the law. Next to this, another of the contribution of pious ladies; all which sums being named, amounted to a considerable supply; so that they assured him hell itself could not with these aids obstruct his glory, but on the contrary, should be compelled to render him assistance, by the help of charms, to make him invincible; so that wholly overcome by them, he has given order that all preparations be forthwith made for the most secret and speedy conveyance of himself and friends to some sea-port in _France_; he has ordered abundance of letters to be writ to those of the _Huguenot_ party in all parts of _France_; all which will be ready to assist him at his landing. _Fergusano_ undertakes for the management of the whole affair, to write, to speak, and to persuade; and you know, madam, he is the most subtle and insinuating of all his non-conforming race, and the most malignant of all our party, and sainted by them for the most pious and industrious labourer in the _Cause_; all that he says is oracle to the crowd, and all he says authentic; and it is he alone is that great engine that sets the great work a turning.’ ‘Yes,’ replied _Sylvia_, ‘and makes the giddy world mad with his damnable notions.’ ‘Pernicious as he is,’ replied _Brilliard_, ‘he has the sole management of affairs under _Hermione_; he has power to treat, to advise, to raise money, to make and name officers, and lastly, to draw out a scene of fair pretences for _Cesario_ to the Crown of _France_, and the lawfulness of his claim; for let the conquest be never so sure, the people require it, and the conqueror is obliged to give some better reason than that of the strength of his sword, for his dominion over them. This pretension is a declaration, or rather a most scandalous, pernicious and treasonable libel, if I may say so, who have so great an interest in it, penned with all the malice envy can invent; the most unbred, rude piece of stuff, as makes it apparent the author had neither wit nor common good manners; besides the hellish principles he has made evident there. My lord would have no hand in the approbation of this gross piece of villainous scandal, which has more unfastened him from their interest, than any other designs, and from which he daily more and more declines, or seems disgusted with, though he does not wholly intend to quit the interest; having no other probable means to make good that fortune, which has been so evidently and wholly destroyed by it.’ ‘I am extremely glad,’ said _Sylvia_,’.hat _Philander’s_ sentiments are so generous, and am at nothing so much amazed, as to hear the Prince could suffer so gross a thing to pass in his name.’ ‘I must,’ said _Brilliard_,’.o the Prince right in this point, to assure you when the thing was first in the rough draught shewed him, he told _Fergusano_, that those accusations of a crowned head, were too villainous for the thoughts of a gentleman; and giving it him again--cried--“No--let it never be said, that the royal blood that runs in my veins, could dictate to me no more noble ways for its defence and pretensions, than the mean cowardice of lies; and that to attain to empire, I should have recourse to the most detestable of all shifts. No, no, my too zealous friend,” continued he, “I will, with only my sword in my hand, at the head of my army proclaim my right, and demand a crown, which if I win is mine; if not, it is his whose sword is better or luckier; and though the future world may call this unjust, at least they will say it was brave.” At this the wizard smiled, and replied, “Alas, sir, had we hitherto acted by rules of generosity only, we had not brought so great advantages to our interest. You tell me, sir, of a speech you will make, with your sword in your hand, that will do very well at the head of an army, and a handsome declaration would be proper for men of sense; but this is not to the wise, but to the fools, on whom nothing will pass, but what is penned to their capacity, and who will not be able to hear the speeches you shall make to an army: this is to rouse them, and find them wherever they are, how far remote soever from you, that at once they may be incited to assist you, and espouse your interest: this is the sort of gospel they believe; all other is too fine: believe me, sir, it is by these gross devices you are to persuade those sons of earth, whose spirits never mounted above the dunghill, whence they grew like over-ripe pumpkins. Lies are the spirit that inspires them, they are the very brandy that makes them valiant; and you may as soon beat sense into their brains, as the very appearance of truth; it is the very language of the scarlet beast to them. They understand no other than their own, and he that does, knows to what ends we aim. No matter, sir, what tools you work withal, so the finished piece be fine at last. Look forward to the goal, a crown attends it! and never mind the dirty road that leads to it.” ‘With such false arguments as these, he wrought upon the easy nature of the Prince, who ordered some thousands of them to be printed for their being dispersed all over France, as soon as they should be landed: especially among the _Parisians_, too apt to take any impressions that bore the stamp and pretence of religion and liberty.

’.hile these and all other things necessary were preparing, _Cesario_, wholly given over to love, being urged by _Hermione_ to know the occasion of his last night’s absence, unravels all the secret, and told my lord and her, one night at supper, the whole scene of the _grotto_; so that _Hermione_, more than ever being puffed up with ambitious thoughts, hastened to have the Prince pressed to marry her; and consulting with the counsellor of her closest secrets, sets him anew to work; swearing violently, that if he did not bring that design about, she should be able, by her ascendancy over _Cesario_, to ruin all those they had undertaken, and yet turn the Prince from the enterprise; and that it was more to satisfy her ambition (to which they were obliged for all the Prince had promised) that he had undertaken to head an army, and put himself again into the hands of the _Huguenots_, and forsake all the soft repose of love and life, than for any inclination or ambition of his own; and that she who had power to animate him one way, he might be assured had the same power another. This she ended in very high language, with a look too fierce and fiery to leave him any doubt of; and he promised all things should be done as she desired, and that he would overcome the Prince, and bring him absolutely under her power. “Not,” said she, with a scornful look, “that I need your aid in this affair, or want of power of my own to command it; but I will not have him look upon it as my act alone, or a thing of my seeking, but by your advice shall be made to understand it is for the good of the public; that having to do with a sort of people of the Reformed Religion, whose pretences were more nice than wise, more seemingly zealous than reasonable or just, they might look upon the life she led the Prince as scandalous, that was not justified by form, though never so unlawful.” A thousand things she urged to him, who needed no instruction how to make that appear authentic and just, however contrary to religion and sense: but, so informed, he parted from her, and told her the event should declare his zeal for her service, and so it did; for he no sooner spoke of it to the Prince, but he took the hint as a divine voice; his very soul flushed in his lovely cheeks, and all the fire of love was dancing in his eyes: yet, as if he had feared what he wished could not handsomely and lawfully be brought to pass, he asked a thousand questions concerning it, all which the subtle wizard so well resolved, at least in his judgement, who easily was convinced of what he wished, that he no longer deferred his happiness, but that very night, in the visit he made _Hermione_, fell at her feet, and implored her consent of what he told her _Fergusano_ had fully convinced him was necessary for his interest and glory, neither of which he could enjoy or regard, if she was not the partner of them; and that when he should go to _France_, and put himself in the field to demand a crown, he should do it with absolute vigour and resolution, if she were to be seated as queen on the same throne with him, without whom a cottage would be more pleasant; and he could relish no joys that were not as entirely and immediately hers as his own: he pleaded impatiently for what she longed, and would have made her petition for, and all the while she makes a thousand doubts and scruples only to be convinced and confirmed by him; and after seeming fully satisfied, he led her into a chamber (where _Fergusano_ waited, and only her woman, and his faithful confidant _Tomaso_) and married her: since which, she has wholly managed him with greater power than before; takes abundance of state, is extremely elevated, I will not say insolent; and though they do not make a public declaration of this, yet she owns it to all her intimates; and is ever reproaching my lord with his lewd course of life, wholly forgetting her own; crying out upon infamous women, as if she had been all the course of her life an innocent.’

By this time dinner was ended, and _Sylvia_ urged _Brilliard_ to depart with her letter; but he was extremely surprised to find it to be to the Governor’s nephew _Don Alonzo_, who was his lord’s friend, and who would doubtless give him an account of all, if he did not shew him the billet: all these reasons could not dissuade this fickle wanderer, whose heart was at that time set on this young inconstant, at least her inclinations: he tells her that her life would be really in danger, if _Philander_ comes to the knowledge of such an intrigue, which could not possibly be carried on in that town without noise; she tells him she is resolved to quit that false injurer of her fame and beauty; who had basely abandoned her for other women of less merit, even since she had pardoned him the crimes of love he committed at _Cologne_; that while he was in the country with her during the time of her lying-in, he had given himself to all that would receive him there; that, since he came away, he had left no beauty unattempted; and could he possibly imagine her of a spirit to bow beneath such injuries? No, she would on to all the revenges her youth and beauty were capable of taking, and stick at nothing that led to that interest; and that if he did not join with her in her noble design she would abandon him, and put herself wholly out of his protection: this she spoke with a fierceness that made the lover tremble with fear of losing her: he therefore told her she had reason; and that since she was resolved, he would confess to her that _Philander_ was the most perfidious creature in the world; and that _Hermione_, the haughty _Hermione_, who hated naughty women, invited and treated all the handsome ladies of the Court to balls, and to the Basset-table, and made very great entertainments, only to draw to her interest all the brave and the young men; and that she daily gained abundance by these arts to _Cesario_, and above all strove by these amusements to engage _Philander_, whom she perceived to grow cold in the great concern; daily treating him with variety of beauty; so that there was no gaiety, no gallantry, or play, but at _Hermione_’., whither all the youth of both qualities repaired; and it was there the Governor’s nephew was every evening to be found. ‘Possibly, madam, I had not told you this, if the Prince’s bounty had not taken me totally off from _Philander_; so that I have no other dependence on him, but that of my respect and duty, out of perfect gratitude.’ After this, to gain _Brilliard_ entirely, she assured him if his fortune were suitable to her quality, and her way of life, she believed she should devote herself to him; and though what she said were the least of her thoughts, it failed not to flatter him agreeably, and he sighed with grief that he could not engage her; all he could get was little enough to support him fine, which he was always as any person of quality at Court, and appeared as graceful, and might have had some happy minutes with very fine ladies, who thought well of him. To salve this defect of want of fortune, he told her he had received a command from _Octavio_ to come to him about settling of a very considerable pension upon her, and that he had at his investing put money into his aunt’s hands, who was a woman of considerable quality, to be disposed of to that charitable use; and that if she pleased to maintain her rest of fame, and live without receiving love-visits from men, she might now command that, which would be a much better and nobler support than that from a lover, which would be transitory, and last but as long as her beauty, or a less time, his love. To this she knew not what to answer, but ready money being the joy of her heart, and the support of her vanity, she seems to yield to this, having said so much before; and she considered she wanted a thousand things to adorn her beauty, being very expensive; she was impatient till this was performed, and deferred the sending to _Don Alonzo_, though her thoughts were perpetually on him. She, by the advice of _Brilliard_, writes a letter to _Octavio_; which was not like those she had before written, but as an humble penitent would write to a ghostly Father, treating him with all the respect that was possible; and if ever she mentioned love, it was as if her heart had violently, and against her will, burst out into softness, as still she retained there; and then she would take up again, and ask pardon for that transgression; she told him it was a passion, which, though she could never extinguish for him, yet that it should never warm her for another, but she would leave _Philander_ to the world, and retire where she was not known, and try to make up her broken fortunes; with abundance of things to this purpose, which he carried to _Octavio_: he said he could have wished she would have retired to a monastery, as all the first part of her letter had given him hope; and resolved, and retired as he was, he could not read this without extreme confusion and change of countenance. He asked _Brilliard_ a thousand times whether he believed he might trust her, or if she would abandon those ways of shame, that at last lost all: he answered, he verily believed she would. ‘However,’ said _Octavio_, ‘it is not my business to capitulate, but to believe and act all things, for the interest and satisfaction of her whom I yet adore;’ and without further delay, writ to his aunt, to present _Sylvia_ with those sums he had left for her; and which had been sufficient to have made her happy all the rest of her life, if her sins of love had not obstructed it. However, she no sooner found herself mistress of so considerable a sum, but in lieu of retiring, and ordering her affairs so as to render it for ever serviceable to her, the first thing she does, is to furnish herself with new coach and equipage, and to lavish out in clothes and jewels a great part of it immediately; and was impatient to be seen on the _Tour_, and in all public places; nor could _Brilliard_ persuade the contrary, but against all good manners and reason, she flew into most violent passions with him, till he had resolved to give her her way; it happened that the first day she shewed on the _Tour_, neither _Philander_, _Cesario_ nor _Hermione_ chanced to be there; so that at supper it was all the news, how glorious a young creature was seen only with one lady, which was _Antonet_, very well dressed, in the coach with her: every body that made their court that night to _Hermione_ spoke of this new vision, as the most extraordinary charmer that had ever been seen; all were that day undone with love, and none could learn who this fair destroyer was; for all the time of _Sylvia_’. being at _Brussels_ before, her being big with child had kept her from appearing in all public places; so that she was wholly a new face to all that saw her; and it is easy to be imagined what charms that delicate person appeared with to all, when dressed to such advantage, who naturally was the most beautiful creature in the world, with all the bloom of youth that could add to beauty. Among the rest that day that lost their hearts, was the Governor’s nephew, who came into the Presence that night wholly transported, and told _Hermione_ he died for the lovely charmer he had that day seen; so that she, who was the most curious to gain all the beauties to her side, that the men might be so too, endeavoured all she could to find out where this beauty dwelt. _Philander_, now grown the most amorous and gallant in the world, grew passionately in love with the very description of her, not imagining it had been _Sylvia_, because of her equipage: he knew she loved him, at least he thought she loved him too well to conceal herself from him, or be in _Brussels_, and not let him know it; so that wholly ravished with the description of the imagined new fair one, he burnt with desire of seeing her; and all this night was passed in discourse of this stranger alone; the next day her livery being described to _Hermione_, she sent two pages all about the town, to see if they could discover a livery so remarkable; and that if they did, they should inquire of them who they belonged to, and where that person’s lodging was. This was not a very difficult matter to perform: _Brussels_ is not a large place, and it was soon surveyed from one end to the other: at last they met with two of her footmen, whom they saluted, and taking notice of their livery, asked them who they belonged to? These lads were strangers to the lady they served, and newly taken; and _Sylvia_ at first coming, resolved to change her name, and was called Madame de----, a name very considerable in _France_, which they told the pages, and that she lived in such a place: this news _Hermione_ no sooner heard, but she sends a gentleman in the name of the Prince and herself to compliment her, and tell her she had the honour to know some great persons of that name in _France_, and did not doubt but she was related to them: she therefore sent to offer her her friendship, which possibly in a strange place might not be unserviceable to her, and that she should be extreme glad to see her at Court, that is, at _Cesario_’. palace. The gentleman who delivered this message, being surprised at the dazzling beauty of the fair stranger, was almost unassured in his address, and the manner of it surprised _Sylvia_ no less, to be invited as a strange lady by one that hated her; she could not tell whether it were real, or a plot upon her; however she made answer, and bid him tell Madam the Princess, which title she gave her, that she received her compliment as the greatest honour that could arrive to her, and that she would wait upon Her Highness, and let her know from her own mouth the sense she had of the obligation. The gentleman returned and delivered his message to _Hermione_; but so altered in his look, so sad and unusual, that she took notice of it, and asked him how he liked the new beauty: he blushed and bowed, and told her she was a wonder----This made _Hermione_’. colour rise, it being spoke before _Cesario_; for though she was assured of the hero’s heart, she hated he should believe there was a greater beauty in the world, and one universally adored. She knew not how so great a miracle might work upon him, and began to repent she had invited her to Court.

In the mean time _Sylvia_, after debating what to do in this affair, whether to visit _Hermione_ and discover herself, or to remove from _Brussels_, resolved rather upon the last; but she had fixed her design as to _Don Alonzo_, and would not depart the town. To her former beginning flame for him was added more fuel; she had seen him the day before on the _Tour_; she had seen him gaze at her with all the impatience of love, with madness of passion in his eyes, ready to fling himself out of the coach every time she passed by: and if he appeared beautiful before, when in his riding dress, and harassed for four nights together with love and want of sleep; what did he now appear to her amorous eyes and heart? She had wholly forgot _Octavio_, _Philander_ and all, and made a sacrifice of both to this new young lover: she saw him with all the advantages of dress, magnificent as youth and fortune could invent; and above all, his beauty and his quality warmed her heart anew; and what advanced her flame yet farther, was a vanity she had of fixing the dear wanderer, and making him find there was a beauty yet in the world, that could put an end to his inconstancy, and make him languish at her feet as long as she pleased. Resolved on this new design, she defers it no longer; but as soon as the persons of quality, who used to walk every evening in the park, were got together, she accompanied with _Antonet_, and three or four strange pages and footmen, went into the park, and dressed in perfect glory. She had not walked long there before she saw _Don Alonzo_, richer than ever in his habit, and more beautiful to her eyes than any thing she had ever seen; he was gotten among the young and fair, caressing, laughing, playing, and acting all the little wantonnesses of youth. _Sylvia_’. blood grew disordered at this, and she found she loved by her jealousy, and longs more than ever to have the glory of vanquishing that heart, that so boasted of never having yet been conquered. She therefore uses all her art to get him to look at her; she passed by him often, and as often as she did so he viewed her with pleasure; her shape, her air, her mien, had something so charming, as, without the assistance of her face, she gained that evening a thousand conquests; but those were not the trophies she aimed at, it was _Alonzo_ was the marked-out victim, that she destined for the sacrifice of love. She found him so engaged with women of great quality, she almost despaired to get to speak to him; her equipage which stood at the entrance of the park, not being by her, he did not imagine this fine lady to be her he saw on the _Tour_ last night; yet he looked at her so much, as gave occasion to those he was with to rally him extremely, and tell him he was in love with what he had not seen, and who might, notwithstanding all that delicate appearance, be ugly when her mask was off. _Sylvia_, however, still passed on with abundance of sighing lovers after her, some daring to speak, others only languishing; to all she would vouchsafe no word, but made signs, as if she were a stranger, and understood them not; at last _Alonzo_, wholly impatient, breaks from these ralliers, and gets into the crowd that pursued this lovely unknown: her heart leaped when he approached her, and the first thing she did was to pull off her glove, and not only shew the fairest hand that ever nature made, but that ring on her finger _Alonzo_ gave her when they parted at the village. The hand alone was enough to invite all eyes with pleasure to look that way; but _Alonzo_ had a double motive, he saw the hand with love, and the ring with jealousy and surprise; and as it is natural in such cases, the very first thought that possessed him was, that the young _Bellumere_ (for so _Sylvia_ had called herself at the village) was a lover of this lady, and had presented her this ring. And after his sighings and little pantings, that seized him at this thought, would give him leave, he bowing and blushing cried--’Madam, the whole piece must be excellent, when the pattern is so very fine.’ And humbly begging the favour of a nearer view, he took her hand and kissed it with a passionate eagerness, which possibly did not so well please _Sylvia_, because she did not think he took her for the same person, to whom he shewed such signs of love last night. In taking her hand he surveyed the ring, and cried,--’Madam, would to heaven I could lay so good a claim to this fair hand, as I think I once could to this ring, which this hand adorns and honours.’ ‘How, sir,’ replied _Sylvia_, ‘I hope you will not charge me with felony?’ ‘I am afraid I shall,’ replied he sighing, ’.or you have attacked me on the King’s high-way, and have robbed me of a heart:’ ‘I could never have robbed a person,’ said _Sylvia_, ‘who could more easily have parted with that trifle; the next fair object will redeem it, and it will be very little the worse for my using.’ ’.h Madam,’ replied he sighing, ‘that will be according as you will treat it; for I find already you have done it more damage, than it ever sustained in all the rencounters it has had with love and beauty.’ ‘You complain too soon,’ replied _Sylvia_, smiling, ‘and you ought to make a trial of my good nature, before you reproach me with harming you.’ ‘I know not,’ replied _Alonzo_ sighing, ‘what I may venture to hope from that; but I am afraid, from your inclinations, I ought to hope for nothing, since a thousand reasonable jealousies already possess me, from the sight of that ring; and I more than doubt I have a powerful rival, a youth of the most divine form, I ever met with of his sex; if from him you received it, I guess my fate.’ ‘I perceive, stranger,’ said _Sylvia_, ‘you begin to be inconstant already, and find excuses to complain on your fate before you have tried your fortune. I persuade myself that fine person you speak of, and to whom you gave this ring, has so great a value for you, that to leave you no excuse, I assure you, he will not be displeased to find you a rival, provided you prove a very constant lover.’ ‘I confess,’ said _Alonzo_, ‘constancy is an imposition I never yet had the confidence and ill nature to impose on the fair; and indeed I never found that woman yet, of youth and beauty, that ever set so small a value on her own charms, to be much in love with that dull virtue, and require it of my heart; but, upon occasion, madam, if such an unreasonable fair one be found’----’I am extremely sorry’ (interrupted _Sylvia_) ‘to find you have no better way of recommending yourself; this will be no great encouragement to a person of my humour to receive your address.’ ‘Madam, I do not tell you that I am not in my nature wondrous constant,’ replied he; ‘I tell you only what has hitherto happened to me, not what will; that I have yet never been so, is no fault of mine, but power or truth in those beauties, to whom I have given my heart; rather believe they wanted charms to hold me, than that I, (where wit and beauty engaged me) should prove so false to my own pleasure. I am very much afraid, madam, if I find my eyes as agreeably entertained when I shall have the honour to see your face, as my ears are with your excellent wit, I shall be reduced to that very whining, sighing coxcomb, you like so well in a lover, and be ever dying at your feet. I have but one hope left to preserve myself from this wretched thing you women love; that is, that I shall not find you so all over charming, as what I have hitherto found presents itself to be. You have already created love enough in me for any reasonable woman, but I find you are not to be approached with the common devotions we pay your sex; but, like your beauty, the passion too must be great, and you are not content unless you see your lovers die; this is that fatal proof alone that can satisfy you of their passion. And though you laugh to see a Sir _Courtly Nice_, a fop in fashion acted on the stage; in your hearts that foolish thing, that fine neat pasquil, is your darling, your fine gentleman, your well-bred person.’

Thus sometimes in jest, and sometimes in earnest, they recommended themselves to each other, and to so great a degree, that it was impossible for them to be more charmed on either side, which lasted ’.ill it was time to depart; but he besought her not to do so, ‘till she had informed him where he might wait on her, and most passionately solicit, what she as passionately desired: ‘To tell you truth,’ said she, ‘I cannot permit you that freedom without you ask it of _Bellumere_.’ He replied, ‘Next to waiting on her, he should be the most overjoyed in the world, to pay his respects to that young gentleman.’ However, to name him, gave him a thousand fears; which when he would have urged, she bid him trust to the generosity of that man, who was of quality, and loved him; she then told him his lodgings (which were her own): _Alonzo_, infinitely overjoyed, resolved to lose no time, but promised that evening to visit him: and at their parting, he treated her with so much passionate respect, that she was vexed to see it paid to one he yet knew not. However, she verily believed her conquest was certain: he having seen her three times, and all those times for a several person, and yet was still in love with her; and she doubted not, when all three were joined in one, he would be much more in love than yet he had been; with this assurance they parted.

_Sylvia_ was no sooner got home, but she resolved to receive _Alonzo_, who she was assured would come: she hasted to dress herself in a very rich suit of man’s clothes, to receive him as the young _French_ gentleman. She believed _Brilliard_ would not come ‘till late, as was his use, now being at play at _Hermione_’.. She looked extreme pretty when she was dressed, and had all the charms that heaven could adorn a face and shape withal: her apartment was very magnificent, and all looked very great. She was no sooner dressed, but the young lover came. _Sylvia_ received him on the stair-case with open arms, and all the signs of joy that could be expressed, and led him to a rich drawing-room, where she began to entertain him with that happy night’s adventure; when they both lay together at the village; while _Alonzo_ makes imperfect replies, wholly charmed with the look of the young cavalier, which so resembled what he had seen the day before in another garb on the _Tour_. He is wholly ravished with his voice, it being absolutely the same, that had charmed him that day in the park; the more he gazed and listened, the more he was confirmed in his opinion, that he was the same, and he had the music of that dear accent still in his ears, and could not be deceived. A thousand times he is about to kneel before her, and ask her pardon, but still is checked by doubt: he sees, he hears, this is the same lovely youth, who lay in bed with him at the village _cabaret_; and then no longer thinks her woman: he hears and sees it is the same face, and voice, and hands he saw on the _Tour_, and in the park, and then believes her woman: while he is in these perplexities, _Sylvia_, who with vanity and pride perceived his disorder, taking him in her arms, cried, ’.ome, my _Alonzo_, that you shall no longer doubt but I am perfectly your friend, I will shew you a sister of mine, whom you will say is a beauty, or I am too partial, and I will have your judgement of her.’ With that she called to _Antonet_ to beg her lady would permit her to bring a young stranger to kiss her hand. The maid, instructed, retires, and _Alonzo_ stood gazing on _Sylvia_ as one confounded and amazed, not knowing yet how to determine; he now begins to think himself mistaken in the fair youth, and is ready to ask his pardon for a fault but imagined, suffering by his silence the little prattler to discourse and laugh at him at his pleasure. ‘Come,’ said _Sylvia_ smiling, ‘I find the naming a beauty to you has made you melancholy; possibly when you see her she will not appear so to you; we do not always agree in one object.’ ‘Your judgement,’ replied _Alonzo_, ‘is too good to leave me any hope of liberty at the sight of a fine woman; if she be like yourself I read my destiny in your charming face.’ _Sylvia_ answered only with a smile--and calling again for _Antonet_, she asked if her sister were in a condition of being seen; she told her she was not, but all undressed and in her night-clothes; ‘Nay then,’ said _Sylvia_, ‘I must use my authority with her:’ and leaving _Alonzo_ trembling with expectation, she ran to her dressing-room, where all things were ready, and slipping off her coat put on a rich night-gown, and instead of her peruke, fine night-clothes, and came forth to the charmed _Alonzo_, who was not able to approach her, she looked with such a majesty, and so much dazzling beauty; he knew her to be the same he had seen on the _Tour_. She, (seeing he only gazed without life or motion) approaching him, gave him her hand, and cried--’Sir, possibly this is a more old acquaintance of yours than my face.’ At which he blushed and bowed, but could not speak: at last _Sylvia_, laughing out-right, cried--’Here, _Antonet_, bring me again my peruke, for I find I shall never be acquainted with _Don Alonzo_ in petticoats.’ At this he blushed a thousand times more than before, and no longer doubted but this charmer, and the lovely youth were one; he fell at her feet, and told her he was undone, for she had made him give her so indisputable proofs of his dullness, he could never hope she should allow him capable of eternally adoring her. ‘Rise,’ cried _Sylvia_ smiling, ‘and believe you have not committed so great an error, as you imagine; the mistake has been often made, and persons of a great deal of wit have been deceived.’ ‘You may say what you please,’ replied _Alonzo_, ‘to put me in countenance; but I shall never forgive myself the stupidity of that happy night, that laid me by the most glorious beauty of the world, and yet afforded me no kind instinct to inform my soul how much I was blest: oh pity a wretchedness, divine maid, that has no other excuse but that of infatuation; a thousand times my greedy ravished eyes wandered over the dazzling brightness of yours; a thousand times I wished that heaven had made you woman! and when I looked, I burnt; but, when I kissed those soft, those lovely lips, I durst not trust my heart; for every touch begot wild thoughts about it; which yet the course of all my fiery youth, through all the wild debauches I had wandered, had never yet betrayed me to; and going to bed with all this love and fear about me, I made a solemn oath not to approach you, lest so much beauty had overcome my virtue. But by this new discovery, you have given me a flame, I have no power nor virtue to oppose: it is just, it is natural to adore you; and not to do it, were a greater than my sin of dullness; and since you have made me lose a charming friend, it is but just I find a mistress; give me but your permission to love, and I will give you all my life in service, and wait the rest: I will watch and pray for coming happiness; which I will buy at any price of life or fortune.’ ‘Well, sir,’ replied our easy fair one; ‘if you believe me worth a conquest over you, convince me you can love; for I am no common beauty to be won with petty sudden services; and could you lay an empire at my feet, I should despise it where the heart were wanting.’ You may believe the amorous youth left no argument to convince her in that point unsaid; and it is most certain they came to so good an understanding, that he was not seen in _Brussels_ for eight days and nights after, nor this rare beauty, for so long a time, seen on the _Tour_ or any public place. _Brilliard_ came every day to visit her, and receive her commands, as he used to do, but was answered still that _Sylvia_ was ill, and kept her chamber, not suffering even her domestics to approach her: this did not so well satisfy the jealous lover, but he soon imagined the cause, and was very much displeased at the ill treatment; if such a design had been carried on, he desired to have the management of it, and was angry that _Sylvia_ had not only deceived him in the promise he had made for her to _Octavio_, but had done her own business without him: he spoke some hard words; so that to undeceive him she was forced to oblige _Alonzo_ to appear at Court again; which she had much ado to incline him to, so absolutely she had charmed him; however he went, and she suffered _Brilliard_ to visit her, persuading that easy lover (as all lovers are easy) that it was only indisposition, that hindered her of the happiness of seeing him; and after having perfectly reconciled herself to him, she asked him the news at _Hermione_’., to whom, I had forgot to tell you, she sent every day a page with a compliment, and to let her know she was ill, or she should have waited on her: she every day received the compliment from her again, as an unknown lady. _Brilliard_ told her that all things were now prepared, and in a very short time they should go for _France_; but that whatever the matter was, _Philander_ almost publicly disowned the Prince’s interest, and to some very considerable of the party has given out, he does not like the proceedings, and that he verily believed they would find themselves all mistaken; and that instead of a throne the Prince would meet a scaffold; ‘so bold and open he has been. Something of it has arrived to the Prince’s ear, who was so far from believing it, that he could hardly be persuaded to speak of it to him; and when he did, it was with an assurance before-hand, that he did not credit such reports. So that he gives him not the pain to deny them: for my part I am infinitely afraid he will disoblige the Prince one day; for last night, when the Prince desired him to get his equipage ready, and to make such provision for you as was necessary, he coldly told him he had a mind to go to _Vienna_, which at that time was besieged by _Solyman_ the Magnificent, and that he had no inclination of returning to _France_. This surprised and angered the Prince; but they parted good friends at last, and he has promised him all things: so that I am very well assured he will send me where he supposes you still are; and how shall we manage that affair?’

_Sylvia_, who had more cunning and subtleness than all the rest of her sex, thought it best to see _Philander_, and part with him on as good terms as she could, and that it was better he should think he yet had the absolute possession of her, than that he should return to _France_ with an ill opinion of her virtue; as yet he had known no guilt of that kind, nor did he ever more than fear it with _Octavio_; so that it would be easy for her to cajole him yet a little longer, and when he was gone, she should have the world to range in, and possess this new lover, to whom she had promised all things, and received from him all assurances imaginable of inviolable love: in order to this then she consulted with _Brilliard_; and they resolved she should for a few days leave _Antonet_ with her equipage, at that house where she was, and retire herself to the village where _Philander_ had left her, and where he still imagined she was: she desired _Brilliard_ to give her a day’s time for this preparation, and it should be so. He left her, and going to _Hermione_’., meets _Philander_, who immediately gave him orders to go to _Sylvia_ the next morning, and let her know how all things went, and tell her, he would be with her in two days. In the mean time _Sylvia_ sent for _Alonzo_, who was but that evening gone from her. He flies on the wings of love, and she tells him, she is obliged to go to a place six or seven days’ journey off, whither he could not conduct her, for reasons she would tell him at her return: whatever he could plead with all the force of love to the contrary, she gets his consent, with a promise wholly to devote herself to him at her return, and pleased she sent him from her, when _Brilliard_ returning told her the commands he had; and it was concluded they should both depart next morning, accompanied only by her page. I am well assured she was very kind to _Brilliard_ all that journey, and which was but too visible to the amorous youth who attended them; so absolutely had she depraved her reason, from one degree of sin and shame to another; and he was happy above any imagination, while even her heart was given to another, and when she could propose no other interest in this looseness, but security, that _Philander_ should not know how ill she had treated him. In four days _Philander_ came, and finding _Sylvia_ more fair than ever, was anew pleased; for she pretended to receive him with all the joy imaginable, and the deceived lover believed, and expressed abundance of grief at the being obliged to part from her; a great many vows and tears were lost on both sides, and both believed true: but the grief of _Brilliard_ was not to be conceived; he could not persuade himself he could live, when absent from her: some bills _Philander_ left her, and was so plain with her, and open-hearted, he told her that he went indeed with _Cesario_, but it was in order to serve the King; that he was weary of their actions, and foresaw nothing but ruin would attend them; that he never repented him of any thing so much, as his being drawn in to that faction; in which he found himself so greatly involved, he could not retire with any credit; but since self-preservation was the first principle of nature, he had resolved to make that his aim, and rather prove false to a party, who had no justice and honour on their side, than to a King, whom all the laws of heaven and earth obliged him to serve; however, he was so far in the power of these people, that he could not disengage himself without utter ruin to himself; but that as soon as he was got into _France_, he would abandon their interest, let the censuring world say what it would, who never had right notions of things, or ever made true judgements of men’s actions.

He lived five or six days with _Sylvia_ there; in which time she failed not to assure him of her constant fidelity a thousand ways, especially by vows that left no doubt upon his heart; and it was now that they both indeed found there was a very great friendship still remaining at the bottom of their hearts for each other, nor did they part without manifold proofs of it. _Brilliard_ took a sad and melancholy leave of her, and had not the freedom to tell her aloud, but obliged to depart with his lord, they left _Sylvia_, and posted to _Brussels_, where they found the Prince ready to depart, having left _Hermione_ to her women more than half dead. I have heard there never was so sad a parting between two lovers; a hundred times they swooned with the apprehension of the separation in each other’s arms, and at last the Prince was forced from her while he left her dead, and was little better himself: he would have returned, but the officers and people about him, who had espoused his quarrel, would by no means suffer him: and he has a thousand times told a person very near him, that he had rather have forfeited all his hoped-for glory, than have left that charmer of his soul. After he had taken all care imaginable for _Hermione_, for that name so dear to him was scarce ever out of his mouth, he suffered himself with a heavy heart and pace to be conducted to the vessel: and I have heard he was hardly seen to smile all the little voyage, or his whole life after, or do any thing but sigh, and sometimes weep, which was a very great discouragement to all that followed him; they were a great while at sea, tossed to and fro by stress of weather, and often driven back to the shore where they first took shipping; and not being able to land where they first designed, they got ashore in a little harbour, where no ship of any bigness could anchor; so that with much ado, getting all their arms and men on shore, they sunk the ship, both to secure any from flying, and that it might not fall into the hands of the _French_. _Cesario_ was no sooner on the _French_ shore, but numbers came to him of the _Huguenot_ party, for whom he had arms, and who wanted them he furnished as far as he could, and immediately proclaimed himself King of _France_ and _Navarre_, while the dirty crowd rang him peals of joy. But though the under world came in great crowds to his aid, he wanted still the main supporters of his cause, the men of substantial quality: if the ladies could have composed an army, he would not have wanted one, for his beauty had got them all on his side, and he charmed the fair wheresoever he rode.