Skip to main content

Full text of "Private memoirs of Sir Kenelm Digby .."

See other formats


v - e tzrLf^~* 










OF BY J. H, 










THERE is a charm in Autobiography under what- 
ever form it may be presented to our notice, 
which is too universally felt to require recom- 
mendation ; hence, an apology for publishing for 
the first time, from his own MS., an account of 
the early part of the life of one of the most extra- 
ordinary characters of his, or indeed of any age, 
would it is presumed be wholly superfluous. 

The name of SIR KENELM DIGBY is almost 
synonymous with genius and eccentricity ; and his 
marriage with the beautiful VENETIA STANLEY, 
a lady of far purer birth than fame, has tended to 
create a lively interest in all which relates to him. 
Under feigned appellations, but to the greater pro- 
portion of which there is no difficulty in giving a 
key, Digby has detailed all the events of his life, 
from his childhood until his victory over the 
Venetian squadron at Scanderoon in June 1628; 
and as the narrative was solely written from feel- 
ings of affection for his wife, that celebrated 
woman is the heroine of his tale. 


That so curious an article should have hitherto 
escaped the attention of his Biographers, is not 
a little singular ; but it will be seen by the Me- 
moir which it was necessary to prefix to it, that it 
throws important light, not only upon Digby's 
own character, but also upon the character and 
conduct of Lady Venetia ; and many curious par- 
ticulars will also be found of the most distin- 
guished personages of their times. 

As in the introductory account of Sir Kenelm 
Digby, the question of the authenticity of the MS., 
which is -preserved in the Harleian Collection in 
the British Museum, No. 6758, is discussed, and 
every particular concerning it stated, any farther 
observations in this place are unnecessary. 

June 1st, 1827. 



THE difficulty of writing the life of so 
diversified a genius as Sir Kenelm Digby, 
has been justly considered a perilous task ; 
and that difficulty is but little lessened by 
the elaborate account of him in the " Bio- 
graphia Britannica," or the concise but in- 
comparable summary of his character by 
Mr. Lodge.* In the former of those pro- 
ductions, every fact which the industry of 
more than one editor could collect is co- 
piously detailed ; whilst the successful 
manner in which the biographer who is 
just alluded to, has selected all that is really 
important concerning him, stated those de- 
ductions which are to be made from his 

* Portraits of Illustrious Personages of Great Britain, 
with Biographical and Historical Memoirs. 



conduct, and clothed his narration and re- 
marks in the most polished and appro- 
priate language, render it impossible that 
this Memoir of him can excel the minute- 
ness of the one, or equal the terseness, the 
elegance, or the energy of the other. 

Nor will the attempt even be made : for 
the only hopes which can be entertained 
that this article will possess claims to at- 
tention of a different nature from former 
notices of Digby, are founded upon the 
curious particulars of his early life, and the 
life of the beautiful Venetia Stanley, his 
wife, which are presented under feigned 
names in this volume; the few unpublished 
letters which are introduced; and still 
more, upon the incontrovertible truth that 
scarcely two writers view the same facts in 
one light, and that it is only by such re- 
peated and various examinations of human 
conduct that the real merits of mankind 
can be discovered. 

Thus then, all which has been printed 
respecting Sir Kenelm Digby will be re- 
lated in as brief a manner as is consistent 
with the intention of giving a simple narra- 


tive of his life ; but the little which has been 
brought to light, either in this piece of 
autobiography, or from other sources, will 
be placed in that prominent view to which 
their novelty, if not their interest, entitle 
them. This is the more necessary, because, 
if it be proved that what is already known 
of him is consistent in the general features, 
in probability, and in dates, with his ac- 
count of transactions with which we now be- 
come acquainted for the first time, the value 
of his statements will be fully established. 
Kenelm Digby was the eldest son of Sir 
Everard Digby, one, and perhaps the most 
respectable, of the fanatic conspirators of 
the gunpowder treason, by Mary, daughter 
and co-heiress of William Mulsho, of Got- 
hurst, in Buckinghamshire, Esq. and was 
scarcely three years of age when his father 
expiated his crime upon the scaffold. The 
precise day of his birth has been the subject 
of far greater controversy than it deserved, 
but there can be no just grounds for doubt- 
ing that it occurred on the llth of Julie 3 , 
1603. As his father was attainted, he says 
he inherited nothing from him " but a foul 



stain in his blood :"* but such was not 
strictly true ; for two of Sir EverarcTs ma- 
nors, as well as his wife's property, having 
been entailed, the crown was defeated in the 
effort to take possession of them, and Digby 
is considered to have inherited an estate of 
3000/. per annum. His mother was a rigid 
Catholic, but submitted, Mr. Lodge con- 
siders, to her son being educated a Pro- 
testant from obvious political reasons; 
whilst his previous biographers conjecture 
that he was taken from her care when very 
young ; because at an early period he re- 
nounced the faith of his ancestors, and was 
placed under the tuition of Archbishop 
Laud, then Dean of Gloucester. Be this as 
it may, Digby is thought to have been 
a Protestant until he formally returned to 
the bosom of the Roman Catholic Church, 
about the year 1638; but, as it will after- 
ward be more fully pointed out, there are 
reasons for believing that he was a Catholic 
as early as 1623, in which case it may be 
fairly doubted whether he was ever, in re- 
ality, of any other religion. In 1618, when 

* P. 32. 


he was in his fifteenth year, he was sent to 
Oxford, and entered of Gloucester-hall, 
where the direction of his studies was com- 
mitted to Mr. Thomas Allen, one of the 
most eminent scholars of the time, who it is 
said, accepted the task from affection for the 
family of his pupil, and a high opinion of 
his genius and capacity, rather than from 
the ordinary motives of a college tutor. 
Digby remained at the university but two 
years, in which he obtained a splendid re- 
putation. Early in 1621, he proceeded 
on his travels, intending, if his own asser- 
tion is to be believed, to study for some 
time in the university of Paris;* but neither 
of his biographers give any other account 
of him between that year and 1623, when 
he returned to England, than they gleaned 
from a passage in one of his works, namely, 
that he attended on the Prince of Wales, 
afterward Charles the First, when his Royal 
Highness was at Madrid. Of that inte- 
resting period of Sir Kenelm's life, the en- 
suing memoir presents many singular par- 
ticulars, and as all of them which are ca- 

* P. 79. 


pable of proof are fully supported by evi- 
dence, as well as by the general history of 
the period, there seems to be no just 
ground for suspecting the fidelity of the 
outline, however much it may be necessary 
to allow for the high colouring of the 
picture. But, fortunately, the former only 
is required for the purpose of filling up 
the chasm. 

As it is impossible to avail ourselves of 
that information without alluding to the 
fair individual who became identified with 
Digby's fortunes, this is, perhaps, the most 
convenient place for introducing her. 
Venetia Stanley, to whose names one 
writer has also added that of Anastatia,* 
was one of the daughters, and, eventually, 
co-heirs of Sir Edward Stanley, of Tonge 
Castle in Shropshire, Knight of the Bath, 
eldest son of Sir Thomas Stanley, Knt. 
a younger son of Edward, third Earl of 
Derby, K. G. and was born on the 19th of 
December, 1600. Her mother was Lucy, 
daughter and co^heiress of Thomas Percy, 
seventh Earl of Northumberland, who, we 

* Hutchin's History of Dorset. 


learn from this memoir, died when she was 
but a few months old.* Truly, indeed, 
might Digby boast that his Venetia was 
" born of parents that, in the antiquity 
and lustre of their houses and in the goods 
of fortune, were inferior to none in Great 
Britain rf- and that some of her ancestors 
had exalted and pulled down Kings in 
England, and that their successors still 
have right to wear a regal crown upon 
their princely temples ; W J an allusion to the 
sovereignty of the Isle of Man, which was 
then possessed by the Earls of Derby. 
Her beauty and accomplishments equaled 
the lustre of her birth, but her character 
has been impeached in the most unquali- 
fied terms, and it must be confessed that 
there are many causes for believing in the 
accusations. This delicate subject cannot 
be passed over in silence, for as Digby 
himself alludes to rumours against her 
fame, the question demands that some 
attention should be given to it ; but it is 
first necessary to notice what he previously 
says of her. 

* P. 13. f Ibid. I P. 272. 


Sir Edward Stanley, he informs us, 
though a negligent husband, was so much 
afflicted at the loss of his wife, that he 
resolved on passing his life in absolute 
seclusion ; and therefore committed Ve- 
netia to the care of the wife of one of his 
relations, whose house was situated near 
to that of Lady Digby. This naturally 
produced frequent visits between the two 
families, and Kenelm became known to 
Venetia in his childhood, when a mutual 
attachment arose, and which " grew with 
their growth/' 

After a few years had thus passed 
away, Sir Edward Stanley sent for his 
daughter to his own house; but upon the 
marriage of the Princess Elizabeth with 
the Count Palatine, which soon afterward 
took place, he was summoned to the Court; 
and, being desirous of shewing her " the 
magnificent entertainments that are usual 
at such times, and also being glad to let 
the world now see that fame was nothing 
too lavish in setting out her perfections/' 
took Venetia with him to London ; where 
" her beauty and discretion did soon draw 


the eyes and thoughts of all men to ad- 

The royal alliance alluded to, occurred 
in February, 1613, -when she was but little 
more than thirteen years of age. To 
Aubrey, her detractor, we are indebted 
for the little which is known about her ; 
and some parts of his statement agree with 
Digby's, for he says, " She was a most 
beautiful desirable creature, and, being 
matura viro, was left by her father to live 
with a tenant at Enston Abbey, in Oxford- 
shire ; but, as private as that place was, it 
seems her beauty could not lie hid/'-f 
Enston is not more than thirty miles from 
Gothurst, the seat of Lady Digby ; and 
the only difference between the Memoir 
and Aubrey on the subject of Venetians 
residence is, that in the former the indi- 
vidual to whose care she was intrusted, is 
called her father's kinsman. 

Her extraordinary beauty, we are told, 
attracted the regard of Ursatius, one of the 

* P. 21. 

t Aubrey's Letters by Eminent Persons, vol. ii. p. 330, 


noblemen of the court, whose attentions, 
however, proved fruitless in consequence of 
her previous attachment to Digby. On her 
return home, she related what had occurred 
to her Governess, who being bribed by the 
nobleman in question, advocated his cause 
with much zeal ; and of course did all in 
her power to depreciate his rival. In the 
conversation between them, Digby makes 
her give some account of his situation, and 
adduces admirable reasons why his father's 
attainder should not prejudice him in the 
opinion of the world. 

A defence is also offered of Sir Everard's 
conduct, upon the ground that it did not 
arise from ambition but mistaken zeal 
for his country's liberties, and an inviolable 
faith to his friend who had entrusted him 
with a knowledge of the conspiracy. The 
Governess, finding her efforts unavailing, 
advised her noble employer to carry Ve- 
netia off by stealth ; and under the idea of 
meeting Digby, she was decoyed into his 
hands, when she was conveyed to a house 
in the country. Ursatius, of course, met 
her there, but deceived by the idea that 


she would ultimately consent to his suit, he 
treated her with respect, though it would 
appea rthat he addressed her in bed : but it 
is not easy to reconcile this part of the nar- 
rative with probability, for it seems that on 
reaching this house, she retired to rest; 
that in the evening Ursatius arrived and 
entered her room, when a long conversa- 
tion took place ; that in the midst of it 
the housekeeper brought supper, no one 
else being allowed to attend them; and that 
after their meal, he led Venetia into a 
garden. During the whole of this scene we 
are not informed when she rose, or if Ursa- 
tius once quitted the room, an inconsis- 
tency which is the more remarkable, from 
the connected manner in which the remain- 
ing part of the Memoir is related. Ve- 
netia, having gone to her chamber, me- 
ditated her escape, which she effected 
-by lowering herself out of the window, 
and thence let herself down from the 
garden wall. In her flight she was at- 
tacked by a wolf, but was rescued by 
Mardontius, a young nobleman who is 
subsequently a conspicuous character in the 


tale. His servants escorted her to the 
house of her relation Artesia, whose grand- 
daughter is intended by Lady Digby and 
that lady to be the wife of Kenelm. In an 
interview between Artesia and Venetia, 
the writer has introduced a description of 
himself and his younger brother, John. 
This sketch, though by no means remarkable 
for modesty, is exceedingly faithful, arid 
abundantly proves that Digby was well 
acquainted with his own character : it is 
also interesting for the compliments which 
it contains to his tutor, Mr. Allen. Aubrey 
says that Digby 's marriage was violently 
opposed by his mother, on account of 
Venetians immorality; but, though he ad- 
mits that his mother was averse to his 
attachment to her, he attributes it to 
some unkind nesses which had passed 
between Sir Everard Stanley and her, 
and to its interfering with the other alli- 
ance. The meetings between the lovers 
at Artesia's house are then mentioned, with 
an ample proportion of tender speeches 
on both sides, in one of which Kenelm 
informed her, that he had attained Lady 


Digby's permission to travel for two or 
three years, his chief object being to pre- 
vent his marriage with the object of his 
mother's choice, until he became of proper 
age to dispose of himself, when he would 
return and claim her hand. Venetia, 
finding herself coldly treated by her 
hostess in consequence of Kenelm's attach- 
ment, returned to London, where she had 
another interview with her lover, when 
they exchanged tokens of regard. He 
immediately proceeded to Paris, and re- 
mained there until, he says, the plague 
broke out, when he retired to Angers. 
Notice is then taken of the state of France, 
until the annihilation of the Queen's party 
at the battle of the Pont de Ce, on the 
8th of August 1620. Digby's account of 
her Majesty tends to confirm the opinion 
entertained of her lascivious conduct, for 
not only does he charge her with a crimi- 
nal connexion with the Marquis of Ancre, 
but asserts, that having attracted her at- 
tention at a masquerade at her court, 
she fell deeply in love with himself. Her 


attempts to induce him to consent to her 
overtures are detailed in far too glowing and 
unambiguous language to admit of being 
printed; but his constancy to Venetia served 
as an impregnable bulwark to his virtue. 
On escaping from her apartment, he met 
the King's troops forcing their way to it, 
and fearing the effects of her vengeance, he 
caused it to be reported that he was killed 
in the slaughter which ensued. 

From Angers he went to Italy and 
settled at Florence, whence he wrote to 
Venetia to inform her of his health, but his 
letters miscarried, and she consequently 
gave credence to the news of his death. 
Her grief is pourtrayed in the quaint elo- 
quence for which Digby is distinguished ; 
and having shut herself up from all society 
excepting that of Mardontius who had 
saved her life when escaping from Ursatius, 
he became deeply enamoured of her beauty, 
and pressed his suit with considerable 
zeal. Though she refused his addresses, 
Fame, " that monster which was begot of 
some fiend in hell and feedeth itself upon 


the infected breath of the base multitude," 
reported that an improper intercourse 
existed between them which Kenelm partly 
attributes to his speaking more lavishly of 
her favours than he had ground for. 

The reports, however, induced her, at 
the earnest request of her friends, to con- 
sent to marry Mardontius, who caused 
splendid preparations to be made for their 
nuptials, and " had her portrait painted by 
an excellent workman, which picture he 
used to shew as a glorious trophy of her 
conquered affections." 

To return to Digby. All the letters 
which he had written to her were, he 
says, intercepted by his mother; and whilst 
pondering on the cause of Venetians silence, 
intelligence was brought him at Florence of 
her approaching marriage, with the cause of 
it, which " went much to the prejudice of 
her honour/' The philosophy upon which 
he prided himself was overwhelmed by the 
tidings, and he gave unrestrained vent to 
his rage and disappointment. Mardontius 
proved faithless to his engagement being 
momentarily inveigled in the country by 


some rustic beauty, and Venetia treated 
all his subsequent efforts to obtain her 
hand with proper contempt. 

At this period of his history, Digby says, 
he pauses, because, " his future actions be- 
came mingled with those of great princes." 
John Digby, first Earl of Bristol, his dis- 
tant relation, who was then at Madrid ne- 
gotiating the marriage of Prince Charles, 
having heard of Kenelm's reputation, 
invited him to Spain, with which he com- 
plied. On his journey, he says, he met a 
Bramin, and we are favoured with a long 
argument on the influence of the stars on 
mankind, and similar mystical subjects; 
and are told that the Magician conjured 
up a spirit of Venetia, through whose 
agency he became convinced that her 
honour was unsullied, and that her faults 
were only " a little indulgency of a gentle 
nature which sprung from some indiscre- 
tion, or rather want of experience, that 
made her liable to censure/' He was re- 
ceived by the Earl at Madrid with great 
kindness, and supped with him on his ar- 
rival ; but on his return to his house with 


Leodivius, who appears to have been a son 
of Lady Digby by her first husband Sir 
John Dive, of Bromham in Bedfordshire, 
Knight, they were waylaid by fifteen men 
instigated by an individual who was jea- 
lous of Leodivius. Digby killed two of the 
assassins which fulfilled a prediction of the 
spirit, who desired him to consider the 
accomplishment of that prophecy as evi- 
dence of the truth of what he had told 
him of Venetians virtue. 

Charles and the Duke of Buckingham's 
romantic expedition to Spain is then 
mentioned: it is said that they arrived at 
Madrid the day after Digby 's rencontre, 
and some curious facts are related about 
the dispute between the Duke and the Earl 
of Bristol. Kenelm was employed in these 
negociations, and appears, from his influ- 
ence with the Archbishop of Toledo, to 
have facilitated the Ambassador's plans ; 
and at his relation's desire, he attached him- 
self to his Prince's service. A remark of 
Lord Kensington, afterward Earl of Hol- 
land, who was then at Madrid, on his in- 
difference to the charms of the Spanish la- 



dies, induced Digby to devote himself to a 
distinguished beauty of the court, of whom 
that nobleman was really enamoured, with 
the view of convincing his Lordship of his 
powers of conquest, if he chose to em ploy 
them. His progress soon exceeded his 
hopes, and her attachment made so much 
noise, that news of it reached England and 
the ears of Venetia. He was urged by his 
friends to marry her, but his first attachment 
was so firmly rooted in his heart as to render 
him unable to listen to their advice ; nor 
were the entreaties of the fair object her- 
self attended with greater success. 

At the suggestion of the Duke of Buck- 
ingham, Charles determined to return to 
England, notwithstanding that he sincerely 
admired the Spanish Princess. The Duke's 
conduct is censured in severe terms, and 
after allowing for the partial view which 
the writer was naturally inclined to take of 
his relative's merits, there is some justice in 
his charges. Kenelm was appointed to at- 
tend the Prince on his return, who was re- 
ceived in London, we are told, with every 
demonstration of attachment ; but he says 


he did not witness the joyful acclamations, 
for no sooner had he landed, than he was 
seized with a serious illness, which confined 
him for several days. As no dates occur in 
the Memoir, it may be necessary to observe 
that Prince Charles disembarked at Ports- 
mouth, according to an eye-witness, on 
Sunday, the 5th of October, 1623, at nine 
o'clock in the morning. 

The Duke of Buckingham's efforts to 
prejudice the King against Lord Bristol, 
and the political measures adopted after the 
Prince's arrival, are then noticed, but the 
account differs in nothing from the usual his- 
tories of the period ,excepting that he defends 
Bristol with a zeal which did him honour. 
On entering London, Digby informs us 
he accidentally met Venetia. Her beauty, 
he says, seemed brighter than ever, " but 
she sat so pensively on one side of the 
coach by herself, as Apelles might have 
taken her counterfeit to express Venus sor- 
rowing for her beloved Adonis." Having 
sent his servant to obtain her permission, 
he waited upon her the next day, when she 
explained every thing which had occurred 


in so satisfactory a manner, that he was con- 
vinced he had treated her with injustice, and 
their attachment was renewed with increas- 
ed ardour ; but he was cautious, he adds, not 
to pledge himself too far, in consequence 
of the rumour respecting Mardontius. 

Either from a belief in that report, or from 
the overwhelming influence of those baser 
feelings which but ill agreed with the phi- 
losophy upon which he piqued himself, he 
attempted to obtain possession of Venetians 
person without the sanction of marriage. 
Her indignation is described to have been 
such as would become a paragon of chas- 
tity, nor was it without signs of the deepest 
repentance on his part, that he was again 
admitted to her favour. From that time 
their hearts were, he says, joined in a 
fraternal affection, which " confuted the 
opinion of those who consider that the laws 
of a high and divine friendship cannot be 
observed where a woman hath a part;" but 
we shall presently see how long this platonic 
regard continued. At that moment Mr. 
Clerk, a gentleman of the Prince's bed- 
chamber, fell deeply in love with Venetia, 


but perceiving that it was not returned, he 
entreated his friend Digby to intercede with 
her on his behalf. Such was the high sense 
which Kenelm entertained of the duties of 
friendship, that " though he would rather 
have died than seen her in any other man's 
possession," yet he became Clerk's earnest 
advocate ; but Venetia was deaf to his en- 
treaties. From several folios, which it was 
impossible to print, it seems that Digby 
made another attempt upon the chastity of 
his immaculate Venetia, for calling upon 
her one morning before she had risen, he 
entered her bed whilst she was asleep. Her 
displeasure on discovering her situation, 
Digby does not attempt to conceal, and 
adduces his repulse as additional evidence 
of her virtue, and consequently of the false- 
hood of the reports against her character. 
She of course ordered him to quit the place 
he had so surreptitiously gained ; to which 
he consented only, upon the condition that 
she sang to him while he dressed himself. 
Upon quitting her, he meditates for some 
time upon the "miraculous perfections" 
which he had seen, and concludes that she 


"was endowed with a most noble mind, a 
sweet and virtuous disposition, a generous 
heart, a full and large understanding, admira- 
ble discretion and modesty and a true sense 
of honour; all which were accompanied 
with other virtues that serve to make a lady 
complete; and these were lodged in so fair a 
body, thatif shehad been in those times when 
men committed idolatry, the world would 
certainly have renounced the sun, the stars, 
and all other their devotions, and with one 
consent have adored her for their goddess/' 
Few persons perhaps will be disposed 
to consider Digby as a very competent 
judge of " discretion and modesty ;" but 
in every thing relating to the object of his 
devotion, he seems to have laboured under 
a perversion of intellect. It is doubtful, 
however, if love had so completely affected 
his judgment as to have induced him to 
marry her, had not another feeling been 
called into action ; but when ardent gra- 
titude is added to affection, and the object 
of both is one of the most beautiful crea- 
tures, that ever adorned this earth, who is 
there that can answer for his conduct ? 


Under such circumstances the very devia- 
tion from propriety of a man uniting him- 
self to a woman of suspicious or even of 
immoral character, emanates from the best 
feelings of the human heart; and that 
which under ordinary circumstances justly 
excites our contempt, assumes a very dif- 
ferent complexion. If we cannot, or rather, 
if from a regard to the best interests of so- 
ciety we dare not applaud such an action, 
it is at least difficult to view it with se- 
verity. He informs us that having been 
appointed to accompany the Duke of 
Buckingham in his embassy to the French 
Court, for the marriage between Prince 
Charles and Henrietta Maria, and being 
anxious to equip himself in a manner 
which might evince his respect for his royal 
master, his friends thought he would find 
much difficulty in raising money at so 
short a notice, adequate to the heavy ex- 
penses which were necessary. To meet 
his exigencies, however, Venetia, with true 
womanly kindness, and that spontaneous 
generosity which forms so noble a trait in 
her sex, instantly pawned her jewels and 


plate. " Having gathered a large sum," for 
Digby shall relate it in his own words, 
" she sent it to him, entreating him to make 
use of it without cumbering his estate, 
which, consisting of settled rents, would 
soon quit a greater debt; and thus she 
made him at once master of all she had, 
or could hope for. This generous ac- 
tion/' he adds, " sunk so deep into his 
heart, that the previous obstacle to his 
marriage," which arose from the dissuasions 
of some of his friends, and particularly his 
mother, was no longer allowed to prevail. 
In contempt of the world's 

-" dread laugh, 

Which scarce the firm philosopher can scorn." 

and in contempt too of his better judgment, 
he resolved to make her his wife. If he may 
be believed, his own feelings were not the 
only impediment to his union,but that it was 
opposed in a quarter where opposition was 
least to be expected. Venetia, he tells us, 
with a refinement of delicacy, refused to 
marry one man when another possessed her 
picture, given under a promise of marriage. 
All Digby 's efforts to convince her that 


her opinions were erroneous, were unsuc- 
cessful; and he was obliged, by challenging 
Mardontius, to force him to restore it. 
Without drawing his sword, he placed the 
portrait in Digby's hands, accompanied by 
a written declaration, that if ever he had 
uttered a word derogatory to her honour, 
he had falsely slandered her. 

Here it becomes necessary to contrast 
this account with the character which has 
been given of Venetia Stanley by Aubrey. 
He says, that " she had one if not more 
children by the Earl of Dorset, who set- 
tled on her an annuity of 500/. per annum, 
which, after Sir Kenelm Digby married, 
was unpaid by the Earl : Sir Kenelm sued 
the Earl after marriage, and recovered it. 
Sir Edmund Wyld had her picture, and, 
you may imagine, was very familiar with 
her. After her marriage she redeemed her 
honour by her strict living ; she and her 
husband were invited once a year by the 
Earl of Dorset, when with much desire and 
passion he beheld her, and only kissed her 
hand ; Sir Kenelm being still by/' 

These statements cannot be reconciled 


with the scrupulously delicate conduct im- 
puted to her by Digby ; and we might be 
inclined to doubt the justice of Aubrey's 
assertions, were it not manifest from the 
Memoir itself, that rumours, highly injurious 
to her character, existed. Nor is it certain 
that Digby disbelieved them ; for in the 
elaborate defence of his marriage to the 
Earl of Bristol, towards the end of the 
volume, some passages will be found in 
which he defends his union, notwithstand- 
ing she might, previously to it, have for- 
feited all claims to respect. His argu- 
ments, however little they may convince, 
are excessively ingenious, and display that 
subtlety of intellect and profound casuistry 
for which he was celebrated. Without 
actually using the coarse expression as- 
signed to him by Aubrey, " that a hand- 
some lusty man, that was discreet, might 
make a virtuous wife out of a brothel house/' 
we find several remarks of a similar ten- 
dency ; and so far does he carry his absurd 
theory respecting the moral conduct of 
women, that, in a passage which has been 
necessarily suppressed, he contends that 


their honour does not consist only in chas- 
tity, and that cases may occur in which 
it is justifiable for a man to consent to his 
wife's pollution ! If these were Digby's real 
opinions, they afford us a striking but me- 
lancholy confirmation of the remark that 

" Great genius is to madness near allied." 

Upon the very critical question of that 
lady's virtue it is almost impossible to 
form a decisive opinion. The most serious 
cause for suspecting it, is the manner in 
which her husband has defended her; for 
part, at least, of Aubrey's charges will not 
bear even the slightest investigation. The 
Earl of Dorset, by whom he says she had 
one if not more children, was Richard Sack- 
ville, the third Earl of Dorset,who was born 
in March, 1589, and who in 1609 married 
Ann the daughter and heiress of George 
Earl of Cumberland. He was the son of Ro- 
bert the second Earl, and was consequently 
the grandson instead of the " eldest son 
and heir to the Lord Treasurer ;" and as Ve- 
netia Stanley was not born until December 
J600, his connexion with her could not 
have commenced long before her fifteenth 


year, at which time he had been six years 
a husband. It is therefore, of course, pos- 
sible that an improper attachment subsisted 
between them some time between 16 16 
and March 1624, when the Earl died ; but 
the corroborating evidence of the fact, ad- 
duced by Aubrey, that Digby, after his mar- 
riage, sued Lord Dorset for the annuity 
which he had settled upon her, and the 
story of their dining with him once a year, 
when he kissed her hand, &c. could only 
have existed in that writer's imagination, 
for the Earl actually died before Venetians 
marriage ; nor is there any notice of 
a trial of the kind, against his heirs or 
executors, reported. Thus, then, as the 
greater part of Aubrey's account is proved 
to have been false, we may at least hesi- 
tate in believing his other statements ; 
especially as, independently of the Earl of 
Dorset, they consist only of inferences. 
Notwithstanding the equivocal nature of 
Sir Kenelm's arguments in favour of his 
wife's reputation, it must not be forgotten 
that from some parts it would seem he was 
fully impressed that the reports, which he 


admits were in circulation, were false ; that 
her conduct towards him was marked by 
the greatest delicacy and propriety ; and 
that instead of eagerly burying her disho- 
nour under the name of his wife, it was not 
until he had restored to her a trifling pledge 
of her former affection for another indivi- 
dual, that she yielded to his urgent and 
incessant entreaties to marry him. On 
the other hand, we find that he himself 
twice attempted to seduce her, and al- 
though the repulse which he encountered 
on both occasions might be adduced by 
him as proof of her virtue, the effort speaks 
but little in favour of his real opinion of it; 
that his friends were violent in their disap- 
probation of his marriage ; and more than 
all, that in his defence of his union, instead 
of solely resting upon her innocence, he 
descends to such miserable sophistry as 
that "she ought not to be less valued for 
her former affection, since looking into the 
reality of it, and finding it to be on worthy 
grounds of her side, you must consent that 
her innocence is not impeached ;" that " a 
wise man should not confine himself to what 


may be said of the past actions of his wife ;" 
that her beauty, wit, and splendid descent 
were far more essential objects ; that " if in- 
discreet unstay edy outh, or rather childhood , 
have at any time cast a mist over her judg- 
ment, and so caused some innocent error in 
any of her actions, the goodness of her na- 
ture hath converted it into this benefit, that 
she is fully warned and armed never to 
incur the like;" that " what was done having 
left nothing which could really be taken 
hold of, it should not be considered so much 
as the present state of the soul and mind;" 
" that the clearest brooks have some mud/' 
by the absurd and criminal opinions which 
have been alluded to ; and similar prepos- 
terous remarks. 

They were, we are told , privately married ; 
and as their eldest child was born in October 
1625, the ceremony probably took place in 
the January preceding, though at Digby 's 
request it was kept secret from the world. 
Their intercourse naturally gave rise to 
observations, and his cousin Robert 
Digby, who became the first Lord Digby 
in Ireland, having remonstrated with him 


on the subject, he entered into a long dis- 
course in defence of the passion of Love ; 
and afterwards at his request, described a 
personal contest which had taken place 
between him and an individual whom he 
calls Famelicus, and who, like themselves, 
was a gentleman of the Prince's bed- 
chamber, but whose name it is impossible 
to discover. This he explains at some 
length, though it is only necessary to state 
that, instigated by malice, the person 
in question had asserted he had received the 
last favour from Venetia, in consequence 
of which Digby instantly challenged him. 
Finding his life at stake, he confessed the 
falsehood of hisslander,andconsequently ob- 
tained thereputation of" anindiscreet, rash, 
and dishonest co ward " whilst those who had 
combined with him, but whose real names 
are uncertain, were considered as " mali- 
cious, unworthy, and cankered wretches/' 

It is not a little extraordinary that Digby 
should omit to mention, that on his return 
from Spain he received the honour of 
Knighthood, which was conferred upon 
him on the 23d of October, 1623, at Lord 


Montague's house at Hinchinbroke in the 
presence of Prince Charles and the Duke 
of Buckingham, when the King paid him 
some high compliments on his erudition. 

It must also have been about this time 
that he discovered his celebrated sympa- 
thetic powder ; and the omission of any no- 
tice of it in his Memoirs, is not less singular. 
The curious reader will find an ample ac- 
count of it in Sir Kenelm's " Discourse 
upon the Sympathetic Powder/' from 
which a copious extract has been made in 
the " Biographia Britannica ;" but it is 
sufficient to observe of it here, that it con- 
sisted of applying a certain mixture to any 
thing which had received the blood of a 
wounded person, who obtained instant 
relief from the application, even if he 
were not present. Digby says, he learnt 
the secret from a friar in Italy, to whom he 
had rendered some essential kindnesses ; 
and an instance of its efficacy on Mr. 
Howell is fully detailed. The circumstance 
attracted the attention of King James and 
the Court, and tended in no small degree 
to his reputation. 


Of his marriage, Sir Kenelm gives us 
some curious particulars ; and we learn that 
Lady Digby's confinement was hastened 
by a fall from a horse. Her labour was 
attended, he says, with great danger, from 
her resolution to abide by his wish that it 
might be kept secret; and he of course 
seizes the opportunity of extolling her for- 
titude and firmness. 

As soon as she could be left with safety, 
he returned to town, when the conversation 
occurred between the Earl of Bristol and 
himself, relative to Venetia, which has been 
cited. It was interrupted, we are in- 
formed, by the arrival of his Lordship's 
solicitor, who came to report the judgment 
which had just been pronounced relative to 
the proceedings against him by the Court, 
the enmity of which had, it is well known, 
through the jealousy and hatred of Buck- 
ingham, been powerfully excited against 
him. At Sir Kenelm's request, the Earl 
related the manner in which he had been 
treated, from which it seems that as the 
evidence of Sir Kenelm and Robert Digby 
was necessary for his defence, Buckingham 



caused two of his kinsmen and dependants 
to challenge them to meet them at some 
place on the continent, with the view of 
keeping them out of the way; that the 
Digbys accordingly repaired thither; but 
that the want of the personal testimony of 
Kenelm was supplied by a letter which he 
addressed to the Earl; and that, on his re- 
turn, he boldly justified his own conduct 
to the King. It is unnecessary to follow 
Sir Kenelm through his vindication of the 
Earl of Bristol, for that nobleman's con- 
duct stands fair in the eyes of posterity. 

At this period of his life, Digby says, he 
deemed it necessary to prove to the world 
that his devotion to Venetia had not lessen- 
ed " the nobleness of his mind, nor abated 
the edge of his active and vigorous spirits ;" 
and he therefore resolved to undertake some 
object which would both tend to his own 
honour and the King's service. When 
his Majesty knew his wishes, " he gave 
him an extraordinary and very honourable 
commission to take in hand a voyage by 
sea." The commission in question is dated 
on the 15th November, 3 Car. I. 1627, in 


which he is styled " Sir Kenelm Digby, 
Knt. one of the Gentlemen of our Privy 
Chamber/'* and on the 29th December 
following he sailed with a small squadron. 
He tells us, that so far from finding difficulty 
in procuring followers, his greatest trouble 
was to defend himself from the importunity 
of those persons of rank who wished to ac- 
company him. Though from the envy of 
some and " the malignity of fortune/' he 
met with serious obstacles to his design, san- 
guine hopes were entertained of his success ; 
hopes which, it will be seen, were not dis- 
appointed. The affection of Venetia was 
put to a severe trial by his departure, and 
he eloquently describes their feelings on 
the occasion. Besides the situation of 
Gentleman of the Bedchamber, Digby is 
said to have held those of a Commissioner 
of the Navy, and a Governor of the Trinity 
House. According to the most recent of 
his biographers, whom it would be injustice 
to the reader to quote in any other lan- 
guage than his own, " On the accession 
of Charles the First, Sir Kenelm Digby 

* Foedera, tome xviii. p. 947. 

d 2 


became one of the chief ornaments of 
Whitehall. Charles, who did not love 
gaiety, highly esteemed him, however, for 
his admirable talents ; but to the Queen, 
who before her misfortunes had a very 
lively disposition, he rendered himself in- 
finitely agreeable, and she seems to have 
conceived a friendship for him which lasted 
through life. He was a party in all the 
royal diversions, which indeed he fre- 
quently planned and directed; and such 
were the volubility of his spirits, and the 
careless elegance of his manners, that it 
should have seemed that he had been bred 
from his infancy in a court/'* 

Before he quitted England he acquainted 
his friend, the Earl of Bristol, with his 
marriage, who promised not only to shew 
Lady Digby every possible respect and 
attention during his absence, but to do 
what might be in his power to justify it to 
the world. On the day of his embarkation 
Sir Kenelm received intimation of the 
birth of his second son, John, which took 
place on the 29th December, 1627 ; and 

* Lodge's Illustrious Portraits. 


he, in consequence, wrote to desire that 
Venetia would no longer conceal their 
union. The favourable prospects under 
which Digby sailed, were of short conti- 
nuance, for before he had been long at sea 
a violent disease broke out in his ships, 
which swept away a great part of his men. 
His officers solicited him to return, but he 
succeeded in convincing them that it was 
wiser to persevere ; and a favourable wind 
springing up, he proceeded on his voyage. 
It is impossible to say what place he de- 
signates under the name of Rhodes, where 
he refreshed his people and refitted the fleet, 
but most probably Sally, or some other port 
on the coast of Barbary. From thence he 
sailed in prosecution of the object of the ex- 
pedition, which, he tells us, was to interrupt 
the trade of the French in Spain and Por- 
tugal, in silks and other commodities which 
those countries produce; and by this means, 
the English might gain it, and make " their 
country the staple for the manufacture and 
vent of so rich a traffic/' At Scanderoon, 
" where was the period of his design," he 
found a number of French and Venetian 


vessels ; and the commanders of the latter, 
not contented with declaring their resolution 
to defend the French squadron, in conse- 
quence of the treaty which existed between 
France and Venice, insolently warned Digby 
to quit the port, or they would sink his 
ships. We are thus furnished with the 
cause of the engagement, to which Ben 
Johnson thus alludes, 

" Witness thy action done at Scanderoon 
Upon thy birth-day, the eleventh of June." 

Having made every preparation for bat- 
tle, he addressed his men in a speech, of 
which he has taken care to give us the heads, 
to excite their bravery, and then imme- 
diately placed his own ship alongside of 
that of the admiral of the enemy ; and his 
example being followed by his captains, 
they soon gained a complete victory. The 
Venetians, he says, sent to beg a shameful 
peace, and, at the same instant, he boarded 
and took by force the French vessels; so 
that, in a few hours, his triumph was com- 
plete. \ 

With this event, Sir Kenelm Digby 's 
narrative ends ; but the explanation which 


he has given of his motive for writing it, 
and his wish that it might never be read 
by others, is, perhaps, the most interesting 
part of his lucubrations. He commences 
with expressing a hope, that if by accident 
the MS. should ever fall into any person's 
hands but his own, " this last scrawl may 
beg pardon for the rest/' His object in 
composing the Memoir appears to have 
been to preserve his virtue ; for, having been 
separated from his fleet by a storm which 
forced him into an island, which he calls 
Milo, where he remained to repair his 
ship, he was invited on shore by the chief 
persons of the place; and his host, to 
divert him from the retirement which he 
courted, obligingly offered to interest some 
ladies on his behalf, " who, in all ages, have 
been known to be no niggards of their 
favours," and which might, he says, have 
been willingly accepted by an individual 
in his situation, had he not had his thoughts 
filled with the remembrance of so divine a 
creature as his Venetia. To avoid, there- 
fore, giving offence by a refusal, he pre- 
tended to have man}' dispatches to write ; 


but, as his facility in composition was 
always very great, he observes, he soon 
finished his letters, and then resolved to 
commit to paper such events in his life as 
related to the fair object of his contem- 
plation. He then "gives warning before 
hand, that no man hath reason to lose any 
time in perusing so trivial a discourse of a 
young and unstayed head, which was, at 
the first, begun only for my own recreation, 
and then continued, and since preserved 
only for my own private content ;" and 
concludes by requesting some friendly hand 
to convert " these blotted sheets into a 
clear flame/' should they survive him, 
"which funeral fire will be welcome obse- 
quies to my departed soul ; who, till then, 
will be in continual fear that the world 
may have occasion to renew the memory 
of my indiscretion, and condemn me then 
as much for want of judgment in writing, 
as formerly it hath done for too deep 
passion in my actions/' That the MS. 
was not destroyed, is fortunate for those 
who are gratified by perusing the descrip- 
tion which genius gives of itself, as well as 


for Digby's memory, as it contains many 
facts highly creditable to his character, 
and tends, in some degree, to redeem that 
of his wife ; whilst much light is thrown by 
it upon the early part of his career. As a 
piece of autobiography it is, perhaps, one 
of the most extraordinary which is extant, 
and every line bears striking evidence of 
the peculiar temper and still more singular 
opinions of the writer. 

The MS. which is called by Digby 
"Loose Fan tasies," is in his own hand, and 
contains proof of having been frequently 
and most carefully revised. No other 
liberty has been taken with it than to ex- 
punge a few pages which the delicacy of 
the present day would not allow of being 
published ; but the narrative is never in- 
terrupted by these omissions, for they con- 
sist only of conversations or remarks that 
occurred on occasions which are suffi- 
ciently noticed either in this Introduction 
or in the Memoir. 

From that time until 1632, little is known 
of Sir Kenelm Digby 's life ; but upon the 
death of Lord Dorchester, one of the prin- 


cipal Secretaries of State, in February in 
that year, it was reported that he was to be 
appointed to his office:* the rumour proved, 
however, to be unfounded. 

About that period he distinguished him- 
self by an act which never fails to secure 
posthumous fame, for his former tutor, Mr. 
Thomas Allen, having then died, his valu- 
able library came into his possession, and 
which he soon afterwards presented to 
the Bodleian. Some writers assert that 
Digby purchased these books of Allen dur- 
ing his life, though he generously allowed 
him the use of them ; but, according to 
Kippis, he obtained them under a bequest 
in Allen's will. The discrepancy in these 
statements is, however, set at rest by the 
annexed letter to Sir Robert Cotton, in the 
Cottonian collection, which is y it is believed, 
for the first time printed, as we learn from 
it that Mr. Allen informed Digby of his in- 
tention to give them to him, and that he 
requested Sir Robert to see that they were 
conveyed to him in a legal manner. 

* Ellis's Original Letters. Second Series, vol. iii. p. 266. 


To my Honourable Friend Sir Robert Cotton, at 
his house in Westminster. 


BY your permission I send you here enclosed two let- 
ters for Oxford, one to Mr. James, the other to Mr. 
Allen ; both which I beseech you let be sent under 
your cover. If you think fit, you may please to take 
notice to Mr. Allen, how I report myself to be much 
beholden to him for his friendly giving me his books 
and papers ; and to thank him in my behalf, and to 
confirm his choice of me by such motives as may oc- 
cur to you ; and to advise him to settle them in a direct 
and legal manner. You may be bold to assure him, 
that in my hands they will not be with less honourable 
memory of him than in any man's else ; nor can they 
be with any body that will gladlier communicate 
them to them that can make use of them ; which are 
the two ends he hath reason to look after in disposing 
of them. And besides I believe he will say I have 
not merited the least regard among his friends. I 
pray you also write to Mr. James what you shall judge 
may conduce by his endeavours to this my desire ; 
whom I should be glad, if it may be done fitly, might 
make a catalogue of all the books, papers, and instru- 
ments ; and then might also be a witness to Mr. 
Allen's giving them to me. All which I refer to your 
wisdom and good directions. 

I was yesterday at the Court, where there was ho- 
nourable mention of you at my Lord of Dorset's and 
in the presence of my Lord Treasurer; which occa- 
sion I failed not to take hold of to do you all the 


right I could. And truly I must tell you that I find 
very good inclinations towards you, and I attribute 
the not clearing of your business only to a certain 
slowness, that unless it be quickened now accom- 
panieth all things; and that quickening must pro- 
ceed mainly from yourself. Your friends can but dis- 
pose things fairly, your own solicitation must be the 
ground to move upon, and I doubt not but you will 
have a fair passage. 

In negotiating all which, and all things else that 
may be of service to you, I will employ myself with 
as much affection and heat as any servant you have. 
I pray you excuse me, I wait not on you myself now, 
for I am not very well and my coach is lame; within 
a few days I will attend you, but I think I shall first 
go to Court again where I will not omit to remember 
serving you if I can. Thus kissing your hands, I rest, 
Your humble Servant, 

Charterhouse Yard, this present Thursday. 

Whilst alluding to Digby's munificent 
gift to the Bodleian Library, it is proper 
to refer to a passage in his letter to Dr. 
Langbaine, dated on the 7th November, 
1654,-f relative to the conditions upon which 
his present was to be enjoyed, because it 
reflects immortal honour upon his memory. 

Cotton, MSS. Vespasianus, F. xiii. f. 330. ORIGINAL. 
f Printed in Aubrey's Letters. 


It displays, in the most striking colours, 
not merely his own love of science, but his 
anxiety that every possible facility should 
be given for its diffusion. With the true 
clerical feeling of the seventeenth and 
which unhappily is not quite extinct even 
in the nineteenth century, some restric- 
tions were proposed to be introduced, as 
to the manner in which permission was to 
be given for transcribing the MSS. which 
seemed to the noble mind of the donor 
to circumscribe the knowledge of their 
contents. His remark on the subject de- 
serves to be written in letters of gold. 

" The propositions you sent me a tran- 
script of, methinketh are very good ones ; 
only toward the end of the sixth it seemeth 
to me there is too great a restriction ; for 
since all good things are the better the 
more they are communicated, I see no 
reason but that he who hath not conve- 
nience to print what he hath copied, should 
keep his transcript by him." 

On the 1st of May, 1633, Sir Kenelm 
Digby sustained an irreparable loss in the 
death of his lovely wife. She died very 


suddenly, in her thirty-third year, and 
such was the envy and malice by which he 
was pursued, that it was even insinuated 
that he had poisoned her from jealousy. 
Upon opening her head very little brain 
was found, which her husband is absurdly 
reported to have imputed to her drinking 
viper wine ; " but spiteful women/' adds 
Aubrey, " would say it was a viper hus- 
band who was jealous of her." Digby's 
conduct on the occasion was as eccentric 
as almost every other act of his life. He re- 
tired to Gresham College, and amused him- 
self with chemistry and the conversation of 
the professor : " he wore there a long mourn- 
ing cloak, a high-cornered hat, his beard un- 
shorn, looked like a hermit, as signs of sor- 
row for his beloved wife/' Lady Digby 
was buried in Christ's church, near New- 
gate, " in a brick vault/' Aubrey informs us, 
" over which were three steps of black marble, 
with four inscriptions in copper gilt, affixed 
to it ; upon this altar was her bust of copper 
gilt, all which, unless the vault, which was 
only opened a little by the fall, is 'utterly 
destroyed by the great conflagration. 


About 1675-6, as I was walking through 
Newgate-street, I saw Dame Venetians bust 
standing at a stall at the Golden Cross, a 
brazier's shop. I presently remembered it, 
but the fire had got off the gilding; but 
taking notice of it to one that was with me, 
I could never see it afterward exposed to the 
street. They melted it down/' A mise- 
rable engraving of the monument is inserted 
in the " Antiquarian Repertory/' with the 
following inscription, which was probably 
only one of the four mentioned by Aubrey: 

Mem. Sacrum. 


Edwardi Stanley Equitis Honoratiss. Ord. 

Balnei (Filii Thomae, Edwardi comitis Derbise 

Filii) Filiae ac cohaeredi, ex Lucia Thomae 

Comitis Northumbriae Filia et Cohaerede, 

Kenelmus Digby Eques Auratus 

Cui quatuor Peperit Filios 

Kenelmum Nat. vi. Octob. MDCXXY. 

Joannem Nat. xxix. Decemb. MDCXXVII. 

Everardum (in cunis Mortuum) Nat. xn. Jan. 


Georgium Nat. xvn. Jan. MDCXXXH. 
Nataest Decemb. xix. MDC. 
Denata Maii. i. MDCXXXIII. 


Quin lex eadem monet omnes 
Gemitum dare sorte sub una 
Cognataque funera nobis 
Aliena in morte dolere. 

Another of those inscriptions is thus given 
in Collins' Peerage : 

Insig: prseclariss. Dominse D. Venetise Digby 
Familia Stanleyorum, Com. Darbise ex parte 
Patris, et Perciorum, Com. Northumbriae 
Materno.jure, aliisque quamplurimis Christian. 
Orbis Principibus oriundae. 

The famous Ben Johnson lived on terms 
of great intimacy with Sir Kenelm and 
Lady Digby, and after her death he com- 
posed a long poem in honour of her, en- 
titled "Eupheme," which occurs in his 
works, and from which the subjoined is an 
extract : 

" She was in one a many parts of life ; 

A tender mother, a discreeter wife, 

A solemn mistress, and so good a friend, 

So charitable to religious end 

In all her petite actions so devote, 

As her whole life was now become one note 

6f piety and private holiness." 

Whilst speaking of that distinguished 


writer, a letter will be inserted relative to 
him, to Doctor Duppa, afterwards Bishop 
of Chichester, from Sir Kenelm Digby, in 
consequence of the Doctor's intention of 
collecting for publication all the compli- 
mentary verses that had been written on 
Johnson's decease, and which subsequently 
appeared, under the title of " Johnsonius 

To Doctor Duppa, the Dean of Christchurch, 
and the Prince's Tutor. 


I UNDERSTAND, with much gladness, you have been 
careful to gather what has been written upon Mr. John- 
son since his death. It is an office well beseeming that 
excellent piety that all men know you by ; yet were 
but half performed if you should let it rest here. As 
your own tenderness towards that worthy man hath 
made you seek to bathe yourself in his friends' tears, 
so your humanity towards the public, which good men 
rejoice to see you in the way so much to advance, 
ought not to be satisfied until you have given it a pro- 
priety in these collections. Besides, I believe, if care 
of earthly things touch souls happily departed, that 
these compositions delivered to the world by your 
hand, will be more grateful obsequies to his great 
ghost, than any other that could have been performed 
at his tomb ; for no Court's decree can better establish 
n lawful claimer in the secure possession of his right, 


than this will him of his laurel, which, when he lived, 
he wore so high above all men's reach, as none could 
touch, much less shake from off' his reverend head. I 
am writing, by this private incitement of you unto so 
just a work, to witness in a particular manner to your- 
self, who loved him dearly, the great value and esteem 
I have of this brave man ; the honour of his age ; and 
he that set a period to the perfection of our language : 
and will, as soon as I can do the like to the world, by 
making it share with me in those excellent pieces, alas 
that many of them are but pieces ! which he hath left be- 
hind him, and that I keep religiously by me to that end. 
I promise myself that your goodness and friendliness 
to me will pardon me for that awhile diverting your 
thoughts, that are continually busied about what is of 
great consequence, knowing me to be, 

Your most affectionate and humble servant.* 

Early in 1636, Digby publicly reconciled 
himself to the Church of Rome; and Arch- 
bishop Laud's reply to the intimation which 
he had given him that such was his resolu- 

* Harleian MSS.4153, f. 21. The same volume contains 
amongst several other articles by Digby, a copy of along let- 
ter from him to Doctor Hakewill, Archdeacon of Surrey, dated 
London, 1 3th May, 1635, acknowledging the receipt of a copy 
of the last edition of the Doctor's work, and his letter of the 
27th of April, in which Sir Kenelm says " he over-values the 
mean present he had presumed to send to the University of 
Oxford." He then criticises Hakewill's book, which appears 
to have related to natural philosophy. 


tion, is still extant. That admirable letter is 
dated Lambeth, 27th March, 1636, and the 
author of the article " Digby"in the " Bio- 
graphia Britannica/' has copiously cited it. 
It is there said that he had addressed to that 
Prelate a long apology for his conduct ; and 
of his abilities for polemical discussion, am- 
ple proof exists in his " Conference with a 
Lady about Choice of Religion/' and in his 
Letters to Lord George Digby, eldest son of 
the Earl of Bristol, on a similar subject, both 
of which were written in 1638, when the for- 
mer was published, but the latter were not 
printed until 1651. If however the reliance 
which has been placed on the following 
Memoir be correct, it would appear that he 
had embraced the Roman Catholic faith as 
early as 1623 or 1624, even if he was ever 
in fact of any other religion, for he not only 
speaks of it in terms of approbation, and 
insinuates that King James's chief motive 
for wishing the alliance between Prince 
Charles and a Princess of Spain, was "-to 
unite his people with the rest of the ad- 
joining Princes in the firm knot of con- 
sciences, faith ; hoping/' he adds, " thus 


insensibly to bring in the general opinion, 
and to overrun the new ones by the match, 
the King of Egypt [Spain] being the prin- 
cipal maintainer of that side ;"* but in 
another place he says that the Earl of 
Bristol employed him to negotiate with 
the Archbishop of Toledo, in conse- 
quence of his being highly esteemed by 
that prelate, " principally because their 
religion was the same."-f* Still more, when 
pressed to attach himself to state affairs, 
he expresses a wish that the Earl and he 
may not long entertain different religious 
opinions ; and then enters into a detailed 
explanation of his tenets. J 

For some time previous to 1641, Sir 
Kenelm was in France, where he is said to 
have been highly esteemed, and to have 
employed himself in composing elaborate 
treatises in defence of his religion ; but an 
important event occurred to him whilst in 
that country, which has escaped his pre- 
vious biographers. 

P. 115. The whole of Digby's statement relative to 
James the First's religious opinions in that and the preceding 
page, is very curious. 

f P. 172. J P. 177, et seq. 


A very rare tract is extant, entitled " Sir 
Kenelm Digby's Honour maintained by a 
most courageous combat which he fought 
with the Lord Mount le Ros, who by base 
slanderous words reviled our King : also, 
the true relation how he went to the King 
of France who kindly entreated him, and 
sent two hundred men to guard him as far 
as Flanders. And now he is returned from 
Banishment, and to his eternal honour 
lives in England. Printed at London for 
T. B. 1641." To this curious article a 
rude woodcut is prefixed of two men en- 
gaged in combat, and the sword of the 
one is depicted as having pierced the body 
of the other. As the tract is very short, 
and affords information on a transaction 
which is not generally known, a verbatim 
copy of it is here given. 


FORTITUDE is one of the eleven moral virtues, of 
which there be three sorts ; there is fortitude or valour, 
which consists of rashness, which is to run wilfully 
upon danger, having no possibility to be a conqueror. 
Then there is an enforced valour, which is, when a 
man must either kill or be killed. 


Lastly, there is a temperate .valour : those men which 
are endued with this sort of valour, will neither give 
occasion to make abuse, neither will they take abuse, 
but are ready at all points to defend their King* 
Country, and their own persons, which is the only true 
valour ; the other two sorts, though termed so, yet are 
not, but rather seem to proceed from the loins of 
cowardice ; for to be truly valiant, is to be truly ven- 
turous, for, as I said before, that fortitude is a virtue, 
and by virtue comes goodness ; wherefore consequently 
to be valiant, is to be good. 

Then let all admire the goodness of that most ho- 
nourable Knight, Sir Kenelm Digby, which proceeded 
from his valour, as I shall now declare. 

It is scarce unknown to any how that he was exiled 
from his, native soil, England, which made him often- 
times thus to cry out, " Hei mihi, quod Domino non 
licet ire meo, Woe is me, because it is unlawful for 
me to see my Master," his King ; he kept his resi- 
dence nigh to the court of France, where he was not 
less respected for the report of his former valour, than 
for the present affability and courtesy which he shewed 
to all men ; " Omne solum sapienti patria est," to a 
wise man every country is to him as his own native 
country ; but as the quietest of men sometimes have 
occasion for strife, so did it fall out with this worthy 

It was hi,s chance to be invited by a Lord of France 
to dine with him, whither he went accompanied with 
those servants he had. Very merry they all were for a 
certain space; at length they fell to drinking of healths 
to certain Kings, as to the King of France, the King 


of Spain, the King of Portugal, and divers others ; but 
in the conclusion, the Lord which invited Sir Kenelm 
Digby to dinner, presumptuously began a health to 
the arrantest coward in the world, directing the cup 
unto Sir Kenelm, who asked the Lord so soon as he 
had drank, whom that was he did so term ? He bid him 
pledge the health and he should know, which he did ; 
then answered the French Lord, I meant your King of 
England, at which the good Knight seemed very dis- 
contented, knowing in what nature his Sovereign was 
wronged, yet very wisely did he seem to pass it by until 
dinner being ended : then did he desire the same Lord 
the next day to come and dine with him, who pro- 
mised him, upon his honour, that he would. 

The next day Titan being in his greatest pomp, unto 
Sir Kenelm's lodging this Lord came, who had enter- 
tainment befitting his place ; neither did Sir Kenelm 
seem to remember the former day's discontent, but was 
very frolic and merry, and in the midst of dinner-time 
desired them all to be bare, for he would begin a health 
to the bravest King in the world. The French Lord 
asked whom that was ? Sir Kenelm made answer that 
when it had gone about he should know: well, about 
it went, and then Sir Kenelm said that it was the 
health of the bravest King in the world, which is the 
King of England, my royal Master, for although my 
body be banished from him, yet is my heart loyally 
linked. The French Lord at those words seemed to 
laugh, repeated the same words before mentioned. 
Then was Sir Kenelm thoroughly moved in the behalf 
of our Sovereign King Charles, whereupon he whis- 
pered the Lord in the ear, telling him how that twice 


he had reviled the best King in the world, in the 
hearing of me, who am his faithful subject, wherefore 
for satisfaction, I require a single combat of you, 
where either you shall pay your life for your sauciness, 
or I wilr sacrifice mine in the behalf of my King. The 
French Lord being of a resolute spirit, condescended to 
fight, the place was appointed ; dinner being ended, 
they both arose from table, and privately went toge- 
ther. Being in afield, off they plucked their doublets, 
and out they drew their weapons. 

Mars would have bashful been to have seen himself 
by noble Digby there excelled, long work with the 
contemptible French Lord, he would not make, for 
fear lest any should lie in ambush and so he might 
hazard his own life, wherefore in four bouts he run 
his rapier into the French Lord's breast till it came 
out of his throat again, which so scon as he had done, 
away he fled to the Court of France, and made all 
known to the King thereof, who said the proudest Lord 
in France should not dare to revile his brother King. 

A guard was presently chosen to conduct Sir Kenelm 
unto Flanders, which they did, when he took shipping 
for England, where he now is, where in peace and 
quietness may he still remain. 

As for the French Lord he was paid according to his 
desert, and may all be so rewarded which shall dare to 
revile the Lord's anointed, who suffers by other nations, 
for the clemency he hath shewn to his own nation. 
" Sed beati sunt pacifici," but blessed is the peace 
maker ! good King for thy patience in this world there 
are crowns of immortal glory laid in store for thee in 
the world to come ; there shall rfot traitors dare to shew 


their faces, nor shall perplexity proceed from the great 
care of ruling of a kingdom. In the mean while may 
more such noble Digbys increase, to rebuke all cursing 
Achitophels, and reviling Rabshakeys. 

Let God arise, and then shall the enemies of our 
gracious King be sure to be scattered. 

Now I conclude, commanding fame to show, 
Brave Digby's worthy deed, that all may know 
He loved his King, may all so loyal prove, 
And like this Digby to their King shew love. 

With that article, almost all the informa- 
tion which has been discovered respecting 
Sir Kenelm Digby, by his present bio- 
grapher, unfortunately ends ; and as in 
tracing his career to its close, no fact can 
be stated but what has been already pub- 
lished, the narrative will be concluded in 
as brief a manner as possible. The reader 
will find a minute relation of those points 
which are now merely alluded to in the 
" Biographia Britannica:" Wood's Athenae 
Oxoniensis, Bayle, and some other writers 
may also be consulted. 

On the King's preparing to make war 
against the Scots he called on his sub- 
jects for their assistance, and which was 
obeyed with alacrity by the wealthiest of 


the Protestant Clergy and Laity. The 
Queen, anxious that the Catholics should 
not be remiss in following the example, in- 
duced Sir Kenelm Digby and Mr. AValter 
Montague to address a sort of circular 
letter to excite them, which was distributed 
throughout the kingdom and produced a 
considerable sum. Though there can be 
little doubt that this act emanated in pure 
loyalty, it was so displeasing to the House of 
Commons, that Sir Kenelm was in January, 
1640, summoned to their bar and ques- 
tioned on the subject. He answered with 
that simplicity which is the surest indication 
of truth ; and the Queen having interfered 
in his behalf by a message to the House, 
stating the share which she had in the trans- 
action and her motives, the Commons ap- 
peared for the time to be satisfied; but the 
offence was not forgotten, for in the address 
which they shortly afterward presented 
to the King, praying him to remove the 
Roman Catholics from about his person 
and the Court, Digby and Montague were 
particularly named. 

Probably in consequence of tin's address, 


Sir Kenelm was obliged to quit England, 
for we learn from the publication which has 
just been inserted, that he was in exile about 
the end of 1640, but that he had made his 
peace and returned before the close of the 
following year; though whether his recal was 
produced by the spirited manner in which 
he had vindicated the honour of his sove- 
reign, or from some other cause, does not 

Upon the breaking out of the civil war, 
Digby was imprisoned by order of the Par- 
liament, and was confined in Winchester 
House until 1643, when he was released at 
the intercesssion of the Queen-mother of 
France, the lady whom in his Memoir he 
represents to have been enamoured of him 
about twenty years before, but whose ad- 
vances he declined. Whether it was to the 
recollection of the passion there imputed 
to her, or to the high favour in which he 
stood with the Queen of England her 
daughter, or to both these causes, that he 
was indebted for the favour, is uncertain ; 
but the House returned a respectful answer 
to her Majesty, and he was released upon 


the condition that he would promise, on 
the faith of a Christian and the word of a 
gentleman, "neither directly nor indirectly 
to negociate, promote, consent unto, or 
conceal any practice or design prejudicial 
to the honour or safety of the Parliament," 
an agreement which Mr. Lodge has justly 
characterized as being more prudent than 
honest, and that he should instantly quit 
the realm. 

The Lord Mayor of London also ad- 
dressed a letter to the House, dated on the 
27th of March, 1643, respecting Sir Ke- 
nelm's commitment, and requesting that he 
might be released ; but nothing was then 

Before his departure he was strictly 
examined by a committee, as to a suspected 
correspondence between Archbishop Laud 
and the Court of Rome; especially respect- 
ing the offer of a Cardinal's hat to the 
prelate. His answer was consistent not 
only with the truth, but with what it was 
little short of insanity to have doubted ; 
for he assured his examiners that he be- 

* Commons' Journals. 


lieved the Archbishop to be a very sincere 
and learned Protestant. It is wholly im- 
possible that a mind so constituted as that 
of Sir Kenelm Digby, to whose " quick 
bosom quiet" must have been indeed " a 
hell," could have passed the term of his re- 
straint without employment. Two pieces 
at least, the one entitled " Observations on 
Religio Medici," which was printed in 
1643, and the other, his " Observations on 
the 22nd Stanza -in the 9th Canto of the 
second book of Spenser's Fairy Queen, 
and addressed to Sir Edward Stradlinge," 
published in 1644, were written at that time. 
In France, Digby was received with 
respect and affection ; for his talents, dis- 
position, and conversation were peculiarly 
calculated to excite those feelings in that 
country. He passed great part of his time 
at the court of the Queen Dowager, and in 
the most polished society of Paris, but at 
the same time a large portion of it was 
devoted to study, for within a year after 
his arrival, he published his greatest work, 
" A Treatise of the Nature of Bodies, and 
a Treatise declaring the operations and 


nature of man's soul, out of which the im- 
mortality of reasonable souls is evinced." 

In July, 1648, he lost his eldest son, 
Kenelm, in the royal cause at St. Neot's ; 
shortly before which event he returned to 
England, and, after some difficulties, was, 
we are told, allowed to compound for his 
estate ; but he was still too obnoxious to 
the Parliament to be permitted to remain, 
and the Commons passed a resolution that 
he should leave the kingdom, and that if he 
was afterward found within it, without 
leave of the House, he should forfeit both 
his estate and his life. Nor, it will be seen, 
were the suspicions entertained of his de- 
signs, without some foundation. He was 
again kindly received in France by Hen- 
rietta Maria, Queen of England, who had 
appointed him her Chancellor, a situation 
which he held until his death ; and, soon 
afterwards, he was sent by her Majesty into 
Italy on a mission to Pope Innocent the 
Tenth. The favour with which his Holi- 
ness at first treated him was, according to 
Aubrey, soon lost, in consequence of the 
improper haughtiness and freedom which 


he displayed towards the Pontiff. He says, 
" he was mightily admired, but, after some 
time, he grew high and hectored at his Holi- 
ness, and gave him the lie. The Pope said 
he was mad/' Wood adds, that the cause of 
the quarrel was, that Digby " having made 
a collection of money for the afflicted Ca- 
tholics in England, he was found to be no 
faithful steward in that matter/' That there 
were many of Digby's actions which seem 
to justify Innocent's opinion of the state of 
his intellects, has been before hinted ; but 
as it has been judiciously remarked, the 
charge of rudeness was ill suited to the 
general character of his temper and breed- 
ing,* though, if his Holiness expressed the 
opinion of his integrity which Wood im- 
putes to him, there can be no difficulty in 
believing that Digby would indignantly 
resent such an accusation. At other 
courts in Italy he was, however, treated 
with marked consideration, as well from 
his own merits as from respect to the 
Queen his mistress ; and Lloyd asserts, 
that " of one of the Princes, whereof it is 

* Lodge. 


reported, that having no children, he was 
very willing his wife should bring him a 
Prince by Sir Kenelm, whom he imagined 
the just measure of perfection/'* 

Soon after Cromwell had dissolved the 
Long Parliament and assumed the su- 
preme power, Digby returned to England, 
and, to the astonishment of all parties, 
acquired some share of the Protector's 
confidence. This extraordinary connexion 
has, been at length explained ; and there 
are good grounds for believing that he 
had long been engaged in the attempt 
to unite the Roman Catholics and the 
enemies of monarchy, in one common 
cause. Lord Byron, in a letter to the 
Marquess of Ormond, dated at Caen on 
the 1st of March, 16*49 says, " Sir Kenelm 
Digby with some other Romanists, accom- 
panied with one Watson, an Independent, 
who hath brought them papers from Fair- 
fax, is gone for England to join the inte- 
rests of all the English papists with that 
bloody party that murdered the King in 
the opposition and extirpation of mo- 

* Loyal Sufferers, p. 581. 


narchical government; or if that govern- 
ment be thought fit, yet that it shall be by 
election, and not by succession as formerly 
provided ; that a free exercise of the 
Romish religion be granted, and of all 
other religions whatsoever, excepting that 
which was established by law in the church 
of England/' In the February preceding, 
Secretary Nicholas enclosed a letter from 
Dr. Winsted, a Catholic physician at 
Rouen, of which the following is an 

" Tuesday last arrived here Sir Kenelm 
Digby from Paris, with divers young gen- 
tlemen in his company ; only there was a 
wry-necked fellow amongst them, which 
Sir Kenelm recommended to my acquaint- 
ance and care, as being, he said, in a con- 
sumption ; and for that cure had changed 
the air and came into France, but was 
now going into England with an intention 
to return within sixteen or twenty days, 
and then would stay here or go into Lan- 
guedoc for his health. Feeling his hand 
and pulse, I assured him that he was in no 
consumption, nor never had been. After- 



ward I perceived that this was but a pre- 
tence, and that he was an agent for that 
accursed crew, his name Watson, scout- 
master to the rebels. I spoke freely my 
mind of the murder and the judgment that 
was made here by the French ; his answer 
was, that the French abhorred the fact in 
general. I spared no sin to curse the 
enemies of God and my King: I asked 
Sir Kenehn Digby why he would go now 
into England, considering the abomination 
of that country? His answer was, that he 
had not any means to subsist longer, and 
if he went not now, he must starve. I an- 
swered, it was the better choice to die, if he 
remembered the obligations he had to the 
Queen Regent of France, who took him 
from those that would have destroyed him. 
He answered, that the Queen Regent knew 
of his going, and that he had the King of 
France's pass, and would return again sud- 
denly. I next pressed him to stay two or 
three months : he replied, that by that time 
all his business would be settled. I de- 
sired him not to think to have from those 
at London any liberation ; for that, for my 


part, I had rather live in exile all the days 
of my life, and suffer at Tyburn, than that 
my public liberty to serve God should 
spring from the bloody murderers of my 

This design was probably the cause of the 
hostility of the Long Parliament toward 
Sir Kenelm, and to some extent, it explains 
the attention shewn to him by the Pro- 
tector ; whom, it may be inferred, he hoped 
to persuade into his wishes. Certain it is, 
however, that whatever might be the hopes 
he received from Cromwell, Digby pro- 
fessed to be devoted to his service ; a fact 
not only manifested by the manner in 
which the Protector treated him whilst he 
was in England in lf)55, but by a letter 
from Sir Kenelm to Secretary Thurloe, 
dated Paris, 18th of March, 1656, in which, 
after defending himself against the slander 
of a Sir Robert Welsh, he says, " that what- 

soever may be disliked by my Lord Pro- 
tector and the council of state, must be 
detested by me;" that his obligations to 
his Highness were so great, that it would 
be a crime in him to behave himself so 

f 2 


negligently as to give cause for any shadow 
of the least suspicion, or to do any thing 
that might require an excuse or apology ; 
and, after similar professions of attachment, 
he concludes, " my excuse is, that I should 
think my heart was not an honest one, if 
the blood about it were not warmed with 
any the least imputation upon my respects 
and my duty to his Highness, to whom I 
owe so much/' 

Upon Digby's conduct in this affair, it 
is requisite to say a few words. Mr. Lodge 
has execrated it in the strongest terms ; 
and though he has imputed it to the true 
cause, " a fervid affection to his religious 


faith/' it is not altogether just to say, that 
that motive furnishes " no extenuation/' 
The treason, with which he charges him, 
ought rather to be proved than assumed ; 
for it must first be inquired to whom was 
he treacherous? To his mistress the Queen? 
Certainly not ; for in promoting the inte- 
rests of the religion to which she was a 
bigot, there can be no doubt that he ren- 
dered her the most acceptable service ; 
and so far from concurring in Kippis's re- 


mark, that " it is very strange that it did 
not ruin him with the Queen Dowager," 
the circumstance that he never lost her 
good opinion, tends to establish the idea 
that if he was not actually obeying her 
commands in this instance, he was, at least, 
acting under her sanction. The treachery 
then could only be to Charles the Second ; 
but as the religious tenets of that mo- 
narch differed but little from those of his 
mother, the only part of his proposition 
which could be offensive to his Majesty, 
was, that the monarchy should be elective 
rather than hereditary. In 1649, when the 
design is imputed to Digby, it is barely 
possible for him to have had any other 
idea than that the elected monarch should 
be the individual who possessed the here- 
ditary right to the throne ; hence he would 
appear to be availing himself of the only 
possible means which, at that time, pre- 
sented themselves of restoring him : per- 
haps wisely deeming, that when once seated 
it would be an easy task to establish the 
ancient order of the succession. It is true 
that Digby 's subsequent favour with Crom- 


well, is not to be reconciled with such 
views respecting Charles, but it does not 
necessarily follow that all the motives as- 
cribed to him by Lord Byron in 1649, con- 
tinued to actuate him in 1655 

Until the restoration, Sir Kenelm occu- 
pied himself in travelling to various parts of 
the Continent. He passed the summer of 
1656 at Toulouse, and the next year we find 
him at Montpelier, where he went partly 
on account of his health, which was much 
impaired by severe fits of the stone, and 
partly because it contained several men of 
learning, to whom he read his treatise on 
the sympathetic powder and partook of 
all the enjoyments which a communication 
between the scientific and the learned sel- 
dom fails to produce. In 1658 and 1659, 
he was in different provinces of Lower 
Germany and particularly in the Pala- 
tinate, where, according to Sidney, who 
hated him, he passed by the name of 
Count Digby; but in 1660 he was again 
in Paris, and in the next year returned 
to England. All his biographers admit 
that he was well received at Court, not- 


withstanding his conduct towards Crom- 
well was far from being a secret, a fact 
which powerfully supports the opinion 
that his real designs were not so inimical 
to the monarchical interest as has been 

Digby did not long survive the Restora- 
tion, nor did he receive any political fa- 
vours from the King, though he still en- 
joyed his office of Chancellor to his mother. 
On the incorporation of the Royal Society 
in 1663, he was nominated one of the 
Council, and, as long as his health permit- 
ted, was constant in his attendance at its 
meetings, and communicated several pa- 
pers. At this time he resided at his house 
in Covent Garden,* and passed his life in 
the study of philosophy and mathematics, 
or in the conversation of those who like 

* Aubrey says, " the fair houses in Holborn, between 
King's Street and Southampton Street (which broke off the 
continuance of them) were built about 1633 by Sir Kenelm, 
where he lived before the civil wars. Since the restoration 
of Charles II. he lived in the last fair house westward in the 
north portico of Covent Garden where my Lord Denzill, 
Holies, lived since. He had a laboratory there. I think he died 
in this houe. sed Qu." 


himself were ardently devoted to science* 
and " established those literary assemblies 
to which he had been accustomed in 
France, and which he seems first to have 
introduced into this country/'* Early in 
January 1665, he meditated a journey to 
Paris for the relief of his old disease, the 
stone, upon which occasion he made his 
will, but the disorder advanced too ra- 
pidly to allow of his executing his inten- 
tion, and he died in a violent paroxym on 
his birth-day, the llth of June 1665, hav- 
ing just completed his sixty-second year. 

The contemporaries of Sir Kenelm 
Digby as well as posterity have paid un- 
qualified homage to his genius and eru- 
dition: and whether contemplated as a 
philosopher, a theologician, an orator, a 
courtier, or a soldier, his exquisite talents 
are alike conspicuous. Endowed by na- 
ture with an understanding of great depth 
and versatility, he studied almost every 
branch of human science, and to whatever 
he gave his attention, he illustrated and 
adorned it. His philosophical specula- 

* Lodge. 


tions have survived the bickerings by which 
they were assailed ; his solitary essay as 
a military commander was crowned with 
signal success; his eloquence is conspicu- 
ous in every production of his pen ; and 
to the extent of his knowledge of divinity, 
his works on the subject bear ample tes- 
timony. The politeness for which he was 
eminent was not artificial, but arose from 
the only true source, an amiable disposi- 
tion; and in an age distinguished above 
all others for political as well as polemical 
controversy, he has the enviable merit of 
having conveyed his arguments in lan- 
guage wholly free from bigotry and personal 
vituperation. But in the most comprehen- 
sive meaning of the term, Sir Kenelm 
Digby was a Gentleman. He understood 
and exercised all the duties which belong to 
that character ; nor in the exuberance of 
the vanity in which he abounded, in the per- 
secutions which he endured, or in the malice 
by which he was assailed, are we informed 
of one action of his life, with the excep- 
tion of the conduct imputed to him by 
Aubrey towards the Pope, which it is 


highly improbable ever occurred, is one 
trace to be found of his having, even 
for a moment, forgotten what he owed 
to himself or to others. Besides the usual 
learned attainments and those abstruse 
pursuits in which he delighted, he was 
master of six languages, and was well 
skilled in the accomplishments of a cava- 
lier of his times ; but his merits are best 
summed up in the emphatic language of 
one of his contemporaries, "he was the 
magazine of all arts/' His person, like his 
mind, was of gigantic proportions, and 
Aubrey has recorded an anecdote illustra- 
tive of his strength, but a grace, as natural 
as it was inimitable, gave dignity to what- 
ever he said or did, and conduct which 
would have been considered affectation in 
the generality of mankind, " was/' says 
Lord Clarendon, whose words will be 
cited, not on account of their elegance 
merely, but because he was no partial 
delineator, " marvellously graceful in him, 
and seemed natural to his size and mould of 
his person, to the gravity of his motion, 
and the tune of his voice and delivery/' 


From so splendid a character we turn 
with regret to the darker shades by which 
it was accompanied. Digby's faults 
were part and parcel of the mind he 
possessed. The usual attendants of genius, 
eccentricity, almost approaching to mad- 
ness, vanity, and unsteadiness were fre- 
quently displayed in his opinions and con- 
duct ; but of the treachery and dishonour 
of which he has been accused, an attempt 
has been made to exonerate him, be- 
cause they seem wholly incompatible with 
the uniform tenor of his life. Religious 
zeal is, it is true, a powerful excitement, 
and if he was really seduced by it into 
a neglect of his temporal obligations, there 
can be little doubt that the same aberra- 
tion of judgment which he evinces in the 
following pages on the subject of female 
chastity, misled him upon the occasions in 
question. There is a wide distinction be- 
tween the errors into which mankind are 
led by calculations of self-interest, and 
those into which they fall from the dic- 
tates of their honest but mistaken judg- 
ments; and if Digby failed in his allegiance 


to his sovereign, it is only the benefit of 
this distinction which is claimed for him. 
His notions of honour were undoubtedly 
sometimes false, but still they were his 
sincere sentiments, and he accordingly 
supported them by extraordinary and 
even romantic means. Of the vices of 
his age, the most serious which he shared 
was that of duelling, for according to his 
own statements he was engaged in several 
before he attained his twenty-third year, 
and in 1640 he fought another with Lord 
Mont le Ros. But before closing this im- 
perfect summary of his character, there is 
one trait which perhaps proves him to 
have been endowed with a mind far be- 
yond the period in which he lived, his ar- 
dent zeal not only for the acquisition, but 
for the diffusion of knowledge. He printed 
almost all which he wrote, and as we have 
seen, in his present to the University of 
Oxford, his only anxiety was that every 
facility should be given for the publication 
of the Manuscripts. 

Allusion is made in the " Biographia 
Britannica," to a " noble MS. which Sir 


Kenelm caused to be collected at the ex- 
pense of a thousand pounds, as well out of 
private memorials as from public histories 
and records in the Tower and elsewhere, 
relating to the Digby family in all its 
branches, but not knowing where it is to 
be found/' <Scc. For the benefit of future 
biographers of the family it will be ob- 
served, that in 1766, Sir Joseph Ayloffe 
exhibited that volume to the Society of 
Antiquaries,* and that in 1794, it was in 
the possession of W. Williams of Pendedw 
in Wales, son of Richard Williams, Esq. 
whose first wife, but by whom he had no 
issue that survived, was a descendant of 
Sir Kenelm.-f- 

Many of his inedited letters are extant, 
though but few of them are in the British 
Museum. The MS. of his letter to Sir 
Edward Stradlinge relative to the "Fairy 
Queen," is however in that repository,which 
also contains two other fragments on the 
same subject, his addresses to the Earl of 

* Gentleman's Magazine, vol. 64. part 2. p. 791, where it 
is fully described. See also, p. 918. 

t Ibid. vol. 65. part 2. pp. 743. 840. 1077. 


Pembroke on Religion, some prayers, and 
other articles well worthy of the perusal 
of those who may wish to be acquainted 
with all his productions. The little vo- 
lume in which they are preserved, the Har- 
leian MS. No. 4153, is handsomely bound, 
and the minute observer of human motives 
will discover in the ornaments strong evi- 
dence of his affection for his wife; for 
though many of the pieces were written 
long after her decease, her arms are not 
only impaled with his own on the cover, but 
the book is stamped on the back with a junc- 
tion of the letters K. V. and D. a trifling, 
but far more impressive proof of his regard 
for her memory than a volume of professions. 
Sir Kenehn Digby made his Will on the 
9th of January, l6Car. II. 1665, in which 
he styles himself " Sir Kenelm Digby, of 
Stoake Dry in the County of Rutland, 
Knight, Chancellor to Henrietta Maria 
Queen Dowager of England," and mentions 
his intention of going to Paris for the cure 
of a malady. If he died in England he 
ordered his body to be buried in Christ 
Church, London, in his vault of black 


marble and copper, where his wife Dame 
Venetia was interred, and desired that no 
inscription should be placed on the tomb. 
He gave all his lands in the county of 
Hereford, " which he had lately purchased 
of the Duke of Buckingham/' in Hunt- 
ingdonshire, and all others in England, 
France, or Frankfort on the Maine in 
Germany, to Charles Cornwallis of High 
Holborn in Middlesex, Esq. to be sold 
for the payment of his debts, and ap- 
pointed his friends Sir Richard Lloyd of 
Denbigh, Knight, and John Austin of 
London, Gent. Overseers, and the said 
Charles Cornwallis, Esq. Executor of his 
Will. By a codicil dated on the 22nd 
May, 1665, he bequeathed to his friend 
and kinsman George Earl of Bristol, a 
burning glass; to his uncle Mr. George 
Digby of Sandon in Staffordshire, a horse 
or mare; and to his sister a mourning gown. 
His library being in France, became on 
his death the property of the French Mo- 
narch, under the droitd'aubaine. It was sold 
by the person to whom His Majesty gave it 
for 10,000 crowns, and was purchased by the 


Earl of Bristol. The following lines were 
written on Sir Kenelm Digby, by R.Ferrar, 
and which at least possess the merit of 
being free from unmerited adulation. 

Under this tomb the matchless Digby lies, 
Digby the great, the valiant, and the wise ; 
This age's wonder for his noble parts, 
Skill'd in six tongues, and learned in all the arts. 
Born on the day he died, the eleventh of June, 
And that day bravely fought at Scanderoon. 
It's rare that one and the same day should be 
His day of birth, of death, of victory ! 

The descendants of Sir Kenelm Digby 
are easily traced. By Venetia Stanley he 
had three sons and one daughter, Margery, 
who married Edward Dudley of Clopton 
in Northamptonshire, Esq. The sons were : 

I. Kenelm Digby, born 6th October, 
1625, killed at St. Neots, on the ?th of 
July, 1648. He died unmarried. 

II. John. 

III. Everard, born 12 January, 1629, 
died an infant. 

IV. George, born 17 January, 1632, 
[query 1632-3J but who appears to have 
died young. 


John Digby, the second son, was born 
on the 29th December, 1627, and was 
twice married ; first to Katherine daugh- 
ter of Henry Earl of Arundel, who died 
childless ; and secondly, to Margaret 
daughter of Sir Ed ward Longueville of Wol- 
verton in Buckinghamshire, Bart, by whom 
he had two daughters, his coheiresses ; 
namely, Margaret Maria, who became the 
wife of Sir John Con way of Bodrythen in 
Flintshire, and Charlotte Theophilia, who 
married Richard Mostyn of Penbeddw in 
the same county, Esq. by whom she had 
seveal children, but her issue is extinct. 

Lady Conway, besides a daughter Mar- 
garet who was the wife of Sir Thomas 
Longueville, Bart., had a son Henry Con- 
way, who died in his father's lifetime, leav- 
ing a sole daughter and heiress Honora, 
who married Sir John Glynne, Bart, by 
whom she had a large family. Their de- 
scendants are, however, fully treated of in 
Debrett's Baronetage; hence it is only 
necessary to observe that Sir Stephen 
Glynne, Bart, the great grandson of Sir 



John Glynne and Honora Conway, is the 
present representative of Sir Kenelm 
Digby, and through Lady Venetia, of one 
branch of the illustrious houses of Stanley 
and Percy. 



The names thus marked * are copied from the account of the MS. in 
the Catalogue of the Harleian Manuscripts. 


Arete Lady Digby, Sir Kenelm's 

mother; she was the daugh- 
ter and heiress of William 
Mulsho, Esq. 

Artesia, widow of Auridonio Uncertain. 

*Aristobulus John Digby.lst Earl of Bristol. 

Prince of Achaia ...... .% . . King of Bohemia. 

*Earl of Arcadia Henry Rich, Earl of Holland. 

Babilinda Uncertain. 

*Clericus Mr. Clerk. 

Mufti of Egypt Query the Archbishop of 


Faustina Uncertain, but Lady Venetia's 

governess or waiting-wo- 

Famelicus Uncertain. 

*Hephaestion George Villiers,Duke of Buck- 

Hydaspes Uncertain. 

Leodivius Apparently the son of the 

Countess of Bristol by her 
first husband, Sir John 
Dive of Bromham, Co. Bed- 
ford ; but the pedigrees of 
the Dive family are silent as 
to the issue of that marriage. 

Mauricana Uncertain, but the first lady of 

the bed-chamber to the 
Queen of Spain. 

Mardontius Uncertain. 

*King of Morea James the First. 

Nearchus Sir Edw. Stanley, K. B., Lady 

Venetia's father; his wife 
was Lucy, daughter and 
coheiress of Thomas Percy, 
seventh Earl of Northum- 


Nugeutius Uncertain. 

Oxicrane Uncertain, a relation of the 

Duke of Buckingham. 

Rogesilius Robert Digby, afterward cre- 
ated Lord Digby, and an- 
cestor of the present Earl 

Scanderbret Uncertain, a relation of the 

Duke of Buckingham. 

*Stelliana Lady Venetia Stanley, wife of 

Sir Kenelm Digby. 

*Theagenes Sir Kenelm Digby. 

Ursatius Uncertain. 

The individual spoken of in page 84, as the paramour of life 
Queen of France, was the Marquess D'Ancre. 


*Achaia Germany (Bohemia). 

*Alexandria Madrid. 

*Alexandretta Scanderoon. 

Archiaepelago Uncertain. 

*Attica France. 

*Athens Paris, but afterward used also 

for French, or France. - 

Candle Uncertain. 

*Corinth London. 

*Cyprus Venice. 

*Egypt Spain. 

*Ephesus Florence. 

Greece Europe. 

*Ionia Italy. 

Ionian Islands Uncertain. 

Lepanto Uncertain. 

Marathon Angers. 

Milo Uncertain. 

*Morea England. 

Peloponnesus Query Great Britain. 

*Rhodes Uncertain, perhaps Sally, or 

*Syria Portugal. 

The town mentioned in page 85, is Blois. 


NATURE, without other tutor, teacheth us 
how all agents work for some precise end, 
and to obtain that, do contribute all their 
endeavours, and make use of all the means 
that are within the reach of their power. 
But, herein, natural agents that are guided 
by an original necessity, have one great 
advantage over those that have liberty of 
election of the ends and means : for they 
are levelled by a certain and never failing 
rule which was given to all things when 
their first being was given them, and from 
the which they cannot depart nor swerve 
without the immediate and express inte- 
ressing of him that was their lawgiver, who 
governs them with infinite justice, wisdom, 



and goodness. But these being composed 
of such differing parts, that one may well 
say they bear about within them a per- 
petual civil war ; the rational part striving 
to preserve her dignity and the superiority 
due to her, as being the nobler substance ; 
and the inferior part, wherein reign the 
mists and clouds of various and inconstant 
passions, aspiring to overshadow and dim 
her brightness, and to range at liberty 
without any curb, they are always in great 
and almost inevitable hazard of miscarry- 
ing, as well in the proposing to themselves 
the worthiest end as in the election of the 
sincere and true means to attain unto it. 
Which hath made me many times retire 
my looser thoughts within their own centre, 
and with serious meditation fix them upon 
this subject, through the desire I have had 
to direct this my journey in a right way, 
which is of so much importance, that the 
least going astray out of the true path 


brings a continual sickness to the mind, 
and the greatest disorder that may be 
among the senses ; the one being then 
always in unquietness and a tedious ex- 
pectation of the future, and never con- 
tented with the present, like. to sick men 
that being in a high fever do often change 
their places and turn from one side to the 
other, though with no ease or amendment ; 
and the others grow mutinous and disobe- 
dient, seeing that she who ought to be 
their mistress and governess, is at war 
within herself, and in as much distemper 
as they can be in ; so that the smallest 
errors whatsoever do turn into jarring dis- 
sonances the music within man, which 
consisting parts, when they keep exact time 
together, frarneth the sweetest and most 
pleasing harmony that may be. 

At such times then as rny soul being 
delivered of other outward distractions, 
hath summoned all her faculties to attend 


this main business, the first consideration 
that hath occurred to me hath been that 
the peace and tranquillity of the mind 
ought principally to be aimed at; the ob- 
taining of which is an infallible token that 
one is in the right way of attaining to 
perfect happiness ; or rather, these two have 
so straight and near a relation, as that the 
one cannot be without the other : for this 
ethereal form, which by the Almighty 
Architect was breathed into us, can no 
more rest when any thing concerning it is 
out of the due harmony and proportion, 
than a sensible body can when any of the 
humours are distempered or unequally dis- 
tributed ; and as a just mixture of these 
causeth an entire and vigorous health of 
the body, which is not so well discerned 
by considering it positively in itself, as by 
comparing the present state of it with those 
that are sick ; so the due temperature of 
the mind causeth the health of it and that 


blessed rest that we all aim at ; which is 
best discovered by conferring it with those 
that are in the way of ruin, having lost the 
load-star that should be their guide in the 
troublesome and tempestuous seas of this 
short and transitory life. 

I have, therefore, gone about to examine 
by myself the course and tenor of other 
men's actions ; but in most of them I 
have found such uncertainty and such 
unstayedness, that I soon perceived there 
was nothing to be gathered from them 
for my direction, more than to avoid 
treading in those paths where they walked. 
But at length I perceived that that In- 
finite Light, which illuminateth all things, 
is never wanting to illustrate such a mind 
as with due humility and diligence maketh 
itself fit to receive it : for it was not 
long before such an example occurred 
to me, as satisfied me that in this life a 
man may enjoy so much happiness, as 


without anxiety or desire of having any 
thing besides what he possesseth, he may, 
with a quiet and peaceable soul, rest with 
full measure of content and bliss, that I 
know not whether it be short of it in any 
thing but the security of continuance. It 
was the perfect friendship and noble love 
of two generous persons, that seemed to be 
born in this age by ordinance of heaven to 
teach the world anew what it hath long for- 
gotten, the mystery of loving with honour 
and constancy, between a man and a 
woman ; both of them in the vigour of 
their youth, and both blessed by nature 
with eminent endowments, as well of the 
mind as of the body. 

There are so many and so different cir- 
cumstances requisite to form a perfect 
example in this kind, that it is no wonder 
though many ages produce not one com- 
plete in all points ; the main defect of 
which is oftentimes on the woman's part, 


through the weakness of that sex, which is 
seldom, and almost but by miracle, capable 
of so divine a thing as an assured constant 
friendship, mingled with the fervent heat 
of love and affection ; being that, for the 
most part, this latter is of the nature of 
violent things, which are but of short 
durance ; and the other ought to march on 
with a majestic, settled, and firm pace, 
without any intermission, coldness, or 

And, besides, because that in exact 
friendship, the wills of the two friends 


ought to be so drowned in one another, 
like two flames which are joined, that 
they become but one, which cannot be 
unless the faculties of the understanding- 
be equal, they guiding the actions of a 
regulated will, it cometh to pass, for the 
most part, that this halteth on the woman's 
side, whose notions are not usually so high 
and elevated as men's; and so it seldom 


happeneth that there is that society be- 
tween them in the highest and deepest 
speculations of the mind, which are con- 
sequently the most pleasing, as is requisite 
in a perfect friendship. Which reasons 
have moved some to place the possibility 
of such friendship only between man and 
man ; but, certainly, if they had considered 
how thus they leave out one half of man, 
and indeed the first motive of affection, 
being that the understanding can judge 
only of what is represented to it by the 
senses, whose objects are corporeal, they 
would not have concluded their proposition 
so definitely but that they would have left 
this exception, to wit, unless a masculine 
and heroic soul can be found informing 
the body of a beautiful and fair woman, 
so to make the blessing of friendship full 
on every side by an entire and general 

If, then, I should be asked where such 


an example might be found, I must con- 
fess that, besides this which I intend to 
speak of, I could urge none; which it 
seemeth the Infinite Wisdom, that dis- 
poseth all things, deferred until this season, 
wherein affections are so depraved that 
they had need of the liveliest pattern 
and most efficacious means to incite them 
to mingle honour with their other joys : 
that so they may entirely possess the height 
of that happiness which this life can afford, 
and which represented! notably the infinite 
blessed state wherein the almighty God 
reigneth, by uniting two persons, two 
souls, two wills, in one; which by breath- 
ing together produce a divine love ; and 
then their bodies may justly strive to per- 
petuate that essence by succession, whose 
durance in themselves is limited : and thus 
they become types of that trinity and unity 
living in eternity, which infused the spirit 
of life into him of whom all men derive 


themselves, and enjoy in security within 
themselves the perfection of blessedness 
and content. 

The sweetness of my contemplations 
have so of a sudden plunged me into an im- 
mense ocean, that I can sail no longer in it 
in the weak bark of human capacity and 
reason ; therefore all that I can do to save 
myself from shipwreck, will be to make 
haste back to the shore ; where, betaking 
myself to an easier task, I will set down 
in the best manner that I can, the begin- 
ning, progress, and consummation of that 
excellent love which only makes me believe 
that our pilgrimage in this world is not in- 
differently laid upon all persons for a curse. 

In the first place, it giveth me occasion 
to acknowledge and admire the high and 
transcendent operations of the celestial 
bodies, which containing, and moving 
about the universe, send their influence 
every way and to all things ; and who, al- 


though they take not away the liberty of 
free agents, yet do so strongly, though at 
the first secretly and insensibly, work 
upon their spiritual part by means of the 
corporeal, that they get the mastery before 
they be perceived ; and then it is too late 
to make any resistance. For from what 
other cause could proceed this strong knot 
of affection, which being tied in tender 
years before any mutual obligations could 
help to confirm it, could not be torn asun- 
der by long absence, the austerity of pa- 
rents, other pretenders, false rumours, and 
other the greatest difficulties and oppo- 
sitions that could come to blast the bud- 
ding blossoms of an infant love that hath 
since brought forth so fair flowers and so 
mature fruit ? Certainly the stars were at 
the least the first movers ; who having or- 
dained that from the affection of these two 
the world might learn how to love, did link 
together sundry remote causes to make 


them all concur in this one effect : and as 
in sciences the first principles are abstruse 
and inscrutable, but they being delivered 
by an unquestionable authority and once 
received, it is easy to extend them and to 
build high and elevated conclusions upon 
them ; even so, when the higher powers had 
by a transcendant manner of operation 
inclined the hearts of Theagenes and 
Stelliana to the liking of one another, 
then straight their understandings, their 
wills, and all the faculties of their souls ap- 
plied themselves with all the vehemence 
that might be to frame a perfect love. 

It is evident that their own election had 
the least part in the beginning of it, for be- 
fore they had the freedom of that or of judg- 
ing this fire was kindled, it grew with them, 
and the first word that they could speak, 
being yet in the nurse's arms was, love: 
which, taking deep root in their tender 
hearts, and meeting with heroical souls, 


produced heroical and worthy effects, the 
relation of which shall be the subject of 
the ensuing discourse, wherein I will set 
down, in the liveliest manner that I can, the 
various fortunes that befell them before 
they arrived to their wished period ; and 
that in a plain style, and without endearing 
any thing to the advancement of either of 
them beyond the reality of truth; knowing 
that in the first, if I should strive to do 
otherwise, my mean abilities would come 
far short of my desire ; and in the second, 
I might seem, unto those that know how 
near friends they are unto me, to have 
looked upon them through the glass of af- 
fection, and to have delivered them with 

To deduce then this narration from the 
very beginning. Stelliana being born of 
parents that in the antiquity and lustre of 
their houses, and in the goods of fortune, 
were inferior to none in all Peloponesus ; 


it pleased Heaven, when she was not many 
months old, to take her mother from her, 
deeming, as I think, the earth, and too 
negligent a husband, not worthy of so di- 
vine a blessing ; who dying left the good- 
ness of her soul and the beauty of her body, 
in both which she surpassed all others of 
her time, to her infant daughter. 

Nearchus then, for that was the name of 
Stelliana's father, being like those that 
through the weakness of their eyes are daz- 
zled with too great a light, and are notable 
to comprehend it until the absence of it 
make them lament their loss; began then to 
be sensible how happy he might formerly 
have been by the unhappy state wherein he 
found himself, being deprived of that jewel 
whose loss would have made the world 
poor, if out of her ashes another Phoenix 
had not risen with greater splendour. And 
then sorrow and discontented thoughts 
beginning to take possession of his mind, 


the nature of which is to please themselves 
in nothing but such objects as may feed 
and increase them, he retired himself to 
a private and recollected life, where with- 
out the troubles that attend upon great 
fortunes he might give free scope to his 
melancholic fantasies: which to enjoy more 
fully in the way that he desired, he judged 
it expedient by removing his daughter from 
him to take away such cumbers as might 
disturb his course, since it was requisite 
for the education due to her high birth to 
have many about her, that would ill agree 
with his affected solitariness. 

Wherefore, as soon as she had attained 
to such strength as that her remove might 
be without danger, he sent her to a 
kinsman of his, whose wife being a grave 
and virtuous lady, had given him as- 
surance that no care or diligence should 
be wanting on her part to cultivate those 
rare natural endowments which did al- 


ready shine through her tender age. Their 
house in the country was near to that 
where Arete the mother of Theagenes 
lived, whose father was then dead, which 
gave occasion of frequent interchang- 
ing visits between her and Stelliana's 
guardians, and the affection of the one to 
her son, which would not suffer her to be 
long without him, and the respect of the 
others to their charge, which made them 
glad to satisfy her, though yet childish 
desires, in any thing they could, as in the 
fondness of going abroad and such like, 
was the cause that they seldom came to- 
gether but that the two children had part 
in the meeting: who the very first time 
that ever they had sight of one another, 
grew so fond of each other's company, that 
all that saw them said assuredly that some- 
thing above their tender capacity breathed 
this sweet affection into their hearts. They 
would mingle serious kisses among their 


innocent sports : and whereas other chil- 
dren of like age did delight in fond plays 
and light toys, these two would spend the 
day in looking upon each other's face, and 
in accompanying these looks with gentle 
sighs, which seemed to portend that much 
sorrow was laid up for their more under- 
standing years ; and if at any time they 
happened to use such recreations as were 
sortable to their age, they demeaned them- 
selves therein so prettily and so affection- 
ately, that one would have said, love was 
grown a child again and took delight to 
play with them. And when the time of 
parting came, they would take their leaves 
with such abundance of tears and sighs as 
made it evident that so deep a sorrow could 
not be borne and nursed in children's 
breasts without a nobler cause than the 
usual fondness in others. 

But I should do wrong unto their riper 
love, to insist too long upon these crude 



beginnings, therefore, with as much haste 
as I can I will run these over, to come unto 
the other that calls upon me to keep my- 
self in breath and to summon together my 
quickest spirits, that I may be able to re- 
present it in as stately and majestic man- 
ner as it deserves. Therefore what I 
have already said shall suffice for their first 
innocent years, whiles fortune seemed to 
conspire with love to unite their hearts: 
but they were scarcely arrived to the ma- 
turity of judging why they loved, and not 
to love still only because they loved, when 
she turned about her inconstant wheel in 
such sort that, if their fates had not been 
written above in eternal characters, even 
then their affections had been by a long 
winter of absence nipped and destroyed 
in their budding spring. For what is not 
that able to do in so young hearts, that im- 
mediately after have the overtures and pur- 
suits of new and advantageous loves? Yet 


these kept their first fire alive ; and al- 
though it may seem in the process of this 
story that sometime it burned but faintly, 
yet it was only that those coals wanting 
fuel, wrought upon themselves, and by 
their own violence covered themselves over 
in a bed of ashes, which the first sight 
raked away, and added plentiful matter to 
cause a brighter flame than at any time 

To continue then where I left, Stelliana 
being of such age that with her tender 
hand she could scarcely reach to gather 
the lowest fruit of the loaden boughs; 
her father, that yielded daily more and 
more to his discontents, and fainting under 
the burden of them which age made to 
seem heavier, sent for her back to his 
own house, hoping that by the presence of 
such a daughter, whom fame delivered to 
excel in all things belonging to a lady of 
her quality, and that inherited the perfec- 

c 2 


tions of her deceased mother, whose loss 
he lamented still as tenderly as at the first 
day of her death, he might pass the rest 
of his drooping days with some more con- 
tent, and to have in her a lively image of 
his virtuous wife, that being deeply en- 
graved in his heart, did with the continual 
exercise of his solitary thoughts upon that 
one subject, almost wear it out and corrode 
it through. 

He then perceived that his expecta- 
tions and desires were not frustrated ; for 
Stelliana's sweet and gentle disposition, 
that was like a rich soil to sow the best 
grain in, striving to exceed in capacity 
the good precepts that were delivered 
her by those tutors which her guardian's 
loving care with singular choice had placed 
about her, had made her to exceed all 
others of her age so far, as caused men 
to doubt that the heavens meaned not to 
lend her long unto the earth, since she had 


already arrived to that maturity and per- 
fection that most come short of when they 
have past a long and tedious life : so that 
she was ready to change this wearisome 
pilgrimage for a happier crown before she 
knew almost what it was to live. 

He had not long enjoyed the fruits of 
this blessed harvest, when the marriage of 
the King of Morea's daughter with one of 
the greatest princes of Achaya, invited all 
men of eminency to the court, to contri- 
bute their particular joys to the great and 
public solemnities. Wherefore Nearchus 
being desirous to give his daughter the 
content of seeing the magnificent enter- 
tainments that are usual at such times, and 
also being glad to let the world now see 
that fame was nothing too lavish in setting 
out her perfections, took this occasion to 
bring her to Corinth the metropolitan city, 
where her beauty and discretion did soon 
draw the eyes and thoughts of all men to 


admiration : so that in this the example of 
her was singular, that whereas the beauty 
of other fair ladies used to grace and adorn 
public feasts and assemblies, hers did so 
far exceed all others as well in action as in 
excellence, that it drew to her not only the 
affections, but also the thoughts of all per- 
sons, so that all things else that were pro- 
vided with greatest splendour and curiosity, 
passed by unregarded and neglected. 

But here one may see how undeservedly 
that is styled happiness, which subsisteth 
only in the opinion of others; and how little 
they are sensible of outward applause, that 
have their heart fixed upon other objects ; 
for in the midst of these joys where Stel- 
liana was the jewel that crowned them all, 
she could taste nothing that savoured of 
content ; but as if happiness had been con- 
fined to where Theagenes was, in his ab- 
sence . she did languish and think those 
hours tedious that obliged her by civil re- 


spect whiles she was in company to sus- 
pend and interrupt her thoughts, whose true 
centre he was and about which they only 
desired to move. So that one day Ursatius, 
a principal nobleman of the court, whose 
heart was set on fire with the radiant 
beams that sparkled from her eyes, took 
the confidence to speak unto her as he sat 
next to her at a masque, in this manner : 
" Fair lady/' quoth he, " I shall begin to 
endear myself to your knowledge by taxing 
you with that which I am confident you 
cannot excuse yourself of; for if by the 
exterior lineaments of the face, and by the 
habitude of the body, we may conjecture 
the frame and temper of the mind, cer- 
tainly yours must be endowed with such 
perfections, that it is the>greatest injustice 
and ingratitude that may be, for you to 
imprison your thoughts in silence, and to 
deny the happiness of your conversation 
to those whose very souls depend upon 


every motion that you make : and so you 
rob Him of the honour due to Him who is 
the Author of all good ; and who in retri- 
bution expecteth that they unto whom he 
hath been most liberal of his favours, 
should by due communication of them 
most glorify him." 

Stelliana, who was surprised by this un- 
expected discourse of one that she knew 
no otherwise but by name, and being dis- 
turbed from her pleasing thoughts, was 
some time before she could recollect her- 
self: but after she had sate awhile as one 
amazed, civility called upon her to return 
some answer to him, that she knew was the 
person of most respect and note about the 
king ; wherefore at length with a modest 
blush she thus replied to him : " Sir, if 
nature had bestowed any exterior recom- 
mendations upon me, as I cannot flatter 
myself that she has, it would be most 
discretion in me to rely upon the favour 


that I might gain thereby ; since I am so 
conscious of my other weaknesses, that 
whensoever I should go about but to ex- 
cuse them, I should belie any good opinion 
that others might have entertained of me : 
but in that you are pleased to express 
more respect to me than any ways I can 
deserve, I hold myself obliged to reduce 
you out of error, though to my own disad- 
vantage, by speaking to you ; whereby 
through my rudeness I am sure you will 
gather more arguments to make you 
ashamed of what you say you have con- 
ceived of me, than to confirm you in it." 
" I shall never contradict you," replied he 
then, " in any thing but in this ; since I 
should acknowledge too great a dulness 
and stupidity in myself, if I were not in 
some measure capable of discerning those 
rare perfections that shine in you, and 
seeing them, if I did not love and admire 
them; therefore I make an humble suit 


unto you, not that you will be pleased to 
bestow any favour upon me, for I cannot 
be so presumptuous as to beg any until I 
have by some means shewn at least an af- 
fectionate desire to deserve them, but that 
you will give me leave to love and adore 
you, and not be displeased that one of so 
small merit as I am, should be so ambitious 
as to style himself your humble servant." 
He had scarcely made an end of saying 
thus much, when one of the Maskers, they 
having now ended their set dance, came 
to take Stelliana by the hand, beseeching 
her to follow him in a corrente ; which de- 
livered her of the trouble of returning any 
answer to Ursatius, otherwise than with a 
disdainful look ; for going along with him 
that had taken her out, the other's greedy 
ears that expected the sweet sound of her 
charming voice, were forced of a sudden to 
resign all their spirits into his eyes, to con- 
template her motions, that were so com- 


posed of awful majesty and graceful agility, 
that all the beholders being ravished with 
delight, said, surely one of the Graces was 
descended from heaven to honour these 
nuptials. Which was the cause that when 
they had seen how skilfully she kept time 
with her feet to the music's sound, she 
was suffered no more to return unto her 
former seat : for it adding much to the 
grace of good dancers to have their lady 
observe due distances, and to move them- 
selves, as it were, by consent in just pro- 
portion, every one in their turn beseeched 
the like favour of her that she had done to 
their companion, before he could lead her 
back unto her first place : yet in this they 
deceived themselves; for her excellency 
that would brook no partner, engrossed to 
herself all the commendations, while they 
had scarce any notice taken of them. But 
she was wearied with her much exercise, 
before the beholders could be satisfied with 


delight ; which made time glide away so 
swiftly and unperceivably, that they heard 
from abroad the watchful cock warn men 
to rise up to their daily labours, before 
they could persuade themselves it was time 
to go to rest. But then the king adjourn- 
ing the assembly and the continuance of 
these recreations to the next night, every 
one retired ; and Stelliana being returned 
to her lodging, as she was making her un- 
ready, related to the gentlewoman that 
waited upon her in nature of governess, 
what had passed at court, and what lan- 
guage Ursatius had held to her. 

Faustina, for that was the ancient gen- 
tlewoman's name, who only did sit up that 
night to help her lady to bed, was glad of 
this o.ccasion to begin to perform that office 
for Ursatius, that she had promised him ; 
who from the first sight growing every 
day more and more taken with Stelliana's 
beauty, and deeming the honourable way of 


procuring love by deserts to be too long and 
tedious, had, with great gifts and greater 
promises, won Faustina to assure him of 
her assistance in his pursuit ; wherein he 
had been so unhappy, that until this night 
he could never get a fit opportunity to ex- 
press himself a lover to whom he most de- 
sired should know it. So that she then 
interrupting her lady, said thus; " In troth, 
madam, I wonder that you gave so cold an 
entertainment to the respects of so noble 
and deserving a gentleman as Ursatius, 
who hath the fame of all those that are 
about the court, to be the discreetest, the 
most courteous, and the most generous 
among all the noblemen in this kingdom ; 
and that excelleth them as much in com- 
pleteness of good parts and the graces of 
nature, as he doth in the gifts of fortune, 
and greatness of estate." "Dostthou then, 
Faustina," answered her lady, " think that 
any of these considerations can make me 


false to that affection, that in respect of 
me had no beginning, for my memory 
reacheth not to that time, and which I am 
resolved shall die with me?" " In all things 
else/' replied Faustina, " I have found you 
so discreet, that you may be called the 
mirror and shame of all the ladies of your 
age. But in this, madam, pardon me if I 
speak too boldly, methinks you have no 
reason at all : for what unthrift would cast 
away love upon one that is not sensible of it, 
and regardeth it not ?" " Why do you say 
so?" answered Stelliana. "If you could see 
as far," quoth Faustina, "into what concern- 
eth you most, as they that are but lookers 
on, you should not need to ask this question, 
and you would not sigh all day for Thea- 
genes as you do ; for if you had no other 
cause, methinks the passing of four entire 
years without so much as hearing from him 
should make you forget him as much as he 
doth your love/* "Alas!" replied Stel- 


liana, " be not so unjust as to tax him with 
what thou knowest he cannot remedy : it 
is true, four years have passed, ah ! my 
sorrow keeps too good account, since I 
have seen him, or have heard from him : 
but call not that his fault, which is caused 
only by the rigour of our cruel parents; 
you know it is so long since the time of 
their unhappy falling out, who ever since 
have had so watchful eyes over us, dis- 
trusting our affections, that it hath been 
impossible for so young lovers, that are not 
yet acquainted with love's grossest sleights, 
to find out any means to communicate 
their passions ; and, therefore, I see it is 
ordained by heaven that I must harbour 
no other flame within my breast, since this 
long absence and so many other oppositions 
have not been able to smother this." 

" Nay, but," said Faustina, interrupting 
her, " let not passion blind you altogether ; 
but consider what an advantageous change 


you may make in embracing Ursatius, 
who in splendour of nobility, abundance 
of riches, and favour with his prince, is 
eminent above all others; for Theagenes, 
who hath hardly escaped, by his mother's 
extreme industry, with the scant relics of a 
shipwrecked estate, and from his father 
hath inherited nothing but a foul stain in 
his blood for attempting to make a fatal 
revolution in this state." 

" Methinks, Faustina/' replied Stelliana, 
" you speak in his prejudice with more 
passion than you can accuse me of in 
loving him ; for I have good reason for 
this, but you have none to upbraid him 
with another man's offence; for although 
it be the custom of these times to lay a 
punishment beyond death upon those that 
conspire against their prince or their go- 
vernment, that so by making it extend to 
their posterity, it may, peradventure, deter 
some, who would not be contained by 


their own single danger, from attempting 
upon their sacred persons, and from making 
innovations in the laws; yet it seemeth to 
be with this condition, that if the son in 
himself deserve the contrary, he shall be 
esteemed and cherished according to his 
own merit, in which the father's offence is 
then drowned ; so that it rather becomes 
an incitation to him to do virtuous and 
worthy actions, than any stain or blemish. 
Besides this, to speak a little in his father's 
behalf, all men know that it was no ma- 
licious intent or ambitious desires that 
brought him into that conspiracy ; but his 
too inviolable faith to his friend, that had 
trusted him with so dangerous a secret, 
and his zeal to his country's ancient li- 
berty ; which, being misled by those upon 
whose advice he relied, was the cause of 
overthrowing the most generous, discreet, 
worthy, and hopeful gentleman that ever 
this country brought forth : to which may 



be added, that the successful or ruinous 
events of undertakings of that nature, do 
for the most part guide the judgments that 
vulgar men make of the honesty of their 
intentions. And for his estate, although 
it were much less than it is, yet it would 
be plentiful enough for one that loveth 
him for his better part, which is his mind ; 
besides that I am so much beholden to 
fortune, that I am myself mistress of so 
much as may satisfy a heart that can con- 
tent itself with conveniency, more than 
which is excess and superfluity ; which is 
too abject and mean a thing to enter into 
the lowest thoughts of one that is ac- 
quainted with the divine light of a noble 
and heroical love, as mine is. Therefore I 
am resolved, I will no longer be a patient 
martyr ; but will speedily use some means 
that he may hear from me, and I have 
news of him." 

Faustina perceiving her lady to grow 


more passionate by contradiction, and 
the guiltiness of her conscience making 
her doubt that Stelliana saw too far 
into her heart, thought it most expe- 
dient for the present to give way to her 
lady's vehemence; which she did, pro- 
mising her best and faithful service to 
procure her content, now that she per- 
ceived clearly which way it was resolutely 
bent. Which when she had said, and 
Stelliana being laid down in her bed, and 
the curtains drawn, wishing her good rest 
and joyful dreams, with a low curtsey she 
took her leave and went into her own 
chamber ; into which, sleep had but an ill 
welcome that night ; for her troubled and 
divided thoughts kept her awake, until 
after many doubts and consultations with 
herself, at length she resolved upon a tra- 
gedy, which, \\ith the first conveniency, 
she intended to put in action. For co- 
vetousness, that usually accompanieth aged 

D 2 


women, who, from low and mean begin- 
nings, come to have too weighty charges 
committed to them, and whose minds, for 
the most part, are then mercenary, as in 
their youth their bodies were, had so in- 
veigled Faustina with Ursatius's large 
promises, that after long debate within 
herself, at length she swallowed that golden 
bait; and shutting her eyes to her own 
infamy, and the betraying of her lady, she 
resolved now not only to solicit her to her 
dishonour by persuasions, as at first she 
had proposed to herself, but, conceiving 
that would be but time lost, her affection 
being already so firmly grounded, she lay 
contriving what artifice she might use to 
deliver her up into her unworthy lover's 
power. So that the next day, when her 
lady's being in company gave her the li- 
berty of going abroad, she went privately 
to Ursatius's house ; unto whom she had 
early in the morning sent a messenger to 


desire him to stay at home, for that she 
had business of importance to speak to him 
of. He stayed, expecting her coming 
with much impatience and many unquiet 
thoughts ; yet his hopes outweighed his 
fears, because he conceived she would not 
make such haste to bring him ill news, 
and that she came herself to gain the 
reward of a joyful message; in which he 
was the more confirmed by calling to mind 
what passed between Stelliana and him 
the last night, when he took it as an argu- 
ment of much favour from her, that she 
returned him no harsh answer, nor rude 
check, for his bold insinuation : so apt men 
are to flatter themselves with any shadows 
or imaginations that may nourish in them 
the hopes of what they vehemently desire. 
But when Faustina was come and began 
to speak to him, another passion banished 
away the former ; so that before she had 
half ended what she had to say, he burst 


out in this manner : " Ah ! then I see Heaven 
envieth I should be happy ; in nothing 
else it had power to disturb my joys ; 
which now I perceive how low and 
wretched they are, that one denial of a 
scornful beauty is enough to make me mi- 
serable ; I am resolved to take myself out 
of fortune's power, and will go to the other 
world to preach to damned souls that their 
pains are but imaginary ones in respect of 
theirs thatlivein the hellof love." "Why," 
interrupted Faustina, " do you fall into 
such despair ? I come to teach you how 
you may be master of what you say you 
love so much, if you would hear me/' 
"Oh, Faustina !" replied Ursatius, " pardon 
my sorrows that make all things intolerable 
to me that do but cross my hopes of en- 
joying the fairest Stelliana ; I say I love 
her ; I will proclaim I love her ; and that 
so much, that without her my life will be 
but a curse and a vexation ; therefore make 


haste and deliver, in short, the sentence of 
my life or death." " Then hear," quoth 
Faustina, " it is true I have gained nothing 
out of her mouth that I may build much 
hope upon of her consent to your suit." 
" But," interrupted Ursatius, " without her 
consent how can I ever be happy?" "You 
will not hear me speak," continued Faus- 
tina ; " who knows that her heart and her 
tongue beat the same measure? The art of 
dissimulation is born with women, who, 
being by nature ordained to serve men, 
grow to be tyrants when they see them 
humble : therefore remember your own 
strength, and, by faint wooing, do not bar 
yourself of what you may be master of." 
" And how should I be master of her," re- 
plied Ursatius, " that would think it hap- 
piness enough to do her any acceptable 
service ?" " Nay/' quoth Faustina, " as 
long as your ambitions are so low, I hold 
it fittest for me to be silent, rather than to 


acquaint you with what I had contrived 
for your content, which requireth reso- 
lution and active spirits for the achieving 
it." " You would do my love wrong/' 
answered Ursatius, "if you should think 
fear could detain me from any hazardous 
enterprise, wherein assurance of obtaining 
Stelliana were the period of it." " Follow 
then but my directions/' said Faustina, 
" and I will, before many days pass over 
my head, put her into your hands by a 
sleight that I have invented/' " But if it 
be a plot of yours without consent on her 
part/' replied Ursatius, " well may you 
make me master of her body, but her 
mind will then be farther frrfm me than 
before ; for now the worst is that she does 
not love me, and then she will have just 
reason to hate me as much as I can love 

These, and many other speeches to like 
effect, Faustina used to Ursatius, to wean 


him from his respective love ; who, al- 
though he were infinitely perplexed in the 
very thought of offending whom he so 
much desired to please, yet, on the other 
side, seeing nothing but despair in his be- 
half, or, at least, such difficulties that his 
impatience would not let him seek to over- 
come them in an honourable manner, he 
resolved at length to embrace the offer that 
Faustina made him to deliver Stellianainto 
his hands without any resistance or noise. 
Which, to effect according as she had con- 
trived, she took one day occasion of speak- 
ing unto her lady, as she sate in her wonted 
manner, the sun of her beauty shining 
through the clouds of sadness ; when, seem- 
ing to bear a part with her in her sorrows, 
towards whom she professed to have a 
natural tenderness, as having been under 
her charge and care from her infancy, she 
promised her faith and secrecy in what- 
soever might conduce to her content. 


Wherewith Stelliana, being much joyed, 
gave her many thanks, and, after long de- 
bate what was fittest to be done, they con- 
cluded that Faustina should inquire after 
Theagenes, and when she had fully in- 
formed herself concerning him, that she 
should send a discreet messenger to him, 
with a letter from Stelliana. 

As soon as this resolution was taken 
between them, Faustina went abroad, and 
returned not till night ; when, coming to 
her lady with a cheerful countenance, the 
messenger of good news, she told her 
how gracious heaven was to her desires ; 
for, having learned how Theagenes was 
come the night before to the city, she had 
sent a messenger to him, who took so fit 
an opportunity of accosting him, that he 
had large and private discourse with him ; 
wherein he had concluded that the same 
servant should come the next day about 
sunset, to be his guide to the park, that is 


three miles out of the city, if Stelliana 
could have conveniency to come then to 
meet him there. " How/' replied Stel- 
liana, " should he put that in doubt? I 
hope he measureth not my flames by his 
own, when he maketh such a question ; for 
no sea between, nor hell itself, should 
.hinder me from running into those wished 
arms/' The excess of her joy suffered her 
not to make much expression of it in words; 
for she was so full, that in striving to break 
out, it locked itself faster in ; and as a weak 
body faints under the strong physic that 
is prescribed to bring it health, even so 
her soul, that of a sudden was surprised 
with so strong a passion, was not able to 
resist ; but, striving to succour itself that 
had most need, it retired all her faculties 
to one centre, and left the fairest body that 
ever was, destitute of due aid ; who, taking 
it unkindly to be so forsaken, expressed 
in her face a deadly heaviness, mingled 


with the heavenly sweetness of a tranced 
angel that is ravished with the contem- 
plation of his Creator's perfections, and 
his own joys : and when she was come to 
herself again, who could have seen her 
thoughts, would have "said that the suf- 
ferance which one undergoeth before they 
attain unto it, exceedethfarthe good which, 
even in wishes and hope, a lover can pro- 
mise to himself. After she had passed this 
night and part of the next day with much 
unquietness, the declining sun, that was 
ready to plunge himself into his lover's 
bosom, summoned her to begin her journey 
to hers : so that, taking Faustina with her, 
she went to the back door of the garden, 
where a coach with four horses stayed, 
waiting for her ; Faustina having advised, 
for less notice sake, not to make use of her 
own, but to hire one: so that, under this 
pretence, the coachman of Ursatius in a 
disguised livery, with his horses, but a hired 


coach, was there to begin the first act of 
the ensuing tragedy. 

She was scarce gone half way to the 
appointed place, when five or six horsemen, 
well mounted, overtook the coach ; who, 
speaking to the coachman, that was in- 
structed what to do, he stayed his horses, 
and, two of them alighting, came into the 
coach to her, and drawing their poignards, 
threatened her with death if she cried out 
or made any noise ; assuring her withal, 
that from them she should receive no vio- 
lence, if she would sit quietly : and there- 
withal drew the curtains, that none might 
see who was in the coach as they passed by. 

In this agony of distracted thoughts, 
that represented to her from what hopes of 
bliss she was fallen into an abyss of sor- 
row; and, fearing the worst that might 
happen to an undefended maid that was 
fallen into rude hands, she travelled till 
near morning; when the coach staying, 


she was taken out, and led into a fair lodge 
that stood in the middle of a pleasant lawn 
environed with rich groves : and there an 
ancient woman entertaining her with com- 
fortable speeches, and the assurance of all 
service intended to her, which she should 
quickly perceive to be true, brought her 
into a richly adorned chamber, advising 
her to repose herself after so tedious and 
troublesome a night as, of necessity, she 
must have passed. 

After she had helped her to bed, it 
was some time before sleep could take 
possession of her fair lids, but, at length, 
it being the nature of extreme grief 
to oppress the spirits, whereas a tole- 
rable one doth but exasperate them, her 
heart yielded to the weight of so heavy a 
burden ; and death himself, grown tender 
in seeing her affliction, sent his brother 
sleep to charm her wearied eyes that else 
would have been turned into a flood of 


tears, and to give some truce to her 
abundant sorrow. Peradventure he might 
at length have come himself to seize upon 
so sweet a mansion, had not Ursatius, im- 
patient of so long delay, towards the even- 
ing, come in unto her, who, stumbling at 
the opening of the door, which he might 
have taken as an infallible presage of his 
ensuing repulse, with the much noise 
wakened her, and frighted away the other's 
drowsy harbinger. She, hearing one come 
into the chamber, rose up half way in her 
bed, and then, by the glimmering of the 
light that stole in between the chinks of 
the drawn curtains, she perceived, as he 
came near her, that it was Ursatius ; who, 
kneeling down by her bed's side, after some 
pause, began in this manner : " Before I 
came into your presence, fairest Stelliana, 
I had proposed to myself many things that 
I would say to you, to excuse my deceiving 
you in getting you hither ; but that di- 


vinity that is about you doth so astonish 
me, that I forget all studied eloquence, 
and am forced to betake myself to the 
naked and simple expression of a faultering 
tongue, that speaketh but the overboilings 
of a passionate heart. What error I have 
committed is caused by love ; he was my 
guide, and hath brought me to that pass 
that, without it be requited by yours, I 
cannot live." " Alas !" replied Stelliana, 
after a deep sigh, "how ill your deeds and 
words sort together ! you mention love, but 
perform the effects of extreme hatred ! you 
sue to me for life, and in a treacherous 
manner have brought mine into your 
power ; but, howsoever, at least I have 
this content remaining, that I shall find 
out sundry ways to death, if you attempt 
any thing upon my honour; the loss of 
which I am resolved never to outlive : and 
then my injured ghost shall be a perpetual 
terror to your guilty soul, which I will so 


pursue, that I will make you fly to hell to 
save you from my more tormenting ven- 

Ursatius was so amazed, that he was 
a long time before he replied any thing 
to her resolute answer ; but, at length, 
like one new coming out of a trance, he 
called his spirits together, and strived what 
he could to lessen the error he had com- 
mitted, laying much of the fault upon 
Faustina's instigations, and telling her how 
she had been the plotter of all ; and that, 
for his part, his intent was never to have 
used violence; but that he gave way to 
this action, seeing how negligent her father 
was of her, that left her so young and in 
the tuition of so false a servant, to live by 
herself in a dissolute age, among such as 
would daily make assaults upon Jier honour; 
and besought her to consider herself mis- 
tress of all that he had, for, in effect, she 
should find it so ; and assured her that all 



the means he would use to obtain his de- 
sires, should be love and service. 

She then, that doubted this was but a 
cunning invention of his, to try, first, if he 
could win her consent by fair means, 
thought it her best course not to overthrow 
his hopes altogether, but SQ to suspend 
them that she might gain time, wherein 
only consisted the possibility of her safety, 
and delay as long^as she could his proceed- 
ing to any ruder attempt. AVherefore she 
answered him, that in the state she was in, 
and considering how he had injured her, she 
could not believe that he intended really 
what he said ; but when, by experience, 
she should find him to love her as worthily 
as he professed, that might be an induce- 
ment to her to think better of him than 
yet she did. While they were in their 
discourse, the woman that Stelliana met 
when she came into the lodge, brought in 
supper; after which, none else being suf- 


fered to come in to attend them, Ursatius 
taking Stelliana by the hand, led her down 
the stairs into a garden that her chamber- 
window looked into, all the several parts of 
which she narrowly observed. At length, 
the sun setting and a gummy dew begin- 
ning to fall, Ursatius asked her if she was 
not tired with walking, which intimation 
of retiring she taking hold of, they returned 
again to her chamber, that, by this time, 
was dressed up, and the bed made to re- 
ceive her; when Ursatius, perceiving that 
she had a desire to betake herself to rest, 
pretending that she laboured yet of her 
late toil, he took his leave and wished her 
a quiet and happy night, commanding the 
old woman to attend diligently upon her ; 
who, having helped her to bed, retired 
herself into an inner chamber. 

When Stelliana was alone, she gave 
liberty to her sighs and tears, to lament 
her cruel fate ; but, soon recollecting her- 

E '2 


self, as conceiving those weak expressions 
unworthy of her generous soul, as long as 
there was any spark of hope left, she began 
to cast with herself by what means she might 
escape out of that tyrant's hands, whose 
lustful fury, she was confident, could not be 
long delayed, when he should perceive that 
his respect won nothing but words from her. 
She had observed how, in one corner of 
the garden, there was an arbour seated 
upon a mount which overlooked the wall ; 
and, by that place she deemed that she 
might, most fitly, take her flight. Where- 
fore, when by her loud snoring, she per- 
ceived that her guardian was fast asleep, 
she rose with as little noise as she could, 
and, tying her sheets together, made one 
end of them fast to a bar in the window, 
and by that let herself down so gently, 
that she came to touch ground without any 
hurt ; and then going straight to the ar- 
bour, she got down the wall by making use 


of her garters, as before she had done of 
her sheets ; and then, finding herself at 
liberty in the park, she directed her course 
one certain way until she came to the pales, 
which, with some difficulty, she climbed 
over ; and then she wandered about large 
fields and horrid woods, without meeting 
with any highway or sign of habitation. 
After she had weaned herself with going 
long in much desolation, towards morning, 
thinking herself now far enough from 
Ursatius's lodge, to be safe from his pur- 
suit, she sate her down to take some rest, 
when a hungry wolf came rushing out of a 
wood that was close by, and, perceiving 
her by the increasing twilight, ran at her 
with open mouth; whom, as soon as she 
saw, fear made her run away ; but to little 
purpose ; for he had soon overtaken her, 
and, having got her down, would have 
made that his prey, that was worthy to 
sway the empire of the world. But, Oh! 


how unsearchable is the Providence of 
heaven ! for Mardontius, a young noble- 
man that lived not far from thence, having 
been abroad all night to harbour a stag in 
that wood, in which exercise he delighted 
much, hearing the shrieks and doleful 
cries that Stelliana made, ran speedily 
thither; when, seeing that tragical specta- 
cle, he made haste to rescue the distressed 
lady ; and, while with one hand he drew 
his cutlass, with the other he put his horn 
to his mouth ; at the sound of which, se- 
veral of his servants came to him, accom- 
panied with strong and swift dogs. So 
that, among them, they quickly made an 
end of the unhappy beast, that yet was 
happy in this, that he died in so high an 

Then they took the lady from the 
ground, that was almost dead with fear, 
and from the wolfs merciless teeth had 
received some wounds in several places 


about her ; the pain of which, and loss of 
blood, and her wearisome journey, made 
her almost faint : so that, resting her upon 
a green bank, she told Mardontius who she 
was, and part of the adventures that had 
befallen her : and he having requited her 
with informing her of his name and quality, 
stood as one amazed, sucking into his veins 
the fire of love, which was kindled at that 
beauty, that yet shined with admirable 
majesty through her bleeding wounds. 
But he had not been so long, when she 
drew his thoughts another way, by asking 
him what palace that was which they saw 
close by them, and could discern the rising 
sun gilding the tops of the highest turrets 
and pinnacles about it? He answered her, 
that an old lady, famous for her virtue and 
zeal in religion, dwelt there, whose name 
was Artesia. " What !" replied Stelliana, 
" Artesia, the widow of Auridonio ? whose 
house is [Here a line and a half is 


obliterated in the MS.~\ " It is 

the same," answered Mardontius, " that 
you mean." "Then/' said Stelliana, "I 
see that, amidst my miseries, Heaven hath 
not abandoned all care of me ; for this is 
the place that, of all others, I should have 
wished to be in ; Artesia being my kins- 
woman, and one that, I am sure, will 
compassionate my late disasters. There- 
fore, sir, I shall not be ashamed, since 
fortune hath made me owe my life unto 
you, to beg the favour of you to conduct 
me thither." Whereunto, TVIardontius an- 
swered, " Fairest lady, I must lament my 
evil fortune that will not permit me to 
attend you thither ; for there is some pri- 
vate cause that makes it very unfit for me 
to come to that house, but my servants 
shall wait upon you, and see you safe 
there; and I hope, in some other place, I 
shall have the happiness to express the 
much respect I bear unto you ; and, in the 


mean time, from this hour forwards, I vow 
myself unto you in the strictest ties of an 
humble and affectionate servant." To 
which Stelliana replied, " I do not wonder, 
Sir, that you use this language to me, when 
I consider it is the custom of generous 
souls to oblige themselves more by con- 
ferring benefits, than by receiving them ; 
but, howsoever, it belongeth to me to ac- 
knowledge upon all occasions that I am 
more your debtor than is in my power to 
requite/' Mardontius, that saw in how evil 
plight she was, deemed it uncivility to 
detain her any longer ; therefore com- 
manding two of his servants to wait upon 
her to Artesia's house ; with the rest he 
stayed there expecting their return. 

I omit to describe the passages between 
Artesia and Stelliana at their first salutes, 
as I do many other particularities that are 
not essential to this discourse ; but time, 
and Artesia's care, and her own good order, 



having made Stelliana well of her wounds, 
of which remained some light scars, one 
evening as they two were walking in the 
garden, she purposely administered occa- 
sion to speak of Arete, knowing that be- 
tween Artesia and her, there was a straight 
friendship, and of long date, to the end 
that she might learn some news of The- 
agenes : who, gladly falling upon that sub- 
ject, it being the nature of most persons to 
let the tongue go willingly where the heart 
draweth it, spoke much in commendation 
of that lady ; extolling with what an ad- 
mirable wit and understanding she was en- 
dued, and how, being left a widow in the 
flower of her youth, accompanied with a 
flourishing beauty and a plentiful estate, 
yet she was so much wedded to her dear 
husband's love, that she neglected all the 
advantageous offers of earnest and great 
suitors, that she might with the more liberty 
perform the part of a careful mother to 


the clear pledges of their virgin affections. 
" For by him," said Artesia, " she had two 
children, who now, by her industry in 
bringing them up in all qualities and vir- 
tuous exercises, correspondent to their 
birth, do give assured hopes that they will 
not degenerate from their father's worth, 
nor give their mother cause to think that 
her great care in their education was ill 
bestowed. Yet they seem to differ much 
in their natures, for the eldest, Theagenes, 
although the great strength and well fram- 
ing of his body, make him apt for any cor- 
poral exercises, yet he pleaseth himself 
most in the entertainments of the mind, 
so that having applied himself to the study 
of philosophy, and other deepest sciences, 
wherein he hath a preceptor in the house 
with him, famous beyond all men now 
living, for solidness and generality of learn- 
ing, he is already grown so eminent, that 
I have heard them say, who have insight 


that way, that if a lazy desire of ease or 
ambition of public employments, or some 
other disturbance, do not interrupt him in 
this course, he is like to attain to great per- 
fection : at least I can discern thus much, 
that he hath such a temper of complexion 
and wit, that his friends have reason to 
pray God that he may take a right way, 
for it cannot keep itself in mediocrity, but 
will infallibly fall to some extreme. But 
the youngest is composed of mildness and 
sweetness of disposition, answerable to the 
excellent form of a comely and active 
body, yet so mingled with courage and 
strength of mind, that one may expect he 
will as much exceed most men in being an 
ornament of the court, and in martial af- 
fairs, as he will come short of any, in spe- 
culative notions : for withal, he is not an 
enemy to study, though he be not naturally 
much addicted to it. Their mother was 
ever dear to me," continued she, " and if 


I can effect what I have affectionately en- 
deavoured and solicited, we shall be able 
to leave to our posterity the inheritance of 
our affections as well as of our estates ; for 
I have laboured long, and Arete hath not 
been wanting on her part, to join in mar- 
riage her eldest son, and my grandchild 
that you see here; who, if partiality deceive 
me not, besides that she shall inherit a 
great estate of her father's, is so much be- 
holding to nature, that she may shew her 
face among the fairest, when you are away 
I mean ;" and with that she smiled. 

But Stelliana was far from answering 
her with the like cheerful countenance, 
for it seemed to her that death had from 
Artesia's lips shot her heart through : 
but impatience of delay to know the 
worst of what she feared called up her 
fainting spirits ; and made her ask, "What 
it was that hindered the effecting it, since 
you two," said she, " that are the guiders 


of it are equally affected with the desire 
thereof/' "It is," answered Artesia, ".the 
backwardness of Theagenes; of which his 
mother one day complaining to me, told me 
what an answer he had made to her a little 
before, as she had solicited him to conde- 
scend to her just desire, it being so much for 
his advantage. * Madam/ quoth he, 'the 
greatest obligation that I have to you, and 
wherein you express your love most to me, 
is the liberty that you have left to me in 
this main business of marriage, upon the 
good or evil success of which, dependeth 
one's future happiness or misery : and 
since you are pleased to enter into discourse 
of it with me, as advising me what will be 
most for my good, I beseech you, give me 
leave to represent unto you how it is a con- 
dition that hath nothing but the entrance 
free; therefore in wisdom it ought to be 
deferred till one be in the fulness and vigour 
of judgment to discern best in making a 


fitting choice ; which cannot well be per- 
formed by attorney. Besides, to have it 
complete in all respects, the first motives 
of it should not be sordid wealth or other 
conveniencies, but a divine affection, 
which may make their souls one as the 
other bond doth their bodies ; and I must 
confess that, although I know this gentle- 
woman do every way deserve better for- 
tune than I can bring her, I feel not yet 
this flame in me towards her, which is in- 
deed only a gift of Heaven. And if I 
should consent to make her my wife, I 
must resolve to sit still from any action, 
as being arrived to the period of my ambi- 
tion : for the relations that follow marriage 
are such a clog to an active mind, that it 
is impossible for one that hath not before 
laid a foundation for his preferment, to 
raise himself above the pitch that he then 
is in ; whereas as long as he remaineth sin- 
gle and free, the world seemeth to be at his 


command in choosing what course is like 
to succeed best to him, and in the process 
of which he is like then to have least diffi- 
culties. Therefore as long as the weakness 
of our estate obligeth you not yet to sell 
me to repair that, I beseech you give me 
leave to look a little while about me, and 
to please myself awhile with flying abroad 
before I be put into the mewe/ So that/' 
continued Artesia, " by this speech of his, 
and knowing his mother's indulgence to 
give way to his desire, I doubt much 
whether what I have so much longed for 
will ever come to pass. Yet, because I 
leave nothing unattempted) Arete and 
myself, when I last saw her, resolved that 
she should bring him hither, to try if my 
grandchild's silent beauty can persuade 
him to what yet he hath ever been averse ; 
for they say that the blind god shooting 
from fair eyes, doth sometimes prevail with 
stubborn hearts more than any reason or 


discourse can : so that taking the offered 
occasion of my son's coming hither, who 
will be here to-morrow, to communicate 
with my nearest friends, my content of 
seeing so dear a son that hath been long 
absent from me, I have invited her to my 
house, who I expect will be here within 
these two or three days, together with 

If the first part of Artesia's speech 
brought doubts and fears to Stelliana's 
soul, the conclusion of it was to her like a 
gentle gale of wind, that in a burning day 
creepeth over sweet and flowery meads, 
and breathes upon the languishing face of 
the faint traveller that is almost dead with 
heat. It was well that she had thus much 
time before-hand to prepare herself to ex- 
pect his coming; for if she had been sur- 
prised with so joyful a sight, it had been 
impossible for her to disguise her affec- 
tions, which mainly imported them both, 


and principally there, to be concealed : 
for Arete, that had long before perceived 
much affection in her son to Stelliana, and 
being now much averse to it, as well be- 
cause of some unkindnesses passed between 
Nearchus and her, as that it might be a 
disturbance to the other that she came 
about, and infinitely desired; did with 
watchful eyes, armed with longing, hatred, 
and jealousy, continually observe all pas- 
sages between her son and Stelliana ; so as 
the two first days that they were together, 
they could have no conveniency of free 
discourse : whilst their fire increasing by 
presence and each other's sight, the keep- 
ing of it in too narrow a room without any 
vent, almost smothered their hearts. But 
what dull wit will not love refine, and sub- 
tilize with acutest inventions ? Much more 
so docile a one as Theagenes's, whose breast 
was now become love's school, out of 
which he might have read a learned lecture 


to novice affections. And he, now burn- 
ing with impatience, and fearing lest, like 
the loadstone, he should always point to 
his bright north star without ever coming 
to touch it, he advised himself of a means 
to instruct Stelliana how they might have, 
once before they parted, the liberty of 
breathing their souls' affections into one 
another; which was thus. 

One day as she had by accident let her 
glove fall, he took it up, and having a letter 
ready in his hand, which he had written a day 
before, and awaited an opportunity of de- 
livering it, did thrust it into the glove, and 
kissing it, gave her, who putting her hand 
into it to pull it on, felt a paper there, which, 
conceiving how it came in, she kept safe till 
night, that she was retired into her cham- 
ber ; and then after she was in bed, and had 
dismissed her servants, she read it by the 
help of the watch-light, which stood burn- 
ing by her : and being thereby instructed 

i 2 


how she should govern herself when the 
occasion was presented to procure a fit 
and secure meeting, sleep stole upon her as 
she was entertaining her pleased thoughts 
with the hope of that blessed hour; which 
happened to be the next day : for Artesia 
and her son, and all the company that was 
at her house, were invited to hunt a stag in 
the forest that was near adjoining ; when 
being in the midst of the chase, and every 
one attentive to the sport, Stelliana, stay- 
ing to be among the hindmost, turned 
her horse down a ridins; that led another 


way than where the hounds had gone, 
which she did in such a manner, as those 
that were near her might conceive she 
would have taken him up, as being weary 
with a long chase, and not desirous to fol- 
low it farther, but that he being hot and 
impatient of the bit, did perforce carry her 
that way when he was diverted from the 
other ; [Here eight lines are 


obliterated.'] till being so far 

got from the rest of the company ,"who in 
such a wild place could not find them out, 
they alighted and led their horses into a 
thicket, where lying down whilst they 
grazed by them, Stelliana, opening her 
coral lips which shewed, like the opening 
of heaven when the Lord of it sendeth 
abroad some blessed angel to do a message 
of joy, began in this manner. "The con- 
fidence that I have of your respect, my 
dearest Theagenes, in thus exposing my 
honour into your hands, is, without any 
other, a sufficient testimony of the love I 
bear you; yet because the remembrance 
of past sorrows is the mother of present 
joy, and that the relation of what I have 


suffered for your sake, for being constant 
to you, may make me in some measure 
seem worthy of the return of your affec- 
tion, I will, as briefly as I can, run over the 
sad story of the widow hours that with 


leaden feet have crept aver me, since I 
had the blessing of seeing you/' " You 
would do too great a wrong, fairest Stel- 
liana," answered Theagenes, " to my clear 
flame, if at least any injustice can proceed 
from so divine a hand, in thinking that 
there were need of any other motive for 
me to love you but yourself: for angels 
and souls love where they discover greatest 
perfections, and I were too blind if I did 
not discern yours. So that in me, where 
knowledge and understanding is the ground 
of a noble and spiritual love, other obliga- 
tions are scarcely considerable ; for that 
knowledge and love have converted me 
into a part of you, and your goodness 
having united you to me, I can no more 
give you thanks for any merit towards me, 
than another man may thank himself for 
doing himself a good turn : so that, in fine, 
no action of yours can avail to gain more 
upon that affection which is already en- 


tirely yours." "I must yield," replied 
Stelliana, "in the manner of expression, to 
you that have the advantages of wit and 
learning to clothe your conceptions in the 
gracefullest attire ; but in reality of love I 
will never yield to you ; for I take Hjeaven 
to witness, I have tasted of np joy in this 
long night of absence, but what the 
thoughts of you have brought me ; and 
have ever resolved no longer to live than I 
have had hope to enjoy your love/' "Oh, 
think not," answered Theagenes, " that 
when the heart speaks upon so serious and 
high a theme, wit o? study can have any 
share in the contexture of what one saith ; 
lovers can speak as effectually in silence, 
as by the help of weak words, which are 
but the overflowings of a passionate heart ; 
for intellectual substances communicate 
themselves by their wills ; and mine is so 
entirely drowned in yours, that it moveth 
not but as you guide it. Yet dare I not 


to contend with you who loveth most ; for 
I know that as you surpass me in all ex- 
cellent faculties of a worthy soul, so you 
do in the perfection of love ; yet in this I 
think I have much the advantage of you, 
that I love you as well as I can, and 
stretch all the powers of my soul to bring 
my love to the highest pitch that I may, 
since it hath a worthier object than it can 
raise itself unto ; whereas, on the other side, 
you not finding in me worth enough to 
take up as much as you could bestow, 
must go with reservation ; and thus I, by 
soaring up to perfections above me, do 
daily refine myself, whilst you are fain to 
let yourself down, unless it be when your 
contemplations, rolling like the heavens 
about their own centre, do make yourself 
their object/' "Fie, fie/' said Stelliana, 
" stop that mouth, which were it any other 
but whose it is, I would call it a sacrilegious 
mouth, that thus blasphemeth against the 


saint that I adore/' And then went on 

i?? 1*0 

with the story of her passed troubles for 
Theagenes; who, when she had ended, re- 
quited her with his; the conclusion of 
which being the earnest and daily solicita- 
tion that his mother used to him to match 
himself with Artesia's grandchild, he told her 
how hitherto he had with delays, never using 
any direct refusal, which might exasperate 
her, prevented her rigorous pressing him to 
it; and that he had also contrived to secure 
himself for the future, in this manner. 

By himself and others, upon whose 
opinions Arete much relied, he had ob- 
tained her leave to travel into foreign 
parts for two or three years, that course 
being usually followed in the education of 
the youth of quality and eminency in 
Morea, that by so conversing with several 
nations, and observing the natures and 
manners of men, they might enable them- 
selves with good precepts, drawn from ex- 


perience, and by variety of observations 
upon sundry and new emergent occasions, 
learn to banish admiration, which for the 
most part accompanieth homebred minds, 
and is the daughter of ignorance : " Of 
which fair pretences," said Theagenes, " I 
will make my benefit to get myself free out 
of these dangers, and then I will stay so 
long abroad until riper years may in me 
challenge the disposal of myself: then 
shall I come home free from those fears that 
now hold my soul in continual anguish; 
and enjoying your favour, shall in one 
short hour recompense all the torments 
that I have already suffered, and till then 
shall suffer, for your sake ; which happi- 
ness, if my constancy be by heaven duly 
rewarded, must outlast an age. But oh/' 
continued he with a deep sigh, "something 
within me whispers to my soul and biddeth 
me take heed how I build the hopes of my 
future joy and bliss upon the continuance 


of a woman's affection during a long ab- 
sence." " It is," replied Stelliana, " some 
wicked fiend sent from the envious enemy 
of mankind, that would kindle the tor- 
menting fire of jealousy within your heart, 
if any such fear as you speak of do breathe 
there; therefore confidently pluck him 
out from thence, for that sun that is now 
declining to the west shall alter his course, 
and rise where soon he will set, and his 
beams, which are now the authors of life 
and vegetation, shall dart cold poison and 
destruction upon the world, before I suffer 
my clear flame to burn dim, or the heat 
that is in my breast to grow faint; but 
who, alas ! can ascertain me that the de- 
lights which you are going unto, and the 
variety of great actions which will daily 
take up your thoughts, and the rare beauty 
of accomplished and ingenious ladies 
which you shall see, may not in time make 
you forget your love, your faith, to a poor 


maid that hath nothing to plead for her, 
but her infinite love to you :" with the last 
of which words, her declining lids did let 
fall some drops of crystal upon her mo- 
dest crimson cheeks, which shewed like 
the morning dew upon a bed of roses that 
seem to weep because the sun maketh no 
more haste to display their beauty ; which 
Theagenes drying with his lips, was some 
time before he could frame this answer. 
" Dearest lady and mistress, from the 
knowledge of yourself you may have en- 
tire certainty of my love and faith ; for 
since the world hath nothing of greater 
perfection than you are, you need not 
doubt that the sight of a fairer object can 
ever dispossess you of your right: besides, 
the consideration of the nature of love 
may quiet those thoughts, for it uniteth 
and transformeth the lover into the object 
beloved ; it is a free gift of the will of the 
lover to the person beloved, making her 


the mistress, and giving her absolute 
power of it ; and the will having command 
and sovereignty over all other faculties 
and parts of a man, it carrieth them along 
with it; so that his will being drowned 
and converting itself into hers, the like 
doth all the rest, and thus they become 
one, by the transmutation of the lover into 
the person beloved ; which action not be- 
ing through natural constraint, nor violent 
and painful, but free and voluntary, and 
delightful, it is neither subject to the vicis- 
situdes and changes of natural things, nor 
to' be interrupted or destroyed by any 
other means, but by the same will that 
first freely gave it, which in me being now 
yours as long as you will foster it and keep 
the knot fast on your side, nothing can 
untie it or wear it out : therefore continue 
but what you are in respect of your love 
to me, and neither time, nor distance, nor 
other beauties, nor all the conspiracies of 


hell can make me other than what I am : 
which is, and in that title I most glory 
myself, your devoted slave." 

With these and other pleasing dis- 
courses of like nature, the two happy 
lovers passed that afternoon, till the set- 
ting sun going down in a cloud, seemed, as 
being careful in their behalfs, to be angry 
at their so long stay there ; which, by leav- 
ing the rest of their company all that while, 
might give new grounds of jealousies to 
them that might think absence had worn 
out all the print of their young and imma- 
ture love : as indeed it did ; for although 
they had framed a fair excuse to colour 
their being away as the .... [Four lines 

are here obliterated.'] she was so 

far gone, and Theagenes, in humanity to 
help her, beyond their knowledge in the 
wild forest that they wandered up and 
down as in a labyrinth, till by chance they 
met a keeper that put them in a right 


path ; yet Arete would not be persuaded 
but that it might be some sparks of former 
love were yet alive in her son's breast, 
which by keeping him near the original 
flame might soon cause a fire too great for 
her to put out. Therefore, if before she 
was slow, she now used all the diligence 
she could to hasten her son's intended 
journey to Athens, whither he was first to 
go, to spend some time in study in that 
university; and discovering her jealousy to 
Artesia, who of her own nature was apt 
enough to receive them, was a means that 
she demeaned herself with such coldness 
from thenceforward towards Stelliana, that 
she, conjecturing the cause of it, did 
shortly take a fair occasion of leaving her, 
having first made her a noble present of a 
jewel that would manifoldly countervail 
her expenses in entertaining her ; and 
from thence went to Corinth where she 
might hope best to receive news of her 


Theagenes, and to have means to convey 
hers unto him. 

Their stars were so favourable to them 
,as to permit them to have there one in- 
terview before the departure of Theagenes ; 
when they both renewed the protestations 
of their affections and vows of constancy ; 
and Theagenes presented her with a dia- 
mond ring which he used to wear, entreat- 
ing her, whensoever she did cast her eyes 
upon it, to conceive that it told her in his 
behalf, that his heart would prove as hard 
as that stone in the admittance of any new 
affection ; and that his to her should be 
as void of end as that circular figure was; 
and she desired him to wear for her sake 
a lock of her hair which she gave him ; the 
splendour of which can be expressed by no 
earthly thing, but it seemed as though a 
stream of the sun's beams had been ga- 
thered together and converted into a solid 
substance. With this precious relic about 


his arm, whose least hair was sufficient to 
tie in bonds of love the greatest heart that 
ever was informed with life. Theagenes 
took his journey into Attica, and spent 
some time in Athens, till the heat of the 
year coming on, and the plague raging in 
that populous city, so that all those that 
had any possibility of subsistence in an- 
other place, left it, he retired himself to a 
little city called Marathon, inferior to 
none in all that country for wholesomeness 
of air, beauty of buildings, pleasure of 
situation, abundance of provisions, and 
courtesy of persons of quality that inhabit 
there. He had not been long here, en- 
joying the greatest content that any place 
could afford him where Stelliana was not 
present, but the warlike sound of horrid 
arms, of neighing horses, and of loud 
trumpets, proclaiming civil dissensions, 
were heard there to fright away the sweet 
tranquillity which reigned in this till then 



happy place: the occasion whereof will 
not be displeasing to relate from the first 

The King of Attica being a prince of 
active spirits, and from his cradle trained 
in wars, in which he was so fortunate that 
he had thereby confirmed himself in his 
kingdom, which had first long wrestled 
with him, being weary of a long and dull 
peace, had raised a formidable army, 
which being every way complete in all 
other preparations belonging thereunto, 
and of most terror, because of himself that 
commanded it; so great was his reputa- 
tion. Greece and the neighbour world 
trembled with the expectation where that 
cloud would disburden itself, for he had 
made none acquainted with his intentions : 
when, in the midst of his great thoughts, 
which certainly balanced empires, and at- 
tended by his principal nobility, a poo r 
mean vassal of his, whose name had never 


been charactered in ink but for this fact, 
so inglorious he was, delivered the world 
of many fears, by thrusting a dagger into 
the King's heart, as he was going in glory to 
take a view of his army, and to crown his 
wife queen with wonted ceremony ; in- 
tending to leave her regent in his absence. 
Thus all these vast preparations vanished, 
and served for nothing but to express in 
lively colours the frailty of human designs. 
His son was immediately proclaimed and 
crowned king, but being under age, the 
power and management of affairs remained 
with his mother, who, being a woman of 
great judgment and strong parts, carried 
business with a high hand ; which she 
did the rather, because some of the princes 
of Attica, being of turbulent spirits, seemed 
to disdain her sex and the rule of a 
stranger, she being daughter to the prince 
of Ephesus. And having none there that 
she might repose confidence in, she cast 

G 2 


the beams of her favour upon a gentleman 
of her country ; whom, from a younger 
brother of an obscure family, she soon 
raised to the highest degrees of honour 
that a subject can attain unto. But he, 
like one whose eyes were dazzled and 
brain failed by being set in too high a 
place, forgot his first beginnings, and grew 
so insolent that the peers of Attica could 
not brook his greatness ; and envy being 
an inseparable companion to the fortune 
of a favourite, it was more than whispered 
abroad that he intended to possess himself 
of that kingdom, and that the queen en- 
tertained him in her favour chiefly to sa- 
tisfy her loose and unchaste desires; to 
which the great and untimely familiarity 
that she used with him, and the comely 
composure of his body seemed to give 
credit. Whereupon some of the principal 
of the nobility possessed the King with 
fears of his own safety, and a deep appre- 


nension of his mother's dishonour, which 
reflected upon him ; while the Queen and 
her favourite nothing doubted the imma- 
turity of his years and the slowness of his 
nature to be any interruption to their de- 
signs. But overmuch security was their 
overthrow ; for by that means he got the 
marquis into his power, and then by per- 
forming an action of much resolution, he 
gave testimony how slow natures, when 
they are once thoroughly warmed, retain 
that heat with much constancy ; for he 
caused the marquis to be slain without 
any form of process, and confined his mo- 
ther to a little town two or three days' 
journey from the court, with a strong 
guard upon her. But what cannot fury 
do in a woman's breast? for she, being im- 
patient at her imprisonment, at the loss 
of her friend, at the stain of her honour, 
and at her sequestration from the govern- 
ment, found soon a means to gain her 


liberty, by the assistance of one of the 
princes of that country, that had been 
very faithful to her husband, and was of 
great power and in high reputation for a 
soldier. Being at liberty, after many 
treaties of accommodation, which in the 
end proved of little effect, she retired her- 
self to Marathon, where she was confident 
of a strong party, intending there to raise 
forces, which she gave out were to remove 
some evil counsellors that were about the 
King her son : for pretences of justice and 
holiness are never wanting to any under- 
taking, be it never so undue, wicked, and 
unjust. Her hopes here failed not; for in 
a small time, she had got together such an 
army, as was deemed not only sufficient to 
resist any violence the King could use, 
but offeree enough, without the other suc- 
cours which were daily expected, to set 
upon him and work her own conditions : 
yet the advice of the ancient soldiers pre- 


vailed, which was, to expect the coming 
of the other troops, that they might jointly 
go with an united and solid strength to 
prosecute their designs : while in the mean 
time the King, on his part, used all the 
diligence that might be to levy forces. 
But the Queen and her party conceived 
his difficulties to be so great in that, and 
themselves so secure in that place, which 
was compassed in with rivers, and inacces- 
sible when the bridges were broken down, 
and the passages guarded, that they ex- 
pected nothing less than the arrival of the 
King : so that while she was to stay here 
in expectance of her other troops, she en- 
tertained herself with masques, feasts, 
musics, and such other recreations as 
might make time slide more pleasingly by 
her [Here a portion of the Manu- 
script is obliterated.] Theagenes, 

coming one masque-night to the court 
with the company that importuned him 


to go along with them, was by one of the 
ladies, that had known him at Athens, 
taken out to dance; in which he behaved 
himself in such sort, that whether it were 
the gracefulness of his gesture, wherein 
the commendations of art was the least 
thing he aimed at, or that the heavens had 
ordained he should be the punisher of the 
Queen's affections, she felt at the first, sight 
of him a secret love, which soon grew so 
violent that it made her forget her own 
greatness, and compelled Theagenes, in 
order to preserve his constancy for Stel- 
liana, to quit the court; and he caused it 
to be reported that he was murdered in the 
tumult which arose in consequence of the 
Queen having disbanded her forces, upon 
her reconciliation with the King her son, 
after the battle of Marathon. Soon after, he 
transported himself over the sea into Ionia, 
intending to spend some time in that plea- 
sant climate, where the sun seemed to cast 


more propitious beams than upon any other 
place ; for in fruitfulness of the soil it may 
well be termed the garden of the world ; 
and the cities of it, which are many, being 
every one under a several lord, the terri- 
tories of them are so small, and the means 
of extending themselves, by doing great 
actions abroad, so little, that those who 
have noble minds must apply themselves 
to contemplative and academic studies, 
wherein their spirits working upon them- 
selves, they are so refined, that for matters 
of wit, civility, and gentleness, these parts 
may be the level for the rest of the world 


to aim at. 

Here Theagenes resolved to detain him- 
self some time, as well to give himself the 
content of noble and learned conversation, 
as also to practise such exercises as befit a 
gentleman to have learned, and are the 
worthiest ornaments of a mind well fraught 
with interior notions, to attain to per- 


fection, in which here is complete conve- 
niency. Among all these towns, he chose 
Ephesus for his settled abode; from whence, 
at his first arrival, he wrote letters to Stel- 
liana to advertise her of his health, and to 
prevent the rumour of his death, which, 
happily, might come to her ears. But 
long and dear experience teacheth us that, 
in this transitory life, the bad doth mani- 
foldly exceed the good ; as, in this particu- 
lar, it did : for those letters miscarried, and 
the false news of his death was borne upon 
the wings of fame with such speed, that, in 
a very few days after the loss of the battle 
at Marathon, it was known at Corinth, 
where it found Stelliana labouring with 
an impatient desire of hearing of him who * 
was the only object of her loving thoughts. 
It is too high a task for my rude pen to 
draw any counterfeit of the deep sorrow 
which then took possession of her heart ; 
which was of such a heavy nature, that, at 


the first, it locked up all her senses as in a 
dull lethargy ; so that, with too deep a 
sense, she became insensible of grief; but 
after a while, when she seemed to waken 
out of a dream by the heart's dispersing 
abroad of the spirits to be the sad messen- 
gers of this doleful news to the other fa- 
culties of the soul, that they might bear 
their part in due mourning, then did her 
tongue frame such lamentable complaints, 
as, to have heard them, would have con- 
verted the most savage heart into a flood 
of tears; and yet sorrow sate so sweetly 
enthroned within her mournful eyes, as 
would have made the lightest heart in love 
with those blessed tears, that seemed like 
the morning dews sprinkled upon Aurora's 
face. " Alas !" would she say, " wherein have 
I offended Death that he thus cruelly should 
rob me of my dearest jewel ? yet, since 
thy stroke is never to be recalled, 1 will 
pardon thee, and, henceforward call thee 


courteous, if thou wilt level at me thy 
leaden dart, that so I may be exempted 
from all the miseries of this life which 
remain to me, and follow my joys that are 
gone before me into the other world : but, 
oh ! it seemeth my love was weak, that 
cannot call sorrow enough to break that 
heart which ought to have lived only in my 
Theagenes. However, if love and sorrow 
cannot do it, nor death will come at a 
wretch's call, fury and despair shall bring 
my cursed life to a wished end ; and this 
hand only, so often made happy with his 
burning kisses, deserveth to be the instru- 
ment of such a glorious act, as will bring 
me to the enjoyment of my soul's delight, 
where it will be out of the power of fortune 
to cross or disturb my joys. There shall 
our happy spirits wander in the Elysian 
fields, and be united together with the 
holy fire of divine love in that immense 
and glorious flaming light, which compre- 


hendeth all things. But, ah ! me, whither 
do my wandering fancies carry me into a 
night of error? I know, alas ! I know too 
well, that the gates which lead souls into 
the region of bliss, are shut against them 
that lay violent hands upon themselves ; 
and good reason it is that they should be 
tormented in eternal darkness, who, through 
self-love, give up without order or leave 
the custody of that fort, which God and 
nature put them in to maintain : and look- 
ing with the light of truth and not of 
passion, what is it but self-love that maketh 
me thus wish to die? He that I lament, is 
doubtless enthroned in happiness among 
the blessed angels that in this life he re- 
sembled, and is labouring to get me to 
him. Shall I then, with immature haste, 
overthrow those joys which I have reason 
to hope for? No, no; wretched heart, live 
on till he call thee to a better state, and in 
the mean time my life shall be a continual 


martyrdom, which, I hope, may purge and 
refine such defects as are natural in me, and 
make me worthy of that seat, which, I am 
sure, he will provide for me." 

With such incessant lamentations, pro- 
ceeding from a deeply wounded soul, she 
spent many days without any diminution 
of sorrow; and, pretending indisposition 
of health, admitted the visits of none but 
Mardontius, who, as you have heard, saved 
her from certain death, when she lay at 
the mercy of the merciless wolf; who then, 
at the first sight of her, drank into his 
bowels the secret flames of a deep affection, 
which, from that very instant, increased 
upon him and grew so violent, that he 
could not rest for thinking of her; and, 
love making men industrious, he had im- 
mediate notice when she went from Arte- 
sia's house to Corinth, whither, with all 
speed, he followed her, and applied himself 
to her service with all the affectionate 


demonstrations of extreme love, that a 
young heart, deeply wounded, could ex- 
press ; and had given her some knowledge 
of the much that, for her sake, he endured, 
and would have proceeded farther in the 
begging of her favour, but that, in the 
very beginning of his passionate discourse, 
she interrupted him, and told him that, if 
he did ever again use that language to her, 
she should estrange herself from his sight 
and friendship, to the which, if he gave 
not occasion of the contrary, she held her- 
self in gratitude obliged, as owing her life 
unto him : and, therefore, ever since that 
time, she had allotted him so much of her 
esteem and good-will as a sister may bear 
to a brother ; but that, for matter of affec- 
tion, he should never hope for any, she not 
being ashamed to confess ingenuously that 
it was wholly and only vowed to Theagenes. 
Wherefore Mardontius, that had been 
long enough trained to the world to know 


that women's passions are not perpetual, 
but that by how much more violent they 
are, so much less durance they use to have, 
gave over those solicitations which he yet 
saw unseasonable, and would not venture 
the loss of all by striving to make too 
sudden a gain of all ; but, for the present, 
contented himself with that part which 
he had in her good esteem, hoping that 
time, and the absence of Theagenes, and 
many other accidents, might one day con- 
vert it into affection; while he remained 
vigilant to make use of all such opportuni- 
ties of endearing himself to her as fortune, 
or the revolution of woman's constancy, 
might give him overtures of. And thus, 
by pretending a respective and not affec- 
tionate love ever after his check from her, 
he had insinuated himself so far into her 
good liking, that, afterward, when she re- 
ceived the news of Theagenes's death, and 
that the stormy violence of the first im- 


pression of grief was a little over, she 
admitted him sometimes into her company, 
when all other was troublesome and hateful 
to her. He then, like one cunning in the 
nature and qualities of passions, would not 
bluntly oppose her sorrow, knowing that 
such contrasting doth rather farther engage 
and heat one in it, than any ways diminish 
it; nor yet go about unseasonably to carry 
her thoughts, by persuasion or mentioning 
them, to contrary objects, as of content 
and pleasure : but as a faithful physician 
that is not able to purge away some bad 
humour that, in an infirm body, oppressed 
some particular part, doth use such medi- 
cines as may mingle themselves with it, and 
so carry it gently to serve some other 
member, even so did he first seem to bear 
a part with her in her grief, till he had got 
so much credit with her, and insensibly 
won such an inclination in her to like of 
what he said and did, that, at length, she 



left her solitary lamenting by herself, and 
took some contentment in condoling with 
him her misfortune; and then, by following 
diligently his begun practice of consolation 
by diversion, he wrought her so iruch from 
the sharpness of her grief, that she took 
delight in his company ; and thus he took 
the advantage of her sorrow, which had 
made her heart tender and apt to receive a 
deeper impression of liking and good-will 
towards him than before ; which she denied 
noi; to him, assuring him that, of all men 
then living, she did, and had most reason 
to respect him most ; with which she de- 
sired him to content himself, and to seek 
no farther from her, for that, ever since 
Theagenes's death, her heart was also dead 
to all passionate affections. 

But, in the mean time, that monster 
which was begot of some fiend in hell, and 
feedeth itself upon the infected breaths of 
the base multitude, Fame ! made a false 


construction of her actions, and did spread 
abroad a scandalous rumour of the fami- 
liarity of Mardontius with her ; which, 
perad venture, he also increased by speak- 
ing more lavishly of her favours than he 
had a real ground for ; thinking to do 
himself honour, by making the world be- 
lieve him to be dear to her that had en- 
grossed to herself the whole heaven of 
beauty, and was, accordingly, adored by 
all those that had any spark of gentleness 
or nobleness in their hearts; which rumour 
being once on foot, it was too late for her, 
that was so young, so beautiful, and at 
liberty in the world, to suppress it, con- 
sisting of a fantastic aerial body that ad- 
mitteth no hold to be taken of it, nor can 
be traced to the ground or author thereof; 
but, having once gotten upon its wings, 
subsisteth by its own lightness in weak 
understandings, as the vulgar of men have, 
who are not able to give any reason for 

H 2 


what they believe. This fury then, that 
will not spare innocence itself, made Stel- 
liana her prey, whose soul was as white 
and free from spot as virtue is ; so that the 
greatest enemy she had, speaking most 
sharply to her disadvantage, and truly, 
could but have said, that if her sorrow for 
Theagenes were grown more temperate 
than at the first, it was only because that 
it exceeded the bounds of what less noble 
hearts could think, and still remained far 
greater than was fit for a rational and well 
tempered mind, that ought to have her will 
and desires resigned to the will and ordi- 
nance of the superior power; and had, in 
the bitterness of it, made her so much 
forget her wonted discretion, as through 
too much indulgency to admit Mardon- 
tius, who seemed to applaud her in it, to a 
nearer familiarity than, in terms or rigour, 
was fit for her, or than her affection did 
really call him unto. But she was so deeply 


engaged in this inconvenience before she 
was aware, that Mardontius then with 
much eagerness pressed to draw her from 
her former resolution of solitariness, not 
doubting now or fearing the effects of her 
wonted frowns and rigour, when he inti- 
mated any such desire of his ; and withal, 
the nearest of her friends that had a quick 
sense of her good, importuned her therein 
as much as he could do ; both because it 
was in secular respects such a fortune to 
her, as she had no reason to refuse ; bat 
most of all they represented to her, that 
she had inconsiderately brought herself so 
much upon the stage, and submitted her- 
self to the world's censure for Mardontius's 
sake, that she could not now retire from 
him without much dishonour : which last 
consideration weighed so much with her 
above all others, that what neither love nor 
his merits, nor no other motive could, the 
sense of her honour, which she deemed 


much dearer than her Jif'e, won her unto : 
so that after a year's, and more, lamenting 
of her lost Theagenes, she gave a cold and 
half constrained consent to condescend to 
Mardontius's suit ; who then immediately 
took care to provide, with much splendour 
and magnificence, all things necessary to 
give an honourable solemnity to their 
nuptials ; having in the mean time begged 
and obtained from her, leave to have her 
picture drawn by an excellent workman ; 
which, afterward, he used to shew as a 
glorious trophy of her conquered affec- 

All this while Theagenes, who had writ- 
ten several letters to the goddess of his 
devotions, the first of which miscarried, 
and the rest were industriously intercepted 
and suppressed by his mother, who was 
jealous of his affection, wondered that he 
had no return of any of them ; so that his 
doubtful fears, and yet he knew not what 


to doubt or fear, plunged him into a deep 
melancholy, from which he daily, upon 
sundry occasions, interpreted to himself 
many sad presages of near ensuing disasters. 
When, at length, the heart-breaking 
news of Stelliana's approaching marriage 
with Mardontius, was brought to him by a 
gentleman that was lately come from Co- 
rinth to Ephesus, intending to spend some 
time there upon the same occasion that 
Theagenes did ; who, taking it up but 
upon public fame, delivered it with such 
circumstances, as went much to the preju- 
dice of her honour. Theagenes then quite 
forgot the noble temper of his mind, which 
being by nature composed of an excellent 
mixture, and, besides, richly cultivated 
with continual study and philosophical 
precepts, did formerly stand in defiance 
of fortune ; but now he was so overborne 
with passion, that he might serve for a 
clear example to all who may promise 


most of themselves, that none can be so 
completely perfect in this life, nor armed 
against the assaults of passions, but that 
some one way or other there is an entrance 
unto him left unguarded, whereby he may 
be humbled and put in mind, at his own 
cost, of the frailty of human nature. For 
his soul was so overburdened with grief, 
that his reason, and all that he knew and 
could advise to others upon like occasions, 
availed him nothing in his own behalf; but, 
sinking under that insupportable weight, 
he became equal with the lowest and 
meanest natures; but he differed from them 
much in the manner of expressing it, for, 
whereas they for the most part yield to 
tenderness, and bemoan themselves, taking 
their disasters unkindly at fortune's hands ; 
he, as soon as his shrunk heart began to 
dilate itself, broke out into a torrent of 
fury, cursing all womankind for Stelliana's 
sake; and was so possessed with anger and 


disdain, that, if nature had been in his 
power, he would have turned the world 
again into a dark chaos. " Oh ! miserable 
condition," did he say, " of men that must, 
through the unjust laws of nature, take 
half their being from this unworthy sex ! 
for how can I style it other, when she, for 
whose sake alone I was in charity with the 
rest, proveth false to her own honour, and 
to me that loved her better than my own 
soul? Injurious stars! why gave you so 
fair and beautiful an outside to so foul and 
deformed a mind? And what secret sin 
have I committed so great, that I must be 
made the idolater of such a dire portent? 
Is it that as death and misery came upon 
the generality of mankind by the seduce- 
ment of one woman, so new ruins must, by 
another, fall upon me, because I strive to 
raise myself out of this original and fatal 
hard condition? What do all my pious 
resolutions now avail me, all my studies to 


draw me out of the mist of ignorance 
wherein I was born, and to arm me against 
the frailty of human nature, since at once 
a woman's inconstancy hath overthrown, 
and, like a ravenous fire, consumed all 
those seeds of good that began to grow 
within me? Oh weak aims and fond ambi- 
tion of men, that so wretched a blast can 
convert into smoke ! But whither doth my 
passion carry my words cross to my under- 
standing? for I know this can and hath, 
with me, performed more than all the pre- 
cepts of divinity and philosophy could ; 
this hath framed a settled mind in me, of 
an excellent temper, that neither desireth 
nor feareth any thing, which they but 
coldly aim at. Now all things and all for- 
tunes are alike to me, for I wish not for 
good nor fear bad, since she, for whose 
sake I should do either, deserveth now 
nothing but dire execrations from my af- 
flicted and restless soul ; which yet my 


melting heart, whensoever I think on her, 
will not permit me to utter, but smothereth 
my just curses : yet, thus much I will 
swear, and call heaven to witness, that, for 
the future, I will have irreconcilable wars 
with that perfidious sex ; and so blaze 
through the world their un worthiness and 
falsehood, that I hope their turn will come 
to sue to men for their love, and, being 
denied, despair and die. And thou, once 
dear pledge of my lady's virgin affections, 
but now the magical filtre of her enchant- 
ing and siren-like beauty, thou canst wit- 
ness how I have, day and night, ever since 
I wore thee, sighed her name ; be now her 
forerunner into the fire, that will one day 
torment her traitorous soul ; and as thou 
consumest there like a sacrifice to the in- 
fernal furies, of whom only vengeance is 
begged, and that thy grosser element 
turneth into ashes, may thy lighter and 
airy parts mingle itself with the wind, and 


tell her, from me, that when rage and 
despair have severed my injured soul from 
my cold limbs, my ghostly shadow shall 
be every where present to her, and so 
affright her guilty conscience, that she 
shall gladly run to death to shelter her 
from my greater plaguing her." And, as 
he spoke these last words, he tore from his 
arm the bracelet of her hair, which she had 
given him, and threw it into the fire that 
was in his chamber ; when that glorious 
relic burning, shewed, by the blue and wan 
colour of the flame, that it had sense, and 
took his words unkindly in her behalf. 
But sorrow and anger had so consumed 
his spirits, that he could no longer frame 
his voice into an articulate sound, but, 
casting himself upon his bed, sighed out 
the deep anguishes of his tormented soul 
all that day and night, and the next. Oh ! 
what would have become of StellianaY 
tenderer heart, if she should have then 


known in what plight he remained, and to 
what extremities he was brought for her 
sake? Certainly death would have taken 
up the room both of love to him, and of 
shame for her unfortunate error. But the 
just heaven, whose judgments are inscru- 
table, had ordained a happier end to these 
noble lovers; and as it useth oftentimes to 
effect the greatest actions by the most 
unlikely means, so it made her consent to 
marry Mardontius to be the first cause of 
dissolving it. For he being a young man 
of an unstayed spirit, though his much wit 
could disguise that and many other of his 
imperfections, and entertaining love no 
farther than into his eyes, the eagerness of 
his suit to her proceeded much from the 
supposed difficulty of the task to gain her 
consent, and win her from her former af- 
fections ; which, when he had done, he 
soon grew cold in prosecuting it to the 
utmost and ceremonious performance ; 


and being then some time absent at his 
own house in the country, to prepare it, as 
he pretended, to receive her according to 
her worth, his eyes were, during that ab- 
sence, inveigled with a new rural beauty, 
his heart delighting most in change, 
whose favour he solicited with as much 
fervour as ever he had done his late mis- 
tress's. Which, when Stelliana heard of, 
a generous disdain enflamed her heart, 
which made her despise Mardontius, and 
resolve to sequester herself from the con- 
versation of men; since him, whom only 
she loved with affection, was taken away 
from her by the cruel fates, and he, whom 
she had forced herself to like for other 
respects, had taken himself from her by 
his own unworthiness : from which reso- 
lution of hers, no persuasion of her friends, 
nor humble and self-accusing repentance 
of Mardontius, could draw her. For he 
then, being wakened out of his fond dream 


of a second love by her just scorn, did 
apply himself in the most affectionate 
manner that he could to regain her favour, 
not omitting any industry that might con- 
duce thereunto : wherein he gave a full 
testimony, that in sensual minds love is 
armed, and, as it were, spurred on by diffi- 
culties ; and groweth flat and languisheth 
when it walketh in an easy path. But all 
his endeavours proved vain in this second 
suit ; so that Stelliana not only withdrew 
her good liking from him as a person un- 
worthy of it, but armed herself with hatred 
against him, and answered all his visits 
and courtesies with harsh affronts ; and 
when he saw no other hope or remedy, he 
was glad to intermit them, and leave to 
time and his better fortune hereafter, to 
mollify her heart, that was now so inflexibly 
hard towards him. 

Having spun thus much of this history, 
it is time for me now to take a little breath ; 


and the rather, because I am now come to 
that part of it that requireth freshest spirits 
and best attention to set it down ; for from 
henceforward the fortunes of Theagenes 
mingled themselves with, and had a part 
in the actions of great princes, and, but 
that they were guided by a secret working 
of Divine Providence, did run in such a 
way, as none could have expected that 
they would have had such a period of hap- 
piness as/at length, they attained unto: 
which, by the following discourse, you will 

The King of Morea being now stricken 
in years, and having but one only son, was 
daily moved by the nobles of the state to 
dispose of him in marriage in some fitting 
place; that if heaven blessed him with 
issue in his father's life-time, the kingdom's 
quiet, which had lately passed dangerous 
revolutions, might hang by more than one 
thread : to which advice the old king had 


formerly been adverse, and by some that 
knew his nature it was imputed to . . . . 
[Two ' lines obliterated.] ..... should by 
..... gain himself so much strength as 
might curb him. But now the long expe- 
rience that he had of the sweetness of his 
son's nature, made him void of suspicions 
or apprehensions on that side ; and the 
great propagation of a sect of religion in 
his state, that affected popularity and com- 
munity, and were enemies to all govern- 
ment and magistrates, made him doubt 
that, in time, it might grow dangerous and 
hard to suppress; therefore he, that was 
ever an enemy to proceedings of rigour 
and open violence, and was an excellent 
master in all sorts of subtilty, thought it 
the best way to balance it by introducing 
another religion directly opposite unto 
that, which was indeed nothing but a 
stretching to the utmost extremity, by 
turbulent brains that affected singularity, 



those moderate tenets which the whole 
state professed, when they severed them- 
selves from the general society of belief 
which was formerly uniform through all 
Greece, and a great part of Asia and of 
Africa ; and did afford to captious persons 
cause of cavil rather at the professors than 
the doctrine ; which separation was em- 
braced only by the provinces subject to 
the crown of Morea, and by the Ionian 
Islands, and some others in the Archipe- 
lago; and that rather for temporal respects, 
than any great zeal in religion, although 
that fair pretence did colour the inno- 
vations in their long received faith. But 
now those respects which weighed im- 
portantly in this king's predecessor ceased 
with him ; so that, either through love of 
truth, which he, being very learned, could 
not but apprehend rightly, or fear of the 
dangerous tenets of the increasing sect, or 
a desire not to be barred from the society 


and communion of other princes, without 
which, he saw it was impossible for him or 
his successors to perform great and glo- 
rious actions, as his ancestors had done, his 
heart was vehemently bent to unite his 
people with the rest of the adjoining 
princes in the firm knot of consciences, 
faith. Which yet he saw was not expe- 
dient for him to do by any direct means, 
therefore he deemed it his best to oblige 
the King of Egypt to him, by the marriage 
of his son to that king's daughter : hoping 
thus insensibly to bring in the general 
opinion, and to overrun the new ones by 
that match ; the King of Egypt being the 
principal and most powerful maintainer of 
that side. To which negociation he chose 
Aristobulus, a near kinsman of Theagenes, 
who, in the reputation of solid wisdom and 
rigid honesty, advanced all the other no- 
blemen that were of council to him ; and 
from a younger brother, that had but a 

i 2 


small estate left him, though he were of a 
noble house, had, by his own industry, 
raised himself and his fortunes to as high a 
pitch as a subject may aim unto in a mo- 
narchy : and that not by a servile manner, 
or by multitude of offices, or by the direct 
favour of his prince; but having, at the 
first, which was his greatest difficulty, 
found means to make known his intel- 
lectual abilities of serving his master, he 
ever after, in a generous manner, raised 
himself by degrees, and made his way with 
his own virtue, so that all men concurred 
in saying, that his preferments were but 
condign rewards in justice due to his tran- 
scendant merits. He then, having public 
and secret instructions from the King of 
Morea, had been in Egypt, and in effect 
concluded the match between the two 
kings' children, when the unexpected death 
of the Egyptian king disordered all the 
former treaties, so that some time was lost 


in renewing of them ; and he sent again to 
Alexandria to the young king, the lady's 
brother, to have him confirm what his 
father consented unto : upon which em- 
ployment he was, when the fame of The- 
agenes's hopefulness was spread from Ionia 
to Egypt, between which two countries 
there was continual and settled intercourse, 
so that Aristobulus, who had, with many 
others of his friends, lamented his death, 
much rejoiced in that news ; and wisely 
considering that as the training up of 
youth in virtuous exercises of the mind 
and body is at the first mainly necessary, 
so to continue too long in such a school is 
a frustrating of the intent of it, and loss of 
that time which should be employed in the 
practice of such acquired knowledge and 
cunning ; he therefore sent on purpose into 
Ionia to invite him to come to him to 
Alexandria, where he had plentiful means 
to put him in a way of benefiting himself, 


and making himself known in great actions ; 
and withal would not be a little glad to 
have near him, one upon whose love and 
faith and resolution he might so firmly 
rely ; for by his marching in a path of 
honour in a way by himself, which he did, 
as it were, by main force hew out of the 
rock of virtue, and, being contrary to the 
current of those depraved times, he had 
acquired himself many and powerful ene- 
mies. Theagenes receiving this friendly 
invitation, and all places being now indif- 
ferent unto him, for he received joy in 
nothing, since she, in whom he had placed 
it, was become the cause of his sharpest 
grief, he did soon condescend to comply 
with Aristobulus's kind request ; and, al- 
though he had banished from him all 
wishes and desires of good to himself since 
he was frustrated of it where he only de- 
sired it, yet his generous heart represented 
to him, that it would be meanness in him 


not to employ, for others' profit, those ta- 
lents which God and better nature had 
bestowed upon him. Wherefore with this 
mind, but overclouded with sorrow and 
deep melancholy, he began his journey for 
Alexandria, going the first part of it by 
land, and the rest by sea. In the conti- 
nuance of which, it was his fortune to fall 
into the company of a Brachman of India, 
who shaped his course the same way that 
he did ; which man, as his name giveth 
him out to be, was one of those that the 
Indians held in great veneration for their 
professed sanctity and deep knowledge of 
the most hidden mysteries of theology 
and of nature ; in which this priest of theirs 
exceeded most of his time, and yet was 
possessed with such an ardent desire of 
bettering his knowledge, that when he 
conceived he had attained to the complete 
understanding of such learning as was in 
practice among them, he left his own na- 


live country and friends, and travelled into 
the western parts of the world to partake 
of what sciences flourished there. With 
this man then, Theagenes, whose mind yet 
was not altogether out of love with intel- 
lectual notions, entered into much fami- 
liarity, whereby he had daily more cause 
not only to admire his wisdom, but withal 
his grave conversation was mingled with 
so much grace and with such attractive 
sweetness, that he grew very affectionate 
to him, wherein it seemed that the good 
old man was no whit behindhand with 
Theagenes ; so that one day, as they rid 
together behind the rest of the company, 
being grown confident that what he spoke 
with reverence would be well taken, he 
said thus to him : " I have found, worthy 
Theagenes, so much nobleness and gene- 
rousness in you, accompanied with such 
friendliness to me that I have reason to 
thank my stars when first they made me fall 


into your company ; but withal I have upon 
occasions observed so much sadness and 
deep conceived grief to sit upon your brow, 
that my dear affection to you, which I hope 
will excuse my presumption, hath often- 
times called upon me, and now at length 
forceth me, to beseech you, if you may, to 
communicate the cause of it unto me; that 
knowing it, if my ad.vice or endeavours 
may avail to do you service, I may employ 
them ; or at the least, if I cannot help you, 
I may condole with you your misfortunes." 
" Reverend Sir/' answered then Thea- 
genes with a deep sigh, "any thing con- 
cerning me is not worthy your thoughts, 
which are always employed in divine and 
high speculations ; but since you descend 
so low as to take notice of the outward ap- 
parel of my afflicted mind, I will give you 
thus much satisfaction herein, as to tell 
you that my misfortunes are such as it is 
not in the power of any man to remedy 


them ; and then it is not reason that so 
desertless a consideration should draw an 
unprofitable compassion from you to dis- 
turb that quiet joy that your mind resteth 
happy in." f " But," replied the priest, "if 
you will not acquaint me with the particu- 
lar, give me leave to tell you in general, 
that no accident can be so bad in this life, 
but that the celestial bodies have power 
to turn it to good; and when men bear 
their adversities with temperate and con- 
stant minds, it doth in a manner challenge 
of justice that they reward his patience 
with that blessing/' "Ah/* then cried 
out Theagenes, " if those superior lights 
had the rule of men's actions and fortunes, 
then should not I that have deserved the 
best of goods, I speak it without ostenta- 
tion and only for truth's sake, be now re- 
warded with the worst of evils ; but it is 
blind chance that governeth the world, 
which mingleth and shuffleth men's good 


and bad actions, and their condign retri- 
butions, in fatal darkness, and then distri- 
buteth them with promiscuous error." 
" You cannot be a competent judge/' an- 
swered the Brachman, "in your own 
cause ; therefore, if you will let me know 
what it is that thus afflicteth you, I doubt 
not but to make you evidently see the 
error of what you now said, and confess 
that not chance, but the heavens and stars 
govern this world, which are the only 
books of fate ; whose secret characters 
and influence, but few, divinely inspired, 
can read in the true sense that their Creator 
gave them." " I am glad," replied Thea- 
genes, " of any diversion to draw iny 
thoughts from the corrosive object that 
night and day they feed upon ; but now 
particularly, that your discourse hath of- 
fered a means not only of doing that, but 
also to inform my ignorance: therefore I 
beseech you mention no more that which 


I were happy if I could forget ; . but for my 
instruction give me leave to oppose you in 
that you say the stars are the books of 
fate ; which seemeth to imply such a ne- 
cessity in human actions as well as in other 
natural ones, that it overthroweth quite 
the liberty of the will, which certainly is 
the only pre-eminence that man can glory 
in, and that we are taught to believe, and 
see evidently to be true/' " This objec- 
tion of yours," answered the Brachman, 
"is the subject of a large dispute, which is 
too long now to be handled ; but for your 
satisfaction, I will briefly run over some of 
the principal heads of it; from which you 
may of yourself draw many other conclu- 
sions. Know then that the infinite wisdom 
of Him who created all things, and dis- 
posed them with admirable sweetness, did 
frame this world and all that is in it in 
such an artificial order, that contrariety 
and disagreeing qualities is the only knot 


of this perfect concord ; in the elements it 
is apparent, and in the virtual qualities of 
simples, where fire and water, poisons and 
antidotes, heat and cold, dry ness and 
moisture, are always equally found ; as 
also in all things whatsoever of this sublu- 


nary world, which, consisting of several 
creatures of differing degrees of perfection, 
do serve us as so many steps to ascend to 
the knowledge of what is above us. A 
more admirable order and fuller of divine 
wisdom cannot be conceived, therefore 
God hath also used it in the superior crea- 
tures, the noblest of which are human 
souls; in which one may consider an en- 
tire liberty together with a constrained ne- 
cessity, which no way impeach or hinder 
one another; for to these he gave a capa- 
city of the greatest perfection that ;>ny 
creature may possess, to wit, the power of 
uniting themselves by blessed vision to 
His eternal and infinite essence; the 


means of attaining to the which, is due 
only to free actions; which liberty, as it 
hath relation to us and to our actions, is 
entire in the highest degree, and without 
any constraint at all : but if we have rela- 
tion to the prescience of God, who from 
all eternity knoweth all earthly things, and 
to whom nothing is past or to come, but 
all present, then I say that our actions are 
included within a necessity of being con- 
formable to God's knowledge, which can- 
not err. This knowledge, then, of God, is 
a law or prescript for the coming to pass 
of all things, be they either the actions of 
free agents, or future contingents, or the 
changes and vicissitudes of natural agents: 

o o * 

but He that framed nature doth but sel- 
dom, and that for deep and mysterious 
cause, interpose Himself immediately in 
any thing, but leaveth the course of all 
things to that rule which in the beginning 
of things he prescribed ; that is, that in- 


feriors should be subaltern unto and 
guided by their superiors ; the heaven, 
then, and stars being so in respect of us, 
not only in place but in dignity, in dura- 
tion, in quantity, in quality, and in purity 
of substance, it is agreeable to reason that 
they by their influence do govern this in- 
ferior world/' 

" Certainly/' replied Theagenes, " your 
discourse is full of much learning and sub- 
tlety ; but the prescience of God being 
such a vast abyss and immense ocean, that 
whosoever saileth in it by the compass of 
reason, cannot choose but suffer ship- 
wreck, I think it will be our best to row 
along the shore, where without danger we 
may examine that part of this question 
that concerneth only ourselves. Therefore, 
if there be any natural and philosophical 
reason to confirm the doctrine of the stars 
being the cause and fore-she wers of men's 
fortunes and future contingents, I shall be 


glad to understand it from you ; for in 
sundry of them there concur so many seve- 
ral and different accidents to bring forth 
some one effect, that it cannot sink into 
me how a general cause, as I conceive the 
heaven to be at the most, can extend 
itself to so many particulars/' " It is the 
generality and vast comprehension," re- 
plied the Indian priest, " of the cause that 
enfoldeth the great number of particular 
effects ; but since you have confined me 
to that part which only concerneth us, and 
will not have me touch upon the pre- 
science of God, that is the rule of free 
agents, who are subordinate to it, I must 
also, in the following discourse, set aside 
those actions that depend immediately 
upon the liberty of the will; and for the 
influence of the heavens into the elements 
and elementated substances which causeth 
alterations in the humours of man's body, 
and several seasons of the years, and 


plenty, and dearths, and pestilence, it is 
so evident to sense, that I shall not need 
to speak of it ; therefore, to prove that 
future contingencies depend upon them, 
which only remaineth for me to treat of, I 
will say this ; that as every cause hath of 
necessity some effect subsequent, so every 
effect, with like necessity, implieth a pre- 
cedent cause, they being relatives ; and 
since no man can deny that accidents and 
future contingents are the effects of some- 
thing, let us examine what may be their 
cause. Such as depend immediately upon 
free-will enter not into this consideration, 
for at the beginning we excepted them. 
The operations of elementated agents are 
necessary and constrained, and extendeth 
no farther than to natural alterations 
when agents and patients meet, so that 
men's fortunes and contingent actions arc 
out ot their sphere ; what then can govern 
them ? Is it blind chance, as you seemed 


even now in some passion to intimate, that 
without reason, or knowledge, or atten- 
tion, shaketh so many various accidents 
out of her lap? Truly this objection de- 
serveth no reply, since it is evident with 
what exact order God hath disposed all 
things else, and therefore certainly would 
not leave man alone in so miserable a con- 
dition, to be guided by such a blind and 
monstrous guide ; nor is it consentaneous 
unto reason, to think that angels and devils 
do interpose themselves in our ordinary 
and familiar actions, since the first are ex- 
pressly sent by God, and that only when 
they may be the means of some great and 
spiritual good unto us ; and the other do 
maliciously intrude themselves only when 
they have hope to work our misery and 
ruin : it remaineth then only that the hea- 
vens and stars must of necessity be allowed 
by us to be the causes of all contingent 
accidents, and the authors of our fortunes 


and actions, whereby the liberty of the will 
doth not immediately and expressly re- 
pugn and wrestle against the disposition 
of the heavens ; which I am sure you, that 
will admit no farther of this doctrine than 
this latter and undeniable part, will grant 
to be so few, that it may be a question 
whether there be really any such or no, or 
that this be only an abstracted speculation 
of the understanding. And why should 
any man make difficulty to acknowledge 
this virtue in the stars, since somewhere it 
must be granted, seeing the notorious ef- 
fects and excellencies that they have in 
other things, as I have already touched ? 
Surely those glorious and vast bodies were 
not made and endued with a constant mo- 
tion only for vain men to gaze upon ? 
Then let me conclude with this, that since 
to meaner lights, as to comets, and other 
meteors drawn from low and putrified 
places of the rarth,of whose infectious and 

K 'J 


pestilent vapours they consist, and are 
then set on fire in the air, we by daily ex- 
perience attribute the ominous presages of 
the death of kings, of revolutions of em- 
pires, wars, pestilence, famine, dearths, 
and such other dire effects ; let us without 
difficulty acknowledge a nobler operation 
in these glorious bodies that are the effi- 
cient causes of the other ; and having ad- 
mitted them for causes, you will grant that 
who hath the knowledge of their nature, 
may, by calculating their motions for time 
to come, prognosticate their effects/' 

" I would to God/' said then Theagenes, 
" that you were as well pleased in instruct- 
ing me, as I am delighted in learning of 
you ; then would I desire the clearing of 
a matter which you touched upon in this 
discourse, since I must confess I remain 
much satisfied in this concerning the ope- 
rations of the stars; and I conceive it will 
not be abruptly moved by me now, con- 


sidering that the practice which dependeth 
upon the theorical knowledge of what I 
desire to be informed of, hath a near af- 
finity to the science of the stars; and, if 
we may credit rumour, is often joined to 
it by the professors of the other, when that 
proveth defective." " Let no other mo- 
tive," replied the Brachman, " but your 
being weary of my ignorant discourses de- 
tain you from proposing any doubt you 
have unto me, and I shall strive the best 
that I can to deliver the knowledge of 
truth unto you ; wherein, although I must 
acknowledge myself to have been but a 
weak proficient, yet the desire I have to 
answer your expectation of me, I find doth 
exalt ray soul to higher notions than other- 
wise it would have ; so that if I speak any 
thing to the purpose, you are the cause of 
it, and I must thank you for it/' " I per- 
ceive," replied Theagenes, " that cour- 
teous language is not confined to princes' 


palaces, since you, who have ever studied 
things and not words, are so complete a 
master therein ; but in you I am sure it 
proceedeth from a nobler cause than either 
affectation or custom ; it is your inherent 
modesty, which is an inseparable com- 
panion to virtue, that in your own opinion 
lesseneth yourself as much as others ad- 
mire and esteem you, of which number I 
will presume to place myself in the fore- 
most rank. But to express, in short, what 
it is that I desire you to instruct me in, 
you may remember how even now you 
intimated that upon some occasions 
angels and devils do interpose themselves 
in our actions ; which is a doctrine so con- 
trary, in my opinion, to the rule of reason, 
that I must confess I cannot make myself 
capable of it. I will let pass the opera- 
tions of angels, which, you seemed to say, 
were sent to us as messengers and effecters 
of God's will, because I will not treat of 


the immediate and extraordinary Divine 
Power, to which all things are easy : but 
my arguments shall be against the power 
of action of the infernal spirits upon any 
material substance ; who, you say, are in- 
duced by their own malicious will to dis- 
turb our quiet, or to do us hurt. But be- 
fore I go any farther, I desire to know 
yonr opinion whether it be in their natural 
power to do the least action that may be 
imagined upon any corporeal object, or so 
much as to appear to our eyesight, either 
by deluding our sense or assuming a fan- 
tastic body of air?" " Surely," answered 
the Brachman, " if I should entertain the 
least doubt of it, I should repugn too 
grossly against the authority of innumera- 
ble classical writers and believed histories, 
and against daily experience; and if you 
do, I will undertake to reduce you with 
ease and suddenly out of this error : but 
first, I shall be glad to understand your 


reasons, that may make you of a different 
belief." " That which you urge of many 
confident stories of this nature recorded 
by grave authors/' replied Theagenes, 
" would weigh much with me, if I had not 
express and evident demonstration against 
what they deliver; but as for daily ex- 
perience, I attribute nothing at all to that, 
since I will yield to none in industry and 
curiosity to satisfy myself herein, but yet 
never could ; and have been so conversant 
with deceits in this kind, wherein many 
men strive by a strong but depraved and 
false imagination to deceive themselves, 
that I dare credit nothing that I see not 
myself. I will not deny but that spirits 
may work upon a man's mind, by reason 
that souls and they are comprehended 
under the same degree and kind of sub- 
stance ; but bodies and spirits are of so 
contrary a nature, that there can be no 
communion between them ; for in all ac- 


tions there must be a proportionate means 
of operation between the agent and the 
patient, which in spiritual substances 
among themselves I conceive to be the un- 
derstanding and will ; and of material 
ones, in living creatures the senses, and in 
other bodies the primary qualities of the 
material forms ; but between bodies and 
spirits I cannot conceive what tie or means 
of conjunction there can be : so that I 
think I may safely conclude, that they 
can neither appear to us, nor assume 
bodies, nor cause tempests or impressions 
in the air, nor speak or cause any sound, 
nor transport any thing, the least material 
atom in the world, from place to place, 
nor do any hurt at all to the most wretched 
reprobate that is." " I must confess," an- 
swered the Brachman, after some pause, 
" that the argument you use is very subtle, 
and seemeth to proceed from strength of 
reason ; but much and different things 


may be replied to it, as that there is a ge- 
neral spirit of the world, which is a means 
of uniting together intellectual substances 
and material ones ; and of conveying the 
powers of the one to the other by partici- 
pating with them both in some quality; or 
that there is some such knot between 
them as is between the body and soul of 
man, which we evidently see are joined 
together, but know not by what means ; 
or rather we may say, that there is not in 
nature any pure spirit but God, but that 
angels, souls of men, and devils are all 
comprehended within the general definition 
of a body, yet withal they are of such a 
subtle, incorruptible, and refined sub- 
stance beyond elementary bodies, that in 
respect of them, those may seem and be 
termed spiritual; which being granted, 
the difficulty is then easily dissolved. But 
to speak farther in answer to your objec- 
tion by reason, would but beget a tedious 


and unprofitable dispute ; since we cannot 
affirm any thing definitely, or otherwise 
than by guess, of things above us, and that 
it is in my power, as I said to you before, 
to shew you by lively and undeniable ex- 
perience that what you impugn is true ; 
which I the more freely offer unto you, 
because methought you said you had long 
in vain sought to satisfy yourself herein, 
but yet never could : therefore I will 
boldly do for you, whom I have reason to 
affect so much, what to another I would 
not acknowledge to be in my power ; so 
that do but tell me what you desire to be 
informed of, be it never so remote, or in 
what form you would have a spirit appear 
unto you, and your wish shall be undoubt- 
edly accomplished." "Your authority 
and credit," answered Theagenes, " weigh- 
eth as much with me to beget belief in 
me, as my senses can ; therefore I will now 
no longer question the possibility of these 


things ; with which credence I think it 
will be best for us both that I rest satisfied, 
since I conceive that such an experiment 
as you speak of, will require long time to 
perfect it, and many troublesome prepara- 
tions, and be dangerous in the effecting it, 
through the rebellious contumacy of the 
infernal spirits, which only I conceive to 
be at men's command, if any be." " If 
no other respect detain you," replied the 
Brachman, " these excuses shall not make 
me waive the satisfying your curiosity, for 
they weigh not at all with me. It is true 
that all those things which you mentioned, 
do happen when there is no ground laid 
beforehand for such an experiment ; but 
he is a weak man that will destroy that 
masterpiece which with much labour he 
hath brought to pass, when for the present 
he hath no more use of it, and so upon 
every occasion must begin that work 
wholly anew ; when after much patience, 


and by abstracting my thoughts from sen- 
sual objects, and raising my spirit up to 
that height that I could make right use of 
those powerful names which this art teach- 
eth, I got a real and obedient apparition 
as I desired ; then, by virtue of the same 
names, I bound the spirit that I had called 
into a hallowed book which I had pre- 
pared of purpose, and always carry about 
with me : and that I no sooner open and 
call him by his name, which is well known 
to me, but he presently obeyeth what- 
soever I command : and thus without any 
unlawful pact or wicked means, a man 
cometh to have him his slave and servant, 
who of his own nature is his chiefest 
enemy. Therefore now I have told you 
what I can do, there remaineth but that 
you express your will, and I will see it ful- 
filled." The horror of the thought to have 
any communication, though at never so 
great a distance, with infernal spirits, 


made Theagenes remain some time in sus- 
pense; but in the end, the seeing of the 
means so near him to satisfy his anxious 
mind in the particulars of what he yet but 
obscurely and generally understood, did so 
stir up and inflame his restless thoughts, 
beyond the learned curiosity of being in- 
formed of the truth herein, which the other 
did in a manner drown, it did so far ex- 
ceed it, that he now forgot all other re- 
spects, and addressed his speech in this 
manner to the Indian magician : " This 
last obligation, reverend Sir, in communi- 
cating with me the most recluse mysteries 
of your profound sciences, exceedeth my 
possibility of thanks ; but you may judge 
what a deep sense I have of it, since that 
alone shall draw from me the confession of 
what formerly your much urging me could 
not, and which nothing but my solitary 
pillow, continually wet with my abundant 
tears, or some sequestered desert place, 


have heard me tell : I mean the sad cause 
of my eternal sorrow, which, though I 
strived to disguise yet you straight ob- 
served. Lend then your ears to the short 
story of long and remediless grief: which 
thus beginneth. My malevolent stars, 
whom now by you instructed, I believe do 
rule men's fortunes and actions by their 
influence, engaged my affections to the 
fairest lady that ever displayed her golden 
tresses to the less beautiful sun. In her 
I lived, and she awhile in me, if with the 
magic of her enchanting looks she had not 
also sucked in the art of deep dissimula- 
tion and deceit. To her I vowed my virgin 
affections, and she hers to me ; which vows 
were renewed between us when I last left 
her, and with her the best part of my soul 
and all my joys; but since, ah! cursed 
change, I hear that she hath forgot her 
serious and religious protestations, and 
hath entertained into her false breast a 


new affection, with dishonourable and im- 
pure flames. It is but a wild and imperfect 
relation that hath yet come to me, but 
such as did at the instant almost strike me 
dead, and hath made me ever since hate 
my life. Now my desire is, since you do 
not confine it within any bounds, that I 
may be particularly informed of all pas- 
sages concerning her since I last saw her ; 
so that I may either from the truth, which 
yet may be disguised or overshadowed to 
me, draw some ground of comfort, at 
least of less sorrow, or else have a per- 
fecter knowledge of her unworthiness and 
my misery, since suspended and uncertain 
thoughts is the greatest anguish that can 
happen to the mind. This, then, is the 
cause of my sorrow, and the sum of what 
I desire." He had scarce drawn his sor- 
rowful relation to an end, which was in- 
terrupted with such deep sighs, as though 
his heart would have followed his words, 


when the Magician drew out of his bosom 
a little book enclosed in a leaden cover, 
and the leaves of it made of the thin and 
membraneous skins of unborn lambs, 
which were inscribed with various figures, 
and pentacles and sigils of sundry colours ; 
which opening, he said, " Now I will con- 
firm what I have spoken, and give you 
complete satisfaction in what you request, 
whereunto all circumstances are propitious; 
the day being clear and serene, the sun 
having got the victory of all the obscure 
clouds that this morning would have dark- 
ened his beams, and the place where we 
chance now to be in so opportune, that 
we cannot wish a better." With that, they 
alighted from their horses, and went some 


distance out of the path, among the trees 
that grew thick there, while all the way the 
Brachman kept his eyes fixed upon the 
magical characters of his, as he called it, 
sacred book, and murmured to himself 



words of a strange sound. But they had 
not gone far when Theagenes of a sudden 
stopped, and held the Priest that was 
going forwards, and pointed to him with 
his hand to that object that stayed his 
steps. It was a lady sitting upon a broken 
trunk of a dead and rotten tree, in a pen- 
sive posture, so that but part of her face 
was discovered to them, but the general 
composure of her limbs was so admirable, 
that Theagenes doubted whether it were a 
goddess or a human creature. Her ra- 
diant hair hung dishevelled upon her white 
shoulders, and together with them, was 
covered with a thin veil that from the 
crown of her head reached to the ground, 
through which they shined as the sun doth 
through a pale cloud, and sometimes with- 
out that eclipsing shade did send out direct 
and unbroken beams, and so doubled the 
day of beauty ; which was caused by a 
gentle air, that, as being jealous of that 


senseless veil, did blow it ever and anon 
away, and played with those bright hairs, 
adding new curled waves to those that 
nature made there. In her fair face one 
might discern lilies and roses admirably 
mixed ; but in her lips the rose alone did 
sit enthroned in sweet majesty ; her eyes, 
as being niggardly of casting away their 
heart-piercing beams, were hid by her 
modest lids, which so veiled love's treasure 
and theirs ; her swelling breast did expose 
to view of greedy eyes his naked and 
miraculous snow, where love, though he 
were frozen, would recover heat again; 
part of her swelling bosom appeared, but 
the greater part an envious vest did cover; 
her cheek reposed upon her alabaster 
hand, and her courteous sleeve discovered 
most part of her fair arm, which rested 
upon her knee, while she' with her sighs 
seemed to talk with her own thoughts. 
Whether she then wept or no h6 Could not 


well discern, but might perceive her cheeks 
moist with a precious dew, and the hairs 
of her eyelids bedecked with orient pearls, 
which seemed like the pleasing drops of a 
gentle summer shower while the sun 
shineth. He remained awhile as in a trance 
through astonishment at this unexpected 
and fair sight, till the Magician coming 
nearer to the melancholy lady, she, as 
though she had been diverted from the 
train of her meditations by the noise that 
he made in coming towards her, turning 
her head that way, rose suddenly up, and 
then Theagenes knew the face of his once 
beloved Stelliana, which seemed to be 
overclouded with grief, but so that sorrow 
there looked more lovely than joy could 
do in any other place. He then felt a 
strange conflict within himself between 
love and disdain, each of which by turns 
set their ensigns in his face as they had the 
better in his heart ; sometimes fire would 


sparkle in his eyes, and his enflamed looks 
give evident sign of the anger that boiled 
within him; but then straight a congealed 
paleness would witness his repentance for 
his former rash thoughts. But in the end 
the most humane passion got the victory, 
for certainly a true love can never turn to 
hate; and how could it be otherwise, but 
that his heart must yield when the power- 
ful object was in his presence, which could 
not banish love, though it were eclipsed 
with sorrow, in so long an absence, and 
having so seeming a just cause ? Not being 
able then any longer to contain himself, he 
ran towards her, and kneeling down, of- 
fered to take her snowy hand, and was be- 
ginning to speak, when a greater wonder 
drew him to silent admiration ; for when 
he thought he had taken her by the hand, 
he found that he grasped nothing but air, 
which discourteously fled from his em- 
braces ; as also three several times that he 


strived to take hold of the hem of her gar- 
ment, so many times he found himself de- 
ceived. But then the Brachman coming 
to him and raising him up, told him how 
this was nothing but a vision procured by 
his art, and that that spirit should answer 
him to whatsoever he demanded ; and that 
he chose this form to make him appear in, 
to the end that he might judge by the true 
resemblance of her countenance and pos- 
ture, the quality and temper of her mind ; 
which he said to have been really such 
ever since the news of his death, and that 
the greatness of her sorrow was the origin 
and cause of her misfortune and his afflic- 
tion. Theagenes then cried out, " I now 
believe that infernal spirits can transform 
themselves into the appearance of angels 
of light; and since you would take upon 
you the shape of such a one, you have 
done discreetly to choose hers that is the 
perfectest work that God hath created." 


Then he began to question the spirit con- 
cerning her whom he represented, and had 
a large relation of what you have already 
heard ; all which he as greedily listened 
unto, as the poor prisoner at the bar doth 
to an unexpected sentence of absolution 
that the judge favourably pronounceth in 
his cause ; for he evidently saw that she 
could not be accused of an unworthy 
mind, or of a depraved will, or of incon- 
stant affection ; but that it was the unjust- 
ness of fortune, or, at the worst, a little in- 
dulgency of a gentle nature which sprung 
from some indiscretion, or rather want of 
experience, that made her liable to cen- 
sure. After he had satisfied himself in 
every particular, and that he could be- 
think himself no more to ask, he felt his 
heart swell with a tender passion which 
even melted it, and made him as one 
drunk with joy, understanding that her 
soul was pure and her mind the same that 


he ever believed it to be. But strong af- 
fection being always accompanied with 
doubts and fears, the edge of his joy was 
taken off, when he considered who it was 
that gave him this relation ; but as he re- 
mained wavering in himself, irresolute 
which way his belief should sway, the 
spirit spoke thus again to him : " Although 
it be denied both to blessed angels and to 
us, to know the secrets of hearts and the 
simple meditations of the soul within itself; 
yet when the thoughts go beyond those 
bounds, and make anv of the interior 

7 * 

senses the seat of their agitation, then they 
are plain and manifest to us ; so that I 
now read in thy fantasy and know thy 
doubts and fears as well as thyself; and 
the little credit thou dost give to my 
words. It might satisfy thee to know that 
those powerful exorcisms that have bound 
me where I am, do also bind me to obedi- 
ence and truth ; but thou shalt have a 


more material testimony to witness for me 
that I know and speak truth, and that 
within a few days ; therefore, when thou 
shaltfind thyself in the midst of a troop of 
armed men, and having no other weapon 
but thy sword, shall wound most of them, 
and save thy own life by killing two, the 
principal of them : then remember that I 
have foretold thre of it, and believe what I 
have said of Stclliana's integrity, and that 
in despite of all oppositions and both 
your strongest resolutions, you two must 
be joined in one sacred knot; for none 
can change, though awhile they may strug- 
gle with fate/* And with that he sud- 
denly vanished out of their sight, the 
Brachman having formally licensed him, 
and shut his book, when he perceived by 
the silence of Theagenes that he had no 
more to ask. 

It was not long before the accomplish- 
ment of what this spirit prophesied, pur- 


chased in him a greater confidence in the 


rest that he had said : for after Theagenes 
had embarked himself to follow on his in- 
tended journey, a favourable wind in a 
short time brought him to Alexandria ; 
whither he sent a servant one day before 
him to provide him a convenient house 
near the Ambassador's, and other neces- 
saries ; and the next day came thither 
himself, and the first thing he did was to 
go kiss the hand of his kinsman Aristo- 
bulus, who received him with all the de- 
monstration of joy and honour that might 
be, and caused him to stay supper with 
him ; after which he sent his son Leodivius, 
with many of his servants and torches, to 
accompany him to his lodging, which was 
not far off. But the night had slided so 
insensibly away while they were in their 
pleasing conversation, it being the nature 
of long absence of dear friends to cause at 
their first encounter much greediness of 


enjoying each other, that when they came 
out of the house they found the streets 
quiet and no living creature stirring in 
them ; and the moon, which was then near 
the full, shining out a clear light upon 
them, so that the coolness and solitude 
was the greatest sign that it was not noon- 
day. Wherefore they caused the lights 
and other servants to stay there, who then 
could serve but for vain magnificence, and 
Theagenes sent his servants to his lodging 
before, while he, and Leodivius, and an- 
other gentleman, that Leodivius took with 
him to accompany him, that he might not 
return all alone to his father's house, came 
softly after, sucking in the fresh air, and 
pleasing themselves in the coolness of the 
night which succeeded a hot day, it being 
then in the beginning of the summer : but 
as they were entertaining themselves in 
some gentle discourse, a rare voice, accom- 
panied with a sweet instrument, called 


their ears to silent attention, while with 
their eyes they sought to inform them- 
selves where the person was that sung, 
when they saw a gentlewoman in a loose and 
night habit, that stood in an open window 
supported like a gallery with bars of iron, 
with a lute in her hand, which with excel- 
lent skill she made to keep time with her 
divine voice, and that issued out of as fair 
a body, by what they could judge at that 
light, only there seemed to sit so much 
sadness upon her beautiful face, that one 
might judge she herself took little pleasure 
in her own soul-ravishing harmony. The 
three spectators remained attentive to this 
fair sight and sweet music, Leodivius only 
knowing who she was, who coming a little 
nearer towards the window, fifteen men all 
armed, as the moon shining upon their 
bucklers and coats of mail did make evi- 
dent, rushed out upon him with much 
violence, and with their drawn swords 


made so many furious blows and thrusts 
at him, that if his better genius had not 
defended him it had been impossible that 
he could have outlived that minute ; but 
he, nothing at all dismayed, drew his sword, 
and struck the foremost of them such a 
blow upon the head, that if it had not been 
armed with a good cap of steel, certainly 
he should have received no more cumber 
from that man ; yet the weight of it was 
such that it made the Egyptian run reel- 
ing backwards two or three steps, and the 
blade, not able to sustain such a force, 
broke in many pieces, so that nothing but 
the hilts remained in Leodivius's hand ; 
who seeing himself thus disarmed, sud- 
denly recollected his spirits, and using 
short discourse within himself, resolved, as 
being his best, to run to his father's house 


to call for assistance to bring off in safety 
his kinsman and his other friend, whose 
false sword served him in the same manner 


as Leodivius's had done, as though they 
had conspired to betray their masters in 
their greatest need. Here one might see 
differing effects from like causes, for a like 
resolute valour without astonishment that 
caused Leodivius to run discreetly away 
for succour, caused him to stand still in 
the place where his sword broke, defend- 
ing his enemies' blows with the piece that 
remained in his hand, as being ashamed to 
leave Theagenes in the midst of so many 
that strived to take his life from him : but 
he was soon out of danger by all their 
pressing beyond him, whom they saw dis- 
armed, to come to Theagenes, who had 
interposed himself between Leodivius and 
them that followed him, of which the mas- 
ter of all these bravos was one, so that the 
rest seeing him engaged in a fierce battle, 
they all came to assist him. Theagenes 
then found himself in great perplexity, for 
having retired to a narrow place of the 


street, that he might keep his assailants all 
in front before him, the overhanging pen- 
tises took away the light of the moon, and 
his enemies having at the top of their 
bucklers artificial lanterns whose light was 
cast only forwards by their being made 
with an iron plate on that side towards the 
holders, so that their bodies remained in 
darkness, had not only the advantage of 
seeing him when he could not see them, 
but also dazzled and offended his eyes 
with the many near lights, which made him 
mistake those objects that dimly he dis- 
cerned. The number of his enemies, and 
the disparity of the weapons, might have 
given him just cause to seek the saving of 
his life rather by the swiftness of his legs 
than by an obstinate defence ; but he, that 
did not value it at so high a rate as to 
think that it could warrant such an action, 
resolved rather to die in the midst of his 
enemies, than to do any thing that might 


be interpreted to proceed from fear : with 
which resolution he made good the place 
he stood in, and whensoever any of them 
were too bold in coming near him, he en- 


tertained them with such rude welcomes, 
that they had little encouragement to 
make a second return. 

After Theagenes had remained some time 
thus beating down their swords and wound- 
ing many of them, and shewing wonderful 
effects of a settled and not transported va- 
lour, and that their beginning to slack their 
fury in pressing upon him gave a little free- 
dom to his thoughts, all his spirits being 
before united in his heart and hands, he 
considered how it must certainly be some 
mistake that made him to be thus treated 
by men that he knew not, and to whom he 
was sure he in his particular could have 
given no offence, being but that day ar- 
rived at Alexandria from very remote 
parts ; wherefore he spoke to them in the 


best manner he could, to make himself un- 
derstood in a tongue that he was not well 
master of, and asked what moved them to 
use him so discourteously that was a 
stranger there, and was not guilty of hav- 
ing injured any of them ; to which words 
of his, one that seemed to be of the best 
quality among them, by a cassock em- 
broidered with gold which he wore over 
his jack of mail, answered him with much 
fury in this manner. " Villain, thou liest, 
thou hast done rne wrong which cannot be 
satisfied with less than thy life ; and by 
thy example let the rest of thy lascivious 
countrymen learn to shun those gentle- 
women where other men have interest, as 
they would do houses infected with the 
plague, or the thunder that executeth 
God's vengeance/' These words put all 
patience out of Theagenes's breast, so 
that now he dispensed his blows rather 
with fury than art ; but his hand was so 



exercised in the perfectest rules of true art, 
that without his endeavours or taking no- 
tice, it never failed of making exactly re- 
gulated motions, which had such force im- 
parted to them by a just anger, that few of 
them were made in vain. But at length 
his enemies, that had bought with much 
of their blood the knowledge of his power 
and strength, attempted to do that behind 
him, which they durst not to his face ; for 
some of them running down a little lane 
that was near the place where they fought, 
made a circuit and came to assault Thea- 
genes behind, which he perceived by a 
blow upon his shoulders : but it seemed 
that the fearful giver of it was so appre- 
hensive lest Theagenes should turn about, 
that his quaking hand laid it on so softly 
that it did him no hurt, but served to warn 
him of the danger he was in. He then 
perceiving himself thus beset on every 
side, summoned all his spirits to serve him 


at this his so great necessity, and choosing 
to cut his way through the thickest of 
them, that so it might appear that he 
wrought his own liberty in despite of their 
strongest oppositions, did make a quick 
thrust at him that was nearest before him, 
which entering within his weapons before 
he was aware that he had occasion to 
ward it, Theagenes accompanied it with 
the whole weight of his body, running on 
so violently, as the other's jack not giving 
way, and his sword not yielding, he bore 
him down, and running over him made 
him serve for a bridge to cross the ken- 
nel. He being thus acquit of their be- 
sieging him, began to retire himself with 
a settled pace towards the Ambassador's 
house, but in such a manner, that though 
his feet carried him one way his face 
looked another, and his hands sent for- 
wards many bloody messages of his angry 
spirit; but one of them pressed so eagerly 

M 2 


and unwarily upon him, that as he lifted 
up his sword to make a blowatTheagenes, 
he avoided it with a gentle motion of his 
body, and gave him such a strong reverse 
upon the head, that finding it disarmed, 
for he had lost his iron cap with much stir- 
ring in the scuffle, it divided it in two parts, 
and his brains flew into his neighbour's 
face ; upon whom Theagenes turned, 
having thus rid himself of his fiercest 
enemy, and stepping in with his left leg, 
made himself master of his sword, and 
with his own did run him into the belly 
under his jack, so that he fell down, wit- 
nessing with a deep groan that his life was 
at her last minute. The other Egyptians 
by that knew him to be their master, for 
whose quarrel only they all fought, so that 
they left Theagenes, and all of them at- 
tended to succour their wounded lord ; 
but all too late, for without ever speaking, 
he gave up his ghost in their arms : while 


by this means Theagenes, who received 
but little hurt, had time to walk leisurely 
to the Ambassador's house, from whence, 
upon the alarm that Leodivius gave, many 
were coming to his rescue with such arms 
as, hastily, they could recover ; the cause 
of whose "coming so late, for he met 
them half way, was, that it was long 
before Leodivius, though he knocked and 
called aloud, could get the gates open ; 
for all in the house were gone to take their 

The next day the cause of this quarrel 
was known ; which was, that a nobleman 
of that country, having interest in a gentle- 
woman that lived not far from Aristobulus's 
house, was jealous of Leodivius, who had 
carried his affections too publicly ; so that 
this night he had forced her to sing in the 
window where Leodivius saw her, hoping 
by that means to entice him to come near 


to her, while he lay in ambush, as you have 
heard, to take his life from him. 

This action made the name of Theagenes 
known not only in Egypt, but in Morea; 
whither it was daily carried and related 
by sundry mouths, who were filled with 
many other high commendations added to 
the fame of his valour ; so that it was not 
long before Stelliana had news that Thea- 
genes was not dead ; who, if before she 
lamented the loss of him, had now as much 
reason to renew the lamentations of her 
own misfortunes, which, she feared, would 
make her eternally to lose him, though his 
other friends had found him again ; and 
thus, in the midst of all their joy, she alone 
remained in clouds of sorrow. 

But before I engage my pen in con- 
tinuing the sad story of her griefs, it will 
not be amiss that I set down how it came 
to. pass that there was then such frequent 


intercourse between Morea and Egypt, 
that all things done in Alexandria came 
to be so suddenly known at Corinth. 

Aristobulus having, through his wise and 
prudent negotiation, concluded the mar- 
riage between the King of Morea's son, 
and the King of Egypt's sister, had wrought 
into the treaty thereof conditions of so 
much advantage for his side, that Hephres- 
tion, who was the old King's favourite, 
doubted that if he alone had the honour of 
it, he should gain thereby so much strength 
that he might in time be able to contest in 
greatness with him, who had ever a jealous 
eye of his rising, and did himself subsist 
only by his master's favour ; wherefore, 
perceiving now that any delay would make 
it too late to prevent these fears, he re- 
solved to make use of the King's affection 
towards him, and taking that business out 
of the hands of Aristobulus, that he had so 
much laboured in with happy success, to 


attribute to himself the honour of effecting 
it: whereupon he procured for himself an 
extraordinary commission of embassage, 
with full power to do what he thought fit 
in this treaty, which, to colour his actions, 
he pretended to be full of difficulties ; and 
to strengthen his proceedings, and to have 
a favourable witness of what he should do, 

he carried the Prince with him 

into Egypt, wh he loved him 

much, if not more than his father, where, 
after a laborious and dangerous journey, 
they arrived safe the day after Theagenes's 
fight: which possessing all men with won- 
der, and he finding many friends that came 
to attend the Prince, they did both write 
the relation of it, and many that were daily 
sent with advertisements from his son to 
the old King, did carry the news of it to 
Corinth, where Stelliana, sequestering her- 
self from all company, did spend her sad 
days and widow nights in continual weep- 


ing ; for when she looked upon her own 
actions, she had just cause to fear that 
Theagenes's affection was withdrawn from 
her; and when she considered his, from 
whom in so long time as she had been 
absent, she had never received any letter, 
she fully believed it : so that the conti- 
nuance of sorrow brought her, at length, to 
this pass, that she seemed to be neither 
desirous nor capable of comfort ; and all 
things were indifferent to her almost broken 
heart, only Mardontius she did hate with 
as much bitterness as so sweet a soul could 
entertain, as being the cause of all her 
misfortunes ; who, being inflamed by her 
disdains, did now again renew his suit to 
her with more violence than ever he had 
done before, and cursed himself for throw- 
ing away, like a prodigal wretch, the jewel 
which he would now sell himself to buy ; 
giving clear testimony how love in a weak 
soul, like a river that wanteth banks to 


keep it in, languisheth when it meeteth 
with no impediments. 

In the mean time the Prince being at 
Alexandria, the Egyptian counsellors, for 
to them only the ungentle using of the 
Prince was to be attributed, the King 
being very young, were so little sensible of 
the great obligation that his Highness did 
put upon them by trusting his person with 
great confidence to them, that they sought 
to make advantage of his being there, and 
to draw him to new and harder conditions, 
especially in matters of religion, than be- 
fore were agreed upon. Whereupon He- 
phaestion taxed Aristobulusfor having given 
undue advertisements in his letters home, 
making the matter better than, in effect, 
he found it to be : but Aristobulus shewed 
to the Prince and him the original writings 
signed by the King and his council before 
their coming ; so that he attributed these 
new difficulties only. to Hephsestion's pre- 


cipitate journey and his rash bringing the 
Prince along with him ; which difference 
of theirs, finding their affections much 
alienated before, did, at length, break out 
into an open enmity, which was the cause 
of overthrowing so great a business, that, 
by effecting it, would have brought notable 
blessings to both the crowns, and by the 
miscarrying hath since caused great mise- 
ries to them both. For Hephaestion, re- 
lying upon his two masters' favours, and 
making use of the strength of his com- 
mission, excluded Aristobulus totally from 
any part in his negociations, and when- 
soever he offered, though with never so 
much humility, any counsel unto the Prince, 
he would oppose it, and do contrary to it, 
only for the giver's sake. Yet Aristobulus 
was so affectionate to his Lord's service, 
that these and many other unworthy af- 
fronts moved him to no passion ; but since 
his advice delivered in public did hurt 


rather than good, he desisted from that, 
and laboured, by secret ways, to advance 
his master's ends, although he was sure that 
no honour or thanks could redound from 
thence unto himself, knowing that good 
actions reward themselves in the very 
doing, and that virtue ought to be loved 
only for herself, and not for any other 
respect. In particular, he laboured much 
with the Mufti of the Egyptians, who is the 
chief man in ecclesiastical affairs, to facili- 
tate the new difficulties, to whom he em- 
ployed Theagenes for the most part, having 
learned by long experience that an accept- 
able messenger doth much advance any 
business ; for he understood that he was 
very welcome to the Mufti both for the 
strait friendship that he had with some 
of his nearest kinsmen in Ionia, of whence 
he was, and received letters from them by 
Theagenes, but, principally, because their 
religion was the same, which was but rare, 


and therefore by him the more esteemed, 
among the Moreans. One time, among the 
rest, when Theagenes came from thence, 
and related how he had behaved himself in 
what he went about, Aristobulus applaud- 
ing much the well carriage of it, and re- 
joicing in the happy success, addressed 
these words unto him. " It is a very great 
comfort to me, my much loved cousin, to 
see that I have a kinsman, to whom I am 
tied with so many bonds of affection and 
respect as I am to you, that God and na- 
ture have been so liberal unto us to confer 
upon him such excellent abilities of the 
mind as they have upon you ; so that I do 
not know wherein any man may justly say 
that you are short. I will only accuse for- 
tune that hath given you your education 
in a religion that is contrary to what now 
reigneth in Peloponnesus; which little re- 
gion, to us that are born there, and have 
our acquaintance, friends, and estates there, 


is of larger extent and of more weight than 
all the world besides. I have ever been an 
enemy to use persuasions in matters of 
faith, or to seek by argument to bring any 
one to the belief of mine; since that in 
this matter where reason falleth so far 
short, it is easier to raise scruples than to 
quiet them, like those unskilful conjurors 
that cannot lay the rebellious spirits that 
they have called : but if my prayers to 
God may take effect, I hope we shall not 
be long in different opinions ; knowing 
how much to your advantage it would be 
for you to conform yourself to these times, 
in which I do not think that any man is 
likely to go beyond you in having honour- 
able and great employments from your 
Prince, whereby you may win yourself 
much honour, and illustrate our whole fa- 
mily, if that only consideration do not 
prove an impediment/' Whereunto Thea- 
genes replied in this manner : " My own 


imperfections, much honoured Lord, are so 
apparent to me who am daily conversant 
with them, that although I dare not admit 
the least thought of taxing your judgment, 
yet I find that you look upon me through 
the glass of affection, which maketh all 
things in me that are of the colour of good- 
ness to appear much greater and fairer 
than, in reality, they are ; but my aim shall 
be to raise up myself to that image and 
idea you have conceived of me, and so 
make myself the worthier of that good will 
which you are pleased to bear me, and 
hath, on my side, yet no other tie but a 
deep and affectionate reverence to your 
goodness and worth. But, in particular, 
whereas you intimate that I should be 
framed in such a mould as that I may be 
fit for the service of my King and affairs 
of state, I must confess ingenuously, that I 
find in myself no inclination at all that 
way ; and, indeed, my education hath been 


very contrary thereunto, for hitherto 1 
have conversed the most part of ray time 
with the gentler Muses, or, at the least, 
grounded my chief delight in them, who 
are enemies to the troubles and disquiets 
that accompany an active life : yet withal, 
I will never be so ungrateful to God that 
gave me a soul, and to the world in which 
I live, as though I were born only to myself, 
that I will refuse any offered means of doing 
service to God, the King, or my Countr} T ; 
but, certainly, I will never lose the happy 
rest that I may enjoy by anxious seeking 
those occasions, which, when I have met 
withal, I may peradventure be un6t for. 
I conceive the surest way is to leave the 
disposing of one's course of life to the 
Divine Providence, and for the rest, to 
bear an even mind and a quiet soul, which 
will, and only can make one happy in any 
fortune or vocation. But for what you 
speak concerning religion, I shall say as 


you did, that I wish we may not be long in 
different opinions ; but I mean, by your 
embracing of mine, not I of yours ; and to 
the end that you may judge whether I do 
it with reason or no, I will deliver to you 
in general the qualities of mine; and I am 
confident that neither you nor any rational 
man will then condemn them. The first 
and principal consideration, and of the 
most importance, I conceive to be, that all 
honour and glory be given to that general 
and omnipotent Cause of causes whom all 
nations adore ; wherein we are not likely 
to err if we look but into our owri hearts, 
which are the temples he delighteth most 
in, and then worship that Author of nature 
according as we find written there ; and 
whosoever doth thus, though they fall short 
in the knowledge of all other mysteries, I 
cannot but judge charitably that God's 
mercies will supply for their other defects 
of ignorance. In the next place, I conceive 


it an indispensable obligation that all they 
who are born in this part of the world, do 
receive the first spiritual press-money that 
he hath ordained, under whose standard 
we are to fight : and then, that they be- 
lieve the general and continually received 
tenets that, without dispute, all men do 
agree upon, and were impiety to doubt of. 
Then, besides spiritual ones, many temporal 
reasons tell me, that it is necessary the go- 
vernment of the church should be mo- 
narchical, and the authority of it unde- 
niable, although I will not stretch this 
with such rigour, but that they, who have 
ability to judge, may by themselves exa- 
mine things without peril of damnation ; 
but, withal, I think it fit that it should 
contain itself within its own limits, and 
not put forth a proud hand to grasp tem- 
poral government, or to control and depose 
kings, whose persons are sacred by being 
God's anointed, and are only liable to his 


immediate correction, unless peradventure 
it be in such commonwealths where the 
people have an interest, and receive their 
Prince conditionally ; and, therefore, cer- 
tainly no power on earth can absolve 
subjects from their due and natural obe- 
dience to them. Lastly, for other lesser 
points, I conceive the safest way is to put 
off all passion, and reining one's will with 
all humility to the Creator of all things, 
and begging the light of grace and of true 
faith from him, to believe that which one is 
educated in, and not to think the worse of 
another that is of different opinions, for no 
man would be so malicious against him- 
self, as in so important a business to do 
against what his understanding and con- 
science do dictate to him ; and, for my 
part, I am so free from partiality that I 
will confess plainly, I doubt many errors 
have crept in among us, principally by 
two causes; the one in that when many 


barbarous nations did overrun the parts 
where the true faith was professed, and 
that they plucked up learning, as it were, 
by the roots ; in the next age, in the infancy 
of the recovery of it, some men, with an 
ignorant and unlearned zeal, taught some 
such erroneous doctrine, as since the best 
wits and greatest scholars do strive to de- 
fend, out of reverence to antiquity : and 
the other, in that now of late since the 
separation of the churches, there hath been 
so much way given to the bitterness of 
passion, and the spirit of contradiction 
hath prevailed so much, that some of the 
most learned men have stretched some 
tenets beyond what, I think, themselves 
believed. And I doubt not but this inge- 
nuous confession of mine, will draw from 
you a like acknowledgment of many errors 
on your side, sprung from like causes. 
Then to conclude my speech with an an- 
swer to the last part of yours, I shall think 


I have done very well if I can bring myself 
upon even terms with the world, consider- 
ing the misfortunes that have accompanied 
me from my very cradle; and with the 
rest of our family shall and do rejoice, 
that you, by your virtuous and heroic 
actions, have added unto it much honour 
and splendour/' 

Thus Aristobulus and Theagenes spent 
some time in discourses of this nature, the 
conclusion of which was, that Aristobulus 
persuaded his kinsman to apply himself 
industriously to the service of the Prince, 
of whom he gave this character. "That he 
loved and practised justice in the highest 
degree ; was free from passions, and mode- 
rate and temperate in all his desires ; of a 
quick apprehension and solid judgment* 
accompanied with much modesty ; very 
pious and devout, and capable of counsel 
in all occasions that occurred to him ; and 
very constant in his resolutions when, after 


mature deliberation, he had proposed to 
himself what course to take; and, in fine, 
was of such an excellent mixture, that it 
was not to be doubted but he would be a 
glorious Prince, if the goodness of his na- 
ture did not incline him to be won upon, 
through affection, by bad counsellors." 
Which testimony given of him by one that 
knew him from his infancy, and the daily 
seeing him do all princely exercises with 
singular grace, and his affableness and 
benignity to all men, made Theagenes in 
a short time not only dedicate his ordinary 
attendance to him, but also his heart and 
all the faculties of his soul : so that he did 
set himself forward in the noblest manner 
that he could, and was inferior to none in 
magnificent expenses, whereby he might 
make the Prince take notice how desirous 
he was to do him honour there, and to 
gain his favour ; and for his diligence 
about his person he soon got the style of a 


careful servant. But all the glories of the 
court, and the beauty of the ladies there, 
which shined continually like so many 
stars, could not make him forget, or sweeten 
his quarrel to womankind in general, for 
Stelliana's sake : which gave occasion to 
the Earl of Arcadia, who was Captain of 
the King of Morea's guard, and a complete 
courtier, and noted for applying himself 
very affectionately to the service of ladies, 
to speak thus one day to him, their fami- 
liarity warranting any thing that either of 
them said to the other. 

" When I look upon you, Theagenes, me- 
thinks I see enough that telleth me your 
abilities might win you the affection of 
any lady ; but when I consider how you 
daily pass by the fairest faces without 
seeming to have any sense of the divine 
beams of beauty that shine there, I begin 
to doubt that the fault proceedeth from 
your mind, which, I understand, hath been 


trained up continually in scholastical spe- 
culations, and hath always conversed with 
books at such times as you have not exer- 
cised your body in the use of arms and 
managing of horses, and such other disci- 
plines as become a gentleman and a soldier; 
so that I see there may be excess in the 
best and most commendable things, for 
these, that in a moderation may be es- 
teemed chief ornaments, do beget either a 
dull stupidity or a rude barbarousness in 
those that adore them too affectionately ; 
and I doubt much that from one of these 
two causes doth proceed your having no 
mistress here, where so much beauty reign- 
eth : but I shall fail much of my aim, if, 
before we go from hence, I do not wean 
you from your learned modesty, or civilize 
your martial wildness ; one of which cer- 
tainly it is that maketh your heart so 
rebellious against the power of fair eyes." 
Which when he had said, accompanying 


his words with smiles, Theagenes answered 
him in this manner : " You should not cen- 
sure me before you are certain that I have 
no mistress, and feel not in my breast the 
heat of love's flames ; which you cannot 
collect from my concealing them, since 
you may have a familiar example in the 
deepest waters, whose streams slide away 
with least noise ; but, if it were so, I should 
confess that I owe this blessing to the sacred 
Muses, which proceedeth then neither from 
dulness nor want of confidence, as you 
seem to intimate, but rather it is the soul- 
ravishing delight which they feed them 
withal that retire themselves into their 
sanctuary, that makcth them despise other 
pleasures as being much below them. But 
because you shall not think that I make 
use of this for an excuse, I will do as the 
famous Syracusan mathematician did, who 
was long before he could be drawn to let 
down his knowledge, which soared high in 


spiritual speculations abstracted from gross 
matter, and in subtle demonstrations, so 
low as to employ it in making mechanical 
instruments, but when he did make use of 
his knowledge in geometry that way, he 
effected with the greatest ease that might 
be, and as it were playing, such admirable 
things as seemed miracles to the ignorant 
vulgar, who judge by their senses without 
going any farther ; and yet he despised all 
those conclusions so much, that he would 
not leave one word of mention of them to 
posterity. In like manner, to reduce you 
out of your error, I will, for a while, make 
truce with higher contemplations, and let 
down my judgment to make love to a 
mistress; in which I dare, beforehand, pro- 
mise myself such success, that, for the fu- 
ture, you shall have no cause to pity any 
servant of the Muses for learned modesty ; 
and, because I "will leave you no colour for 
new exceptions, I will apply myself to the 


service of that great and fair lady for whom 
you continually sigh, because you receive 
from her so small encouragement to con- 
tinue that hitherto unlucky affection of 
yours ; and am so confident of the favour 
that my learned patronesses may procure 
me, it being their custom to insinuate 
themselves with secret sweetness into the 
most rebellious minds, and to tame the 
hardest hearts, as I am nothing at all de- 
terred with the consideration that she is 
the greatest lady of Egypt, and the richest, 
and of the noblest family, and in highest 
favour with the Queen ; and, hitherto, an 
enemy to all intimations of love. But, 
because my conquest may be the more 
glorious by having a worthy rival, I will 
engage you to continue your suit, lest when 
you see me to have got the start of you, 
you may give over your course, pretending 
the change of your affection, when, indeed, 
it is the barrenness of your hopes : there^ 


fore name what wager you will venture 
upon the success of our loves, which the 
most fortunate man therein shall win, and 
the Prince shall be our judge/' This over- 
ture, made by Theagenes with some earnest- 
ness, pleased the Earl very well, who ordered 
the quality of the wager should be at the 
loser's discretion ; he being confident to 
have the advantage in his suit, since his 
passion was real, and the other's but 
feigned ; besides that, in every respect for 
the mysteries of the court and of winning 
ladies' affections, wherein he had long ex- 
perience with ha'ppy success, he preferred 
himself much before Theagenes, who was 
yet scarce entered into his apprentissage 
there. But what cannot continual industry 
bring to pass? and especially with women, 
whose hearts, for the most part, to those 
that can take the true height of them, are 
made of gentle and yielding substance? 
Certainly it supplieth for all defects, even 


the want of love, as was evident in The- 
agenes's suit ; whose personated affection 
won such a real one from Mauricana, that 
she lived only in him : and this she ex- 
pressed in such a public manner, that the 
Earl, who had never seen towards himself 
from her other than the effects of a dis- 
dainful mistress, could not choose but 
acknowledge it, and giving over his fruit- 
less labour, yielded the loss of his wager to 
Theagenes ; who, till then, never omitted 
any occasion of endearing himself into the 
affection of his princely lady. For when- 
soever she went abroad, he was the next to 
attend her chair ; if she went to any place 
of devotion, he went too, but behaved 
himself so there as if she were the only 
saint that he came in pilgrimage unto ; if 
she were a spectator to any public enter- 
tainment, as of tilting or the like, he would 
there make himself known for her servant 
by wearing the livery of her colours, and 


clothing his servants correspondency ; and 
at any comedy or masque at the court 
where she was present, he would teach his 
eyes in their dumb language to beg her 
favours so effectually, that many times in 
public conferring them upon him, she did 
exceed that reserved ness which is practised 
among the ladies of those parts ; so that 
she was not a little censured by many that 
knew no more of her but by the outward 
face of her actions. And the fame of 
Theagenes's dearness with this so great 
lady, the first of the bedchamber to the 
Queen, and of a vast wealth, was soon 
dispersed through all Morea ; where, with 
his friends, it wrought different effects: for 
it added to Stelliana's deep sorrow, who, 
though she neither hoped nor desired any- 
thing for herself, so broken was her heart, 
yet she felt a kind of repining that another 
should enjoy that place which was once 
her's, and that her misfortunes had made 


her lose ; and others of his friends, whose 
affection was accompanied with fondness, 
were grieved in the midst of their joy for 
his good hap, doubting that the advantages 
which she would bring him, if he married 
her, would cause him to settle himself with 
her in that country, whereby they should 
lose him. But the discrcetest of those 
that loved him, not only rejoiced at his 
fortune, but advised him and daily solicited 
him to delay no time in effecting what 
they understood she much desired, which 
was to marry her; but if they had known 
how opposite the motions of his heart 
were to his exterior demonstrations, and 
what was the ground of them, they would 
never have lost time about this fruitless 

In the mean season great differences 
arose between the Egyptian King and the 
Prince of Morea, and their ministers; of 
all which . . . . the vices of 


phajstion were the originary causes ; for he 
having excluded Aristobulus from the ma- 


naging of affairs, would have them carried 
and concluded only between the Egyptian 
favourite and himself: but it soon appeared 
how unequally they were matched, for the 
one having been always trained up in a 
constant way of state businesses, and He- 
phaestion having never attended to other 
than courtly exercises, and to give himself 
delight, and to so much of business as con- 
cerned the satisfying of his will or avarice, 
was soon overreached by the Egyptian, 
and reduced into such disadvantageous 
straits, that he could not recover himself 
out of them but by falling out with him ; 
and this, added to some other vices of his, 

by the immodest and insatiable 

love of women, wherein he strived to sa- 
tisfy himself without respect to fame, that 
it imported him to conceal his affections 
from, made him grow to be much hated 


and scorned in that court ; which he per- 
ceiving, and having received some bitter 
affront in matter of his mistresses, he grew 
into a rancorous detestation of the causers 
of them, and resolved to set up his rest 
upon the overthrowing those treaties, and 
breaking the peace between those crowns ; 
foreseeing that otherwise he could not avoid 
his own ruin. 

Whereupon he wrought so much with 
the Prince, that he gave his consent to 
return hastily into Morea, wherein he 
shewed that his affection to his friend pre- 
vailed above his own judgment, and above 
his love to his mistress, for he sticked not 
to express to some that were about him 
that he saw no other reason for his sudden 
departure, more than Hephaestion's earnest 
solicitation ; and that he discerned so 
much sweetness, and so many perfections, 
accompanied with excellent beauty, in the 
King's sister, that he conceived no lady in 



the world so worthy of his affections as 
she was. But the other respect prevailed 
above all these ; so noble a testimony he 
gave of a Prince's constancy in his friend- 
ship ; for many conceived that he loved 
Hepha3stion only because he had once 
chosen to love him, and not because he 
still judged that he deserved it. Among 
the rest that provided to attend the Prince 
in his return, Theagenes was one; which 
was no sooner known by Mauricana but 
she sent for him, and there used all the 
powerful means to divert this his intention 
that an entreating beauty is mistress of; 
sometimes endearing her own extreme 
affection to him, which she would raise in 
value by recounting the scornful disdains 
wherewith she had paid great Princes* 
loves ; then by taxing him with falsehood 
and treachery, in inveigling away her heart 
to make it serve only for a trophy of his 
inhuman cruelty ; then by representing the 


advantages which his match with her would 
bring him ; but most of all she relied upon 
the force of her fair eyes and charming 
looks : but when she saw that nothing 
would prevail for the obtaining of the main 
of her desire, she sought at least to win 
time for the present, hoping that when the 
Prince was gone, she might the more easily 
work his heart to her desires, and therefore 
only sued to him to stay while the stormy 
season made it unsafe to pass the seas ; 
that in that while she might, by little and 
little, teach her soul how to bear her future 
misery, and not be plunged into it unkindly 
all at once. But Theagenes, whose very 
bowels were then even torn in pieces be- 
tween a sad constancy and tender pity, 
strived all he could to sweeten her passions, 
and to excuse the expression of his affec- 
tions, which he said that he perceived she 
mistook, for that he never made approaches 
otherwise than in a courtly manner, as de- 

o 2 


siring to be called her knight, which title 
he would still maintain by all the real 
service that it might challenge from him, 
and should attend mindful with singular 
delight of the great favour she had done 
him ; but that his affections had once been, 
though unfortunately, engaged elsewhere 
with too great force, to place them upon 
any other object; and that, for the present, 
he was obliged to attend the Prince his 
master, into whose service, in an honour- 
able place, he was now received. But all 
that he could say availed no more to the 
cure of her mind, than the speeches of 
ignorant standers-by do, to bring health to 
one that lieth burning in a violent fever ; 
so that, when he left her, she remained 
wedded to sorrow and despair ; and not 
long after, seeing she could not have him 
whom only she thought worthy of her, she 
left the world, that afforded to her but a 
constant succession of continual torments, 


and consecrated the rest of her days to a 
worthier spouse, among other vestal virgins 
of noble quality. 

The winds and seas seemed to rejoice in 
the Prince's return, and to delight in the 
glorious navy that was committed to 
them ; for they all conspired to make him 
have a fair passage ; who, disembarking 
in the first port that he could fetch, took 
post horses, that with the greater speed he 
might give his father the content of seeing 
him ; who was at Corinth, longing to hear 
good news of him, which he himself was 
the first messenger of. Upon his arrival 
there, that city made all the affectionate 
demonstrations of a hearty and unfeigned 
joy that could be imagined, for the safe 
return of their much loved and most hope- 
ful lord, whom they feared was in a place 
of much danger, and with a king in vvhose 
faith the people had little confidence, and 
the like did the country throughout ; so 


that it was apparent that no Prince could 
be dearer to his subjects than he was, and 
therefore had all his enemies, if his good- 
ness could admit of any, much reason to 
fear when they saw so firm a knot and 
union between the commander and the 
obeyers. But Theagenes could not be a 
witness of the joyful acclamations that ac- 
companied his master to the court ; for he 
had no sooner set his feet upon the shore, 
but that a great indisposition took him, 
which hindered his journey thither, and 
the attendance on his lord for some days. 
In the mean time Hephaestion knowing, 
that the vulgar sort of the kingdom were 
disaffected to the alliance with Egypt, 
and that there could be no better way to 
break that treaty than to make them 
judges of it, who would be as partial 
hearers as he could be a relater, he pre- 
vailed so much with the King, that he 
made a general convocation of the three 


estates of the kingdom, consisting of the 
clergy, the nobility, and some chosen per- 
sons to represent the body of the com- 
mons, to give their advice in this weighty 
affair ; which he opened to them, making 
a narration from the beginning to that 
present, how all matters stood between the 
King of Egypt and his master, wherein he 
mingled many falsities with truths, and 
wrested the appearances of many things 
to a false sense ; so that the assembly was 
so inflamed with fury against that king, 
and possessed with belief that there was no 
faith in his proceedings, that they unani- 
mously besought the King of Morea to 
break off all treaties with that perfidious 
nation, as they termed it, and denounce 
them war ; promising their real assistance 
as well in serving all of them in person, if 
need were, as in making larger contribu- 
tions than could be paralleled by any ex- 
ample of subjects to their King ; whereof 


they immediately made a liberal begin- 
ning, in hope that their entreaties would 
prove effectual. The old King then, whose 
declining age made him now desire to live 
in quiet, resigned over all business to his 
son, and to the conduct of Hephaestion, 
who presently set it in such a way as 
might win him applause at home, though 
at the cost of his master's honour abroad ; 
and caused Aristobulus to be sent for out 
of Egypt, whom in his public relation he 
had laden with many false accusations, 
as well to satisfy the bitterness of his 
malice against him, as to provide for his 
own safety, since it was necessary for him 
to make the appearance of the fault and 
betraying the state, which he pretended, 
to light upon somebody ; and the whole 
negotiation had been carried between 
Aristobulus and himself. Through desire 
then to do good offices for his kinsman, 
that he had so much reason to respect, 


and to clear, as much as in him lay,4iis 
honour, that was much traduced in most 
men's opinions, Theagenes made more 
haste to Corinth than his indisposition 
would well give way unto : and the day 
that he arrived there, the sun, that was 
then taking his leave of the northern signs 
to go his progress to his farthest south- 
ward declination, shined out more com- 
fortable and glorious beams than it had 
done of many days before; which was the 
reason that many persons of quality came 
out in their coaches into the fields to 
refresh their spirits, with sucking in the 
free and warmed air. Among whom Stel- 
liana was one, whose sight surprised and 
astonished Theagenes, like one come sud- 
denly from a dark prison to too great a 
light, who met her directing of her course 
abroad, even as he was entering in at the 
gates of the city. After so long absence 
her beauty seemed brighter to him than 


when he left her : but she sate so pensively 
in one side of the coach by herself, as 
Apelles might have taken her counterfeit 
to express Venus sorrowing for her beloved 
Adonis : yet howsoever by her habits and 
her sadness, her brighter beams might seem 
to be in part eclipsed, they did neverthe- 
less disperse themselves so forcibly abroad, 
that the sun seemed to grow pale at her 
appearance, as being dazzled with a 
greater light than his own, and wept so 
bitter a shower to see that an earthly face 
had the victory of his, which now for 
shame he hid behind a cloud, that she was 
constrained to return back, while her 
coach, that was honoured with carrying 
her, might be esteemed much nobler than 
that studded with carbuncles, and hya- 
cinths, which Aurora sitteth in, when from 
her beautiful tresses she shaketh upon the 
earth the delightful morning dews that she 
hath gathered in the moist ocean. 


Theagenes was no sooner alighted at his 
lodging, hut that he sent a servant to find 
out Stelliana's, and to receive her leave 
that he might come the next day to visit 
her, whither he went at the appointed 
time, with resolution only to please him- 
self in so fair a sight, deeming her unwor- 
thy of his more serious affection, whom he 
conceived had so soon forgot her vows 
made to him at his going out of Morea. 
But surely, he did unjustly in censuring 
her before he heard her defence from her 
own mouth ; and in her presence he had 
cause to fear that by so great a light it 
might succeed to him as to the indiscreet 
fly, that through his own fondness, burneth 
his wings by playing with the flame. 

It is too great for me to describe the mo- 
tions of their hearts and souls at their first 
meeting ; nor can it be conceived by any 
but such as have loved in a divine manner, 
and have had their affections suspended by 


misfortunes and mistakes : therefore I will 
only mention the subject of their dis- 
course, which was the challenging each 
other of much unkindness ; she him, for 
not giving her timely advertisement of his 
health, which would have prevented the 
inconveniences grown by his rumoured 
death ; and he her, for giving too sudden 
credit to it, and so soon bestowing her af- 
fections upon another; whereunto both of 
them used their best endeavours to dis- 
charge themselves and fasten the blame 
upon the other; but in conclusion they 
both saw that there was more of misfor- 
tune in it, than of fault on either side : 
which was the cause that Theagenes made 
often visits to her, and she willingly re- 
ceived them : yet he, resolving not to en- 
gage his affections too far, the first knot 
being by her broken, because of the doubt- 
ful rumour that Mardontius had once had 
much interest in her affections. But 


withal her excessive beauty and graceful- 
ness did so win upon his senses, that after 
some time, when he thought he had re- 
established himself in a good place of her 
well-liking, he attempted her to consent 
to his passion, and prosecuted his suit 
with all the vehemence and subtlety that 
an earnest and well experienced lover 
could use, without mention of any pro- 
vision to her honour ; which she no sooner 
perceived, but that her heart swelling with 
a noble anger and disdain, she banished 
him from her presence, and it was a long 
time before he could take off that hard 
sentence, though he daily offered up to 
her indignation much sorrow and unfeign- 
ed signs of deep repentance, which, in the 
end, so much prevailed with her generous 
soul, which yet was full of affection and 
did but resent his disrespect as her honour 
claimed of her, that she admitted him 
again into her favour, and made as much 


demonstration of it as before : so that now 
their hearts were joined in a fraternal af- 
fection, and their manner of living, each 
towards other, confuted the opinion of 
those who hold that the laws of a high and 
divine friendship cannot be observed 
where a woman hath a part. 

In the mean time, Clericius, that was 
of the Prince's bedchamber, and esteemed 
to be in his favour more than any there, 
became an earnest suitor to her to receive 
him to her husband ; but by her refusal 
was justly punished for his disdain of other 
women : for he was so hard to please in 
the choice of "a wife, that of many advan- 
tageous overtures which had been made 
unto him, he would accept of none; but 
declared himself that until he did meet 
with such a woman as both for mind and 
body, he could wish nothing to be mended 
in her, he would live a single life. Cer- 
tainly, his resolution being such, if Stel- 


liana had not been born in this age, he 
would never have known what love had 
been : but when he had grown into her ac- 
quaintance, then he said that he believed 
nature had been oversparing of her bless- 
ings to all other women, on purpose to 
heap all imaginable perfections upon one, 
so that her power might be the more ad- 
mired. When he saw that by himself he 
could not prevail in obtaining what he so 
much desired, he discovered the violence 
of his passions to Theagenes, there being 
much entireness between them, begotten 
by their daily conversation in their both 
serving the same master, and knowing that 
he sued not to her for himself, but that 
withal he had an interest in her in an ho- 
nourable way, he beseeched him, with the 
greatest adjurations that might be, to en- 
deavour himself in his behalf. Here one 
may perceive what a divine thing the 
obligation of friendship is in a generous 


and gentle heart ; for Theagenes, that 
would rather have consented to the loss of 
his life than to see her in another man's 
possession, his flames daily increasing, be- 
came himself a mediator for his friend, to 
gain him that content that would cause 
himself eternal sorrow : which he did not 
in a cold manner, as only to acquit him- 
self of his promise, but used and urged all 
the arguments that he could to win Stel- 
liana to this match, so much to her advan- 
tage in temporal respects. But all the 
answer that he could get from her, was a 
flat denial, alleging that she would never 
tie herself to any man in other knot than 
of love and affection ; and that her misfor- 
tunes had broken and deadened her heart 
that way. The latter part of which, Thea- 
genes heard with much impatience, be- 
cause it concerned him so nearly, and did 
put her in mind how once it was much 
otherwise, when they lived so happily and 


joyed only in each other; which caused 
Stelliana in like manner to tax his change 
that was now become a suitor for another 
man; and yet she professed more good- 
will to him by infinite degrees than 
to any one else, if at least a created 
heart be capable of such extreme dis- 
tances ; with which he rested much con- 
tented, and in the best manner that he 
could, excused himself of his unwilling im- 
portunity for his friend, whom he informed 

how little he could prevail in his suit. 

// f 

In the mean time Hephaestion, having 
by sinister means broken the peace and 
alliance with Egypt, sought to provide 
likewise so for the future that he might 
be secure they would not piece again, 
whereunto he 'knew the old king to be 
much inclined ; and therefore he endea- 
voured to engage the Prince in some other 
place, that so there might be an impossi- 
bility of his returning to treat of the for- 


mer match ; and considering that there is 
a perpetual jealousy between the crowns 
of Athens and of Egypt, lest either should 
increase in power, he deemed it the most 
expedient to solicit the King of Athens for 
his sister; hoping also by this means to 
draw that Prince with more affection into 
the league that was making against the 
King of Egypt. Whereupon, desiring the 
negotiation should be speedy and ef- 
fectual, he resolved to go in person upon 
this embassage, and therefore made the 
noblest preparations that might be for his 
journey, correspondent to such an em- 
ployment, and befitting the favourite of 
so great a King as he served ; who, to do 
him the more grace, appointed several of 
his own servants and of his sons, of the 
most eminent quality, to accompany him ; 
among which, Theagenes was one, who 
upon other like public occasions had given 
evident demonstrations, that he would be 


behind none in doing his master and na- 
tion honour, and in this he was nothing 
short of what he formerly had done ; but 
the time of making provision to defray such 
great and extraordinary expenses was so 
short, that many of his friends thought he 
would be much troubled before he could 
raise so great a sum of money, as he was 
upon the sudden to lay out ; which com- 
ing to Stelliana's notice, she greatly re- 
joiced that she had so apt an occasion to 
make expression of the much that she 
would do for Theagenes, were it in her 
power, and presently took up money upon 
the best jewels and plate that she had, and 
engaged such lands as were hers, either in 
present or in reversion, and having ga- 
thered together a large sum, she sent it to 
Theagenes, entreating him to make use of 
it without cumbering his estate, which 
consisting of settled rents, would soon quit 
a greater debt ; and thus she made him at 
p 2 


once master of all she had or could hope 
for. This generous action of hers sunk so 
deep into his heart, that it was like the 
throwing in of a great weight into a scale 
that was before so equally balanced as one 
could not guess which way it would in- 
cline, and so bringeth that side suddenly 
down ; for before he suffered a continual 
conflict in himself between the considera- 
tion of her worth and perfections, and the 
dissuasions of some of his friends, particu- 
larly of his mother, who, as you understood 
at the beginning of this discourse, was 
ever averse to his match with Stelliana. 
But now that besides the contemplation 
of those excellencies in general, he had 
such a clear demonstration of the apply- 
ing them by her affection to his particular, 
for greater could not be than to have 
trusted him with all her estate and for- 
tune, his heart yielded, and he resolved to 
get her for his wife ; and those difficulties 


which before opposed this action being 
now overcome, did quicken his resolution, 
like water that being thrown upon a fire 
that it cannot extinguish, rnaketh it burn 
with greater violence. But when he had 
declared his intention and desire to Stel- 
liana, he received from her an answer 
much contrary to what he expected ; the 
effect of which was a flat refusal, pro- 
nounced with much settledness and a con- 
stant gravity, grounded by her upon sup- 
posed reason and a strange construction 
of love to him ; which yet she could not 
deliver without many tears, bewailing her 
misfortune that brought her to these terms, 
that to be constant to her honour, though 
therein she had no witness but herself, and 
to be the surer of her dearest friend's affec- 
tion, she must deny the just suit of him 
that she loved above her own life, and re- 
fuse that offer that in respect of the world 
would be most honourable to her, and 


whereto her wishes were more strongly 
bent than his ; for she acknowledged in- 
genuously how she had once given her 
consent to marry Mardontius, and, upon 
the assurance of that, passed upon both 
sides, had given him leave to have her pic- 
ture, which he still kept, and therefore she 
would never suffer that one man should 
possess her, and another such a gage of a 
former, though half-constrained, affection ; 
and - that hereafter, in colder thoughts, 
Theagenes, if the heat and edge of his pas- 
sion should be somewhat abated, might 
give another interpretation to her past 
actions than now he did, and peradventure 
deem her not so worthy of his affection 
and respect. 

Hereupon Theagenes used the best ar- 
guments he could to certify her, as he 
termed it, wrong judgment, representing 
to her how his reason was the same that at 
any time it would be, and his knowledge 


of her actions being already complete, his 
judging of them could not alter; and that 
he did not admit of the level that the vul- 
gar is guided by, who is wholly ruled by 
opinion, but examined all things according 
to their reality; and therefore his affec- 
tion, whose root was in her virtues, and did 
not spring from any blind passion, was 
not liable to any intervals of heat or cold. 
And that for Mardontius, she was free of 
that promise, he first breaking it, and as 
for the picture that he had, she could not 
punish him more than in letting him re- 
tain it by him, that so he might conti- 
nually be put in mind of those joys that 
his folly bereaved him of, and live, like 
the damned souls, whose greatest misery 
this is, in perpetual despair and curse him- 
self. But when Theagenes perceived that 
all he said could not move her fixed mind, 
but rather increased her sorrow, he ceased 
to solicit her any more for that time, 


hoping that afterward he might find a 
more propitious hour for his suit ; which 
to facilitate by all the means that he 
could, he sent to Mardontius, by a gen- 
tleman, to challenge him to fight with him 
in mortal duel till one of them were de- 
prived of their life, for that the earth could 
not bear them both at once; unto whom, 
when they were in the field together, he 
declared at large the cause of his enmity 
with him, taking upon him to be the re- 
venger of the wrong he had done to Stel- 
liana, and by sending him out of the 
world, to make a way to himself of gain- 
ing her. But Mardontius told him, 
that he would not fight in this quarrel, 
for that if he had done her any wrong 
she had herself too rigorously punished 
him for it, and by rejecting him after his 
repentance, made him the only sufferer for 
it ; and that his life could be no object for 
Theagenes's enjoying her, since he could 


pretend no interest in her, which if he 
could have done he would not have los 
her when he loved her equal with his own 
soul, and strived to regain her as much as 
he could for heaven ; and for the picture, 
if she would not give him leave to keep 
it, he would restore it to her by Thea- 
genes's conveyance, together with a declara- 
tion under his own hand, of what he had 
already said, and that his tongue spoke 
false if ever it uttered any thing to her dis- 
honour, and a disclaiming of ever having 
had any interest in her, beyond what the 
laws of modesty and honour would permit 
her. With the performance of which, and 
the restitution of the picture, Theagenes 
rested satisfied, seeing that he could not 
prevail with him to draw his sword, and 
that, indeed, the cause of this desire to 
fight was taken away by this proceeding and 
writing of Mardontius ; which made him 
deem him too unworthy to be his enemy. 


Theagenes having had this success, and 
a main part of the difficulties on Stel- 
liana's side being thus taken away, without 
any loss or hazard of blood, through the 
meanness of Mardontius's spirit, he re- 
turned to her with much joy through the 
confidence he had that now he should find 
no more obstacles in what he so much 
longed for : but her heart was so settled 
by being long fixed upon her melancholy 
resolutions of living for the future a so- 
litary life, that although now the principal 
causes of them ceased, yet, like water that 
being made to boil, will not grow suddenly 
cool though the fire be taken from it, she 
could not so soon relent or slacken her 
rigour, that he might from thence draw to 
himself any ground of hopes. Whereupon, 
after much solicitation and not prevailing, 
through despair he read upon himself a 
doom of much affliction, as the unfor- 
tunate and wretched souls shall do in the 


last day ; the heaviest part of which shall 
be their perpetual banishment from the 
blessed sight of God ; and in like manner 
he made a vow, that after he had taken his 
leave now of her, he would never see her 
more, nor Morea for her sake, but would 
wander like a lost man through the rest of 
the world, seeing that hereabouts he could 
meet with nothing but sad objects that 
would continually put him in mind of the 
happiness that he had missed; and the 
sight of her would be but like the punish- 
ment of Tantalus, to increase in him the 
desire of what he must never enjoy. To 
which expression of sorrow made by him, 
although it were by reflection stronger in 
her, yet thinking it might be but the vio- 
lence of a passion which might in time be 
calmed, or at the least diverted, if it met 
not with a serious opposition, she answered 
in this manner, clearing her face with 
gentle smiles, a habit far differing from 


what her mind was clothed with. " Cer- 
tainly, Theagenes, if you love me as much 
as you would have me believe, your stars 
are no less cross in teaching you how to 
express it, than you say mine are in making 
me take the resolution of ending my days 
in a single and retired life, for the which, 
you cannot deny but that I had reason ; 
and if now that may be pretended to 
cease, yet it hath so sunk into my heart, 
like a thick dye in which it hath been 
long bathed, that it can take no other 
colour or impression ; but I think you can- 
not give me the example of any man, that 
through the abundance of their love to 
any lady who loved them as you know 
that I do you, which I take God to wit- 
ness is as much as ever sister did a brother, 
did take a resolution and confirm it with a 
vow of never seeing her more. Is absence, 
then, the most expedient means to increase 
or confirm affections? or peradventure is 


it, that you are so well acquainted with 
foreign parts, that all places are alike to 
you to afford you content, and those best 
liked of you, where you shall not be in 
danger to have my true zeal to check your 
loose delights, and tax you of inconstancy 
and ingratitude ?" Then after some pause, 
and changing her forced countenance into 
the livery of her mind, not being able 
longer to continue her dissimulation, she 
proceeded thus : " If so, and that you 
were grown weary of loving me, you would 
have been more gentle to have deceived 
me a little, and by degrees have instructed 
me to wind in again my affection and 
loosen it from you, which now is stretched 
to the utmost scope that my heart can 
extend unto ; but indeed, it is unkindly 
done, to make my love the cause of your 
inconstancy, and to cast off into an ocean 
of sorrow the near-sinking vessel of my 
fortune and content, which held but by 


one anchor, and now must needs suffer 
shipwreck for your sake." The last of 
which words she sighed out with such a 
flood of tears, true witnesses of her bleed- 
ing heart, that was so deeply wounded 
with what Theagenes had said, although 
at the first she strived to disguise it, that 
he, who thought no sorrow could have ex- 
ceeded his, was now fain to lay the 
thought of that aside, to attend to mitigate 
hers ; but his bowels were so shut up and 
as it were congealed with grief, that it was 
a long time before he could frame to him- 
self any distinct conceptions, and then be- 
fore he could apparel those in fit words ; 
during which profound silence on both 
sides, interrupted only with some sighs 
and tears, their hearts did melt with ten- 
derness, like a heap of snow opposed to the 
sunbeams, and then, being endued with 
love's magnetical virtue, each of them re- 
solved to themselves to admit of no mo- 


tions but such as were conformable to the 
other's desires ; which could not be long 
concealed between them, for nothing is 
hid to the divine light of.lovers' flames, by 
which they see and talk with each other's 
thoughts, so that of a sudden a most 
bright and glorious day of joy rose out of 
the lap of their late dusky and clouded 
night of sorrow ; and as the sunbeams illu- 
minate the whole hemisphere at one in- 
stant, so this mutual consent of their wills 
banished immediately all dark and un- 
couth shadows of discontent, and made all 
things, even their own tears, smile upon 

And then to crown their joys with 
that ceremony which might make them 
permanent and holy, the minister of those 
rites joined their hands in that sacred knot 
which had long before knit their affec- 
tions, and wtis now equally welcome on 
both sides. But Theagenes, being there- 


unto moved by sundry weighty respects, 
desired Stelliana, and the rest that were 
then present, to conceal it for some time ; 
which she for his sake, and for the import- 
ance of the reasons, readily consented 
unto, although till it were discovered it 
might reflect upon her honour for admit- 
ting him to a greater familiarity than be- 
longed to any but a husband. 

But their affection could not be carried 
with such caution, Theagenes neither de- 
siring more than that the certainty of the 
main should not be precisely known, but 
that many mouths were filled with various 
discourses of their familiarity, and some 
commended, others censured them for it, 
according to the rule that every one had 
framed to themselves for their own ac- 
tions. Among whom Rogesilius, who was 
Aristobulus's nephew, and between whom 
and Theagenes was contracted a very 
strait friendship, mainly condemning his 


friend for his too much indulgency to his 
passions, having one day a fit occasion to 
fall upon this theme as they were talking 
together alone, spoke to him in this man- 
ner: "I am so bold, dear cousin, upon 
the friendship which hath linked our 
hearts together, that I dare adventure 
without being asked my advice, to deliver 
you my opinion in what I believe most 
men else would shun the very mentioning 
thereof to you. My much love to you will 
serve to discharge me of presumption, 
since the nature of that is to desire all 
complete perfection in the person beloved, 
and then one is most encouraged to use 
all their endeavours that may conduce to 
that, when they see there is but a small 
obstacle in the way : in conformity to 
which, I must give this testimony of you 
without adulation, that in all qualities be- 
longing to a generous and worthy gentle- 
man, you may be a pattern to all those 



that I have ever known, were it not only 
for continuance in one action, which doth, 
I will not say eclipse, but, much alloy, in 
ray opinion, the splendour of the rest. 
Every one is sharp-sighted in other men's 
errors, while their own pass by unre- 
garded ; and this I believe to be the rea- 
son that I can look into any of yours, be 
it never so little, which you scarce take 
notice of; for if you did, certainly I con- 
ceive you to be endued with such strength 
of mind that you could and would soon 
correct it. Another reason why this in 
you is so obvious to every man's discovery, 
which in less worthy persons would 
scarcely be seen, or at least not imputed to 
a crime, is the other excellencies wherein 
you surpass the vulgar; so that it fareth 
with you as with the richest jewels, wherein 
a small blemish falleth much of their 
value ; and with the fairest colours, in 
which a little stain is soon perceived. I 


will not use many circumstances to bring 
me to that place, where I am sure you al- 
ready expect me, since upon strict exa- 
mination of yourself you can find yourself 
to lie open but upon one side, that is, to 
the assaults of a woman's beauty, that 
have found in you a tenderer heart in re- 
sisting them than I should have promised 
to myself of you when I consider the con- 
stancy and stayedness of your other ac- 
tions. Neither will I use many words to 
dissuade you from that affection wherein 
you have, as it were, lain, some time asleep, 
since I know the quickness and excellency 
of your wit to be such, that will furnish 
you with much better reasons than any I 
can use to wean you from it, if you will 
but once enter into the impartial consi- 
deration of it ; only give me leave to put 
you in mind of your honour, entreating 
you not to let it suffer shipwreck in the 
ruinous ocean of sense and pleasure, which 

Q 2 


at the best is ever accompanied with sa- 
tiety and repentance. Consider how love 
is the weakest of all passions, and whereas 
some good resulteth out of all others, the 
least evils of this, is to abastardise the 
mind, to make it effeminate, unfit for any 
worthy action, and so wholly and anxi- 
ously employed in low desires, that it can 
think of nothing else as long as it is pos- 
sessed with this fever. Then rise up out 
of this dream, and receive wonted vigour 
into your heroic spirits, which I know you 
will confess at least to have been slack- 
ened of late in their operations : and if 
humanity be so forcible in you that you 
must pay some dues to that sex which you 
receive half your being from, let it be at 
large, and the main scope thereof your 
own pleasure; which certainly groweth 
flat by being confined to one object, 
and is by variety raised to his greatest 


Rogesilius having thus ended his dis- 
course, which contained precisely the pre- 
cepts that his own life was guided by, 
Theagenes, after some meditation upon 
what his friend had spoken, made him this 
answer : " I have reason, worthy Rogesilius, 
to esteem myself happy in two respects; 
the, one in that having so judicious a friend 
as you are, he can look upon my weak- 
nesses with so much partiality in my behalf, 
as not thereby to lessen his affection to me; 
the other, that the herd of ignorant men, 
which never spared any one, were he never 
so perfect, can find nothing in me to fasten 
upon with disgraceful censures but that 
which, being duly examined, may perad- 
venture deserve praise, at least pardon. 
I will deliver to you what I conceive is fit 
to be said in defence of such affection as 
you so much exclaim against, and will 
make you the judge, whether I am in error 
or no, when you have heard my reasons, 


which I confess will be out of the path and 
reach of the vulgar, as all wise men's ac- 
tions are or ought to be. But first let us 
consider it a little by their ordinary and 
familiar scale, which, I think, will afford 
me some excuse. It is then received among 
them for an undoubted principle, that all 
men, the perfectest that ever were, are 
subject to errors and have their vices, 
'quisque suos patimur manes/ and they 
are the best that are the least ill : for in 
this life all things ought to be judged 
comparatively; and as that body which 
hath been afflicted with evil humours, may 
be said to be in health when they grow all 
from their several places to one head, and 
discharge themselves by one way of little 
danger ; so that man that, having lived in 
the stormy sea of various passions, as all 
men do or have done, can at length over- 
come the multitude of them, and purge 
them away by one that is not of a virulent 


nature, though it may cause some remission 
and some kind of relaxation of the mind, 
truly deserveth commendations, and none 
but unjust judges will too sharply censure 
that person for not overcoming the last, be- 
cause he was able to get the mastery of the 
others; like the unworthy multitude that 
condemneth a Captain of treason, for fail- 
ing in one only attempt, because he hath 
gotten so much reputation in other suc- 
cessful ones, that all things appear not 
only possible, but easy to him, if he apply 
himself industriously to effect them. If 
then this love that you so much inveigh 
against, be the only fault that is found with 
me, certainly it deserveth excuse, since it 
may be understood to be the vent for 
other worse passions^ But examine it in 
itself, and all the ill that you can say of 
it, is, that it is not active in doing good, 
and benumbeth those spirits that might be 
employed in heroic actions. What a weak 


accusation is this ! or rather is it not a 
commendation? for we see that in this 
world the bad doth so exceed the good, 
both in number and weight, and our na- 
ture AS so prone to the worst, that they de- 
serve praise who refrain from doing badly, 
though they contain themselves from doing 
good; and indeed, he is said to do well 
that doth not ill, virtue being principally 
the abstaining from vice. And where you 
say that I have sometimes lain asleep m 
this affection, therein you say, in effect, 
that I have been some time happy, and 
behaved myself discreetly, since the peace 
and tranquillity of the mind is that which 
the wisest men aim at, and in this life that 
is so full of troubles, nothing is so pleasing 
to us, as a quiet and gentle sleep: there- 
fore, that any man inveigheth with bitter- 
ness against me for this so slender fault, 
if it be any, is because they find no 
greater; and then it happeneth to them 


as to those whose eyes grow soon weary 
and ache by looking too steadfastly upon 
little and scarce sensible objects. But 
shall I content myself with pardon for 
that which is a merit to God, and to 
nature? No, I will not purchase my peace 
so unworthily, and betray so noble a cause, 
by owing that to others' favourable cen- 
sures, which reason will give me after a 
short conflict against opinion, the mother 
of error. Hear then, my defence of Love, 
and then let slander grow dumb, and swell 
till it burst with its own venom ; and may 
that God that I adore, and who hatb given 
being, form, and order to all things, inspire 
me to speak high things in his behalf, as 
much out of the common path and above 
the pitch of vulgar conceptions, as the 
saint to whom my devotions are addressed 
in his heaven outshineth all other beauties. 
" Thus then I begin : In the infinite and 
eternal Essence that hath created us to his 


likeness, and made our souls his lively 
images, we may consider two supreme 
powers, the understanding and the will; 
by the first of which he exerciseth himself 
in the knowledge and contemplation of 
his own perfections ; and by the second 
produceth such an excellent love of what 
he understandeth, that it becometh another 
person of the same substance and essence 
with himself: this is the blessed state of 
the divinity, to have eternally the under- 
standing replenished with notions of infinite 
perfection, and to have the will continually 
taken up entirely in loving and being 
beloved; which causeth a perfect joy in 
this happy and eternal society. This, then, 
being laid as a foundation to what I intend 
to prove, and it being undoubtedly re- 
ceived, that rational creatures ought, as 
near as they can, to conform themselves, 
in all their actions, to this divine light, 
of which our souls are living sparkles; 


let us examine what is the highest ope- 
ration and most resembling his Creator's, 
that man can busy himself in ? Certainly 
it is to employ our understanding about 
the objects of greatest perfection that it 
is capable of, and the will in loving such ; 
this last action, or rather gift, can only and 
truly be termed our own, since nothing is 
entirely ours, and removed out of the 
power of fortune, but the liberty of the 
will, and the first original gift of that, is 
love ; and that faculty which bestoweth it 
being spiritual, it is never weary with 
continuing this action, but of necessity is 
always giving, and so always loving. Our 
main care ought to be then, since this free 
gift of the will must ever be given, that it 
be well and orderly bestowed ; and here the 
other faculty of the rational soul, which is 
the understanding, cometh to help her 
sister in making a fit choice: it is a flame 
that always striveth to ascend, and to 


embrace objects of greatest perfection, but 
to employ itself directly about God, it 
wanteth capacity, there being an infinite 
distance between the Creator and a crea- 
ture, the one being limited in her actions, 
and the other like a most resplendent sun 
that dazzleth all eyes that look upon him 
besides his own. The next real object, then, 
that claimeth loVe, is men's souls that con- 
form themselves to the rules of virtue; 
among which the perfectest do, of due, 
require the greatest proportion, and herein 
we pay, as near as we can, our debt to our 
Creator, by loving him in his image, since 
we cannot understand and love him in his 
own bright nature and essence so fully as 
we ought to do. In the first consideration, 
which is of souls simply in themselves, all 
are alike, but that some may be endued 
with more virtue and greater perfections 
than others; but of the second, which is 
of souls as they are in bodies, nature step- 


peth in and telleth us, that since all those 
spiritual substances are of the same nature 
in themselves, and have the same powers 
and faculties, it is convenient for the eter- 
nizing of the species, that men should make 
choice of those that are lodged in female 
habitations; and from her rules without 
weighty cause, none ought to swerve. In 
the choice then of this, as the outward form 
giveth a taste of the interior nature, so 
long conversation and observing those 
actions that issue from the mind, do afford 
a sure ground for one to make a complete 
judgment thereof; in both which consi- 
derations, I am sure that I have reason to 
say, that I have made a happy election. 

" Let us then go on in this speculation : 
I have already shewed how understanding 
and love are the natural operations of a 
reasonable creature; and this last, which is 
a gift that of his own nature must always 
be bestowed, being the only thing that is 


really in our power to bestow, it is the 
worthiest and the noblest that can be 
given, and deserveth the greatest retribu- 
tion that can be ftiade; which can be 
condignly done only with paying it with 
coin of the same nature. Our principal 
care then must be to confer this present 
only upon that which deserveth it, and 
may repay it. Withal, consider how much 
a man derogateth from himself and abaseth 
himself in placing this gift elsewhere, and 
somewhere it must be placed, as upon 
honour, power, wealth, sensual delights, or 
the like, since it is evident, that nothing is 
so noble, as that which beareth the true 
image of God : for the nature of love is to 
convert and transform the lover into the 
object beloved ; and according to the worth 
and excellency of that, or to the imperfec- 
tions or defects of it, a man bettereth or 
impaireth himself. This is proved in that 
love is an entire free gift, as being the 


action of a free and unconfirmed will; 
and although it must of necessity be given 
somewhere, yet it is so truly one's own, 
and bestowed with shch a full liberality, 
that it maketh him to whom it is given 
the absolute master of it, and is wholly 
under his domination and power; and 
being that love carrieth the will with it, 
and that the will hath all power, command, 
and jurisdic tion in man, it folio vveth that 
to whom one giveth love, one giveth also 
their will and their whole self; and thus by 
love one is united to what one loveth, and 
converted and transferred into the nature 
and dominion thereof. 

" To draw then this discourse to a con- 
clusion : the love of a virtuous soul dwell- 
ing in a fair and perfect body, is the 
noblest and worthiest action that a man is 
master of: it exerciseth in due manner that 
superior talent that God and nature hath 
given him ; and by choosing a perfecter 


object than himself to love, it exalteth and 
refineth those seeds of goodness that are in 
him, and although he should not find any 
completely perfect, yet this heroic effect 
of it would not be frustrated, since it is 
the nature of love to make the lover believe 
all possible perfections in the person be- 
loved, and to that idea that he hath 
framed to himself, he raiseth himself up. 
And when this divine gift, which obligeth 
the person beloved in the deepest debt 
that may be, is repaid in such manner as 
it ought to be, which can be only by 
returning the like love, then the lover 
reapeth the fruit of this action, which is 
perfect joy; and that is the greatest 
blessing that our nature is capable of, as 
sorrow is the greatest misery, which at the 
last must necessarily follow those that 
miss of this joy by erring in the bestow- 
ing of this gift, although it may be long 
before they take notice of it, like the 


unfortunate and wretched souls, whose 
greatest torment is to be deprived of the 
divine joy, that is the inheritance of them 
who place their love upon a right object. 
And this joy and content of lovers, besides 
that it is the highest and noblest that we 
can possess, is also the securest, and placed, 
as it were, in sanctuary, out of the hands of 
fortune and change ; for the ground of it 
is in ourselves, and we need the help of no 
exterior thing to make it complete, it 
dependeth upon our wills which we govern 
as we please: therefore, this is the true 
happiness that a wise man ought to aim 
at, since that himself is master of it and 
he can give it to himself when he list. I 
hope then that you will now no longer call 
that the weakest of all passions, which 
produceth so noble effects; nor believe 
that it doth effeminate the mind, or relent it 
from the prosecution of heroic and virtuous 
actions, since the nature of it is to raise it 



up to the perfectest notions, and inciteth 
any generous heart to do worthy things, 
were it but to recommend him unto the 
esteem of her that he adoreth. And for 
satiety and repentance, they are qualities 
not incident to spiritual actions, as I un- 
derstand the fruition and joy begotten by 
this noble love to be for the most part; 
but accompanieth inseparably that gross 
and material enjoying which you recom- 
mend to me to extinguish or to mitigate 
my divine flame. Therefore, after this 
discourse, which m,ay seem tedious to you, 
but is a theme that I should never be weary 
to enlarge myself upon, I am confident you 
will now harbour a more favourable opi- 
nion of my affection than you did before ; 
I having proved how noble a thing love is, 
and how necessary to make a man com- 
pletely happy, and that in the object of 
mine there is so much perfection, as I am 
sure you will say, who are yet an indifferent 


and unpassionate judge, that she deserveth 
it beyond all women that you or I have 
ever known/' 

Whether Rogesilius were satisfied or no 
with this discourse, he did riot at all 
express by any words; but after a long 
and profound silence or* both sides, he 
not thinking it good manners to oppose 
farther what he saw had taken so deep & 
root in his friend's heart ; and being de- 
sirous to divert Theagenes from the tram 
of his deep and serious meditations, that 
still continued rolling about the heads of 
what he had spoken, Stelliana being con- 
tinually the centre of all the motions effort 
heart, began a new conference, and desired 
Theagenes to relate to him the passages of 
a falling out between Famelicus, One that 
served the king in the same place that he 
did, and him, whereof he had yet but 
an imperfect knowledge delivered him 
by uncertain rumour : whereupon Thea- 
u 2 


genes to satisfy his curiosity, began in this 

" To give you a full understanding of the 
injury that was done me, and why it was 
done me, I most take the beginning of this 
discourse a little higher than the abrupt 
relation of what passed between Famelicus 
and me, since he was but the indiscreet 
instrument of others' malice. You may 
then be pleased to understand, that be- 
tween Nugentius, whom you know to be 
so powerful and of so much esteem in his 
own country, and myself, there hath been 
heretofore great friendship and fami- 
liarity ; and in the time of our most dear- 
ness we never had other differences, jiot so 
much as in opinions, more than, while I 
sighed out my affectionate flames, he 
would strive either by counsel to win me 
from my devotions, or at least, by bitter 
invectives and taunts, seek to make me 
ashamed of the condition of a loving 


martyr which I lived in. But the little 
God, which the common people thinketh to 
be blind, was not long before he revenged 
this blasphemy of his, and made him see 
how weak the eyes of vulgar and cold 
reason are to look upon a sun of beauty; 
for he kindled such a fire in his breast that 
he soon felt all the tormenting passions 
that most lovers do but weakly feign, and 
was so coldly requited by her whom he 
adored, that from all her actions he might 
gather to himself rather matter of despair, 
than of any comfort or content. And the 
judgment that was inflicted upon him, was 
every way so proportionable to his sin, that 
he sucked in this furious heat, and drunk 
this bitter poison, in the presence of him 
whom he had so often taxed of folly for 
loving; for one summer evening as he and 
I were entertaining ourselves, for our 
pleasure, upon the river, we met a boat 
wherein Stelliana and Babilinda were 


both sitting together, listening to a song 
accompanied with excellent music that 
they had brought out with them, having 
allotted this pleasant and calm evening to 
their recreation in this kind. I that had 
my eyes armed with love, discerned afar 
off who was in the boat, which scarce 
being able to bear that heaven of perfec- 
tion, did sink under her burden, and yet 
the water seemed to run pleasantly about 
her, and smile that it was so honoured, 
while at every stroke the oars made, one 
would think it dissolved into tears for her 
spon gliding away. But Nugentius of a 
sudden, grew like one amazed, or that had 
unheedly looked upon the stone-trans- 
forming head, and it was a long time before 
he could frame any word, and only gave 
evidence of his passions by his deep sighs : 
he found it true that love is begotten at the 
first sight, and that some light or disdainful 
action of a conquering beauty is able to 


subdue and tame the sternest and wildest 
heart that is; for, as he afterward confessed 
to me, a certain scornful and disorderly 
putting off of her veil, which of a sudden 
displayed the lightnings of Babilinda's 
eyes, dazzled his, and wounded him to the 
very soul. But when after a long suit he 
found that he could not warm the cold 
and frozen heart of her that he so much 
loved, a foul passion crept into his bosom, 
that usually accompanieth none but weak 
minds that are conscious to themselves of 
their own little worth, and made him 
jealous that the cause why Babilinda was 
so little favourable to him, proceeded from 
her much respect to me; which, indeed, had 
no other ground but the devoting of my 
services to Stelliana, to whom she saw they 
were pleasing, and there being much 
friendship between them two, and a con- 
tinual familiarity, she endeavoured what 
she could to do fair offices on both sides, 


which is the property of all gentle natures; 
and by this means I came to be much 
beholden to her, she seeing that the oblig- 
ing me in this manner was also the obliging 
of her friend in many things that her bash- 
fulness would not let her do, although she 
desired them, unless she were half con- 
strained thereto. But indeed Babilinda's 
want of affection to Nugentius proceeded 
from other causes, whereof the one was her 
young and yet wild heart, unacquainted 
with the very colour of passionate affection, 
which yet could take pleasure to see the 
effects of her fair eyes upon others' yield- 
ing ones; and the other, a certain fretting 
disposition of Nugentius, which made him 
unapt to purchase and win love; for he 
was of such an impatient nature, that when 
he found any obstacles in his desires, he 
would always murmur against fortune, 
accuse the malice of the times, and in- 
creasing his torment, would consume him- 


self in vain complaints; so that his spirit 

seemed always to delight in travail and 

affliction, by which means his suit and 
company became tedious and troublesome 
to Babilinda, which otherwise her discre- 
tion would have caused her to esteem 
much of, considering the reputation and 
dignity of the person that applied himself 
to her service. But he, mistaking the 
cause of his little success, bent all his wit to 
estrange me from Babilinda's company, 
which he saw could not be effected as long 
as the affection continued between Stelliana 
and me, they two being continually toge- 
ther, and therefore his first plpt was to set 
us two at variance: whereto fortune pre- 
sented him a fit occasion, by working upon 
the bitterness of Familicus's passion; 
who loving Stelliana violently, and making 
once some indiscreet expression of it, had 
received from her a public and weighty 
affront, which made him convert all his 


affection into rage and desire of revenge. 
Herein Hydaspes concurred with Nugen- 
tins, who you know was once very dear to 
me, for he hated her mortally, because that 
she had discovered to me a very trea- 
cherous action of his against me, to whom 
he professed and owed much friendship ; 
for he, thinking to settle himself in her 
favour by displacing me, whom he con- 
ceived to be the only hinderer of his desires, 
sought to disgrace me to her in private, 
and so to insinuate himself by my ruin 
into her grace. These two then, with all 
the subtlety that they could use, wrought 
upon Famelicus to say, that* he had re- 
ceived from Stelliana such friendship and 
kindnesses as none but her, at least in- 
tended, husband ought to be partaker of: 
assuring him that they would govern the 
business so that he should never be ques- 

* This passage has been substituted for " he had reason to 
believe that Stelliana was not so modest as she seemed, and 
that her modesty." 


tioned for what he said, and that they 
knew me to be of such a hot spirit and so 
violent in things that concerned my ho- 
nour, that upon this rumour, which they 
would cunningly insinuate to me, without 
farther examination I should leave her 
familiarity, and cast off her friendship ; 
which Famelicus desired as much as they, 
knowing that above all other things this 
would most afflict Stelliana, against whom 
he was now grown rancorously spiteful, 
that he would have been content to wound 
her even through his own body. But I, 
discerning their malice afar oft*, disguised 
as well as I could the sense that I had of 
Nugcntius and Hydaspes's relation to 
me, and behaved myself in such sort that 
they doubted not but that it took such 
impression in me as they desired it 

should ; lest if I had done otherwise it 

might have made them spin a farther web 
to embroil me more. But as soon as I 


had quitted myself of their troublesome 
company, without giving time to Famelicus 
to avail himself of any new subtleties by 
delays, I challenged him to make good 
upon him with my sword and hazard of 
my life, that all what he had said concern- 
ing Stelliana was false ; which I knew very 
well to be so, and that in his particular 
she ever despised him ; but I judged this 
way of proceeding was requisite both to 
right her and myself, because that know- 
ledge would not be sufficient to lead other 
men's beliefs, unless with his own mouth I 
made him give himself the lie. But he 
did more than that, for when he saw his 
life at stake, and that nothing less than 
that or an ingenuous and full confession 
would satisfy my just anger, he acknow- 
ledged how he had no ground of truth, or 
for suspicion, in all that he had said ; but 
that his own hatred to her had first sug- 
gested to him to injure her in the deepest 


manner that he could, and then the malice 
of Nugentius and Hydaspes blowed the 
coals in his breast, till it broke out into 
this unworthy and false slander; which, he 


averred, and said he would maintain with 
his life, was wholly their plot : and then re- 
lated all the particularities which I have told 
you, whereby himself hath got the repute of 
an indiscreet, rash, and dishonest coward; 
and the other two, the esteem of mali- 
cious, unworthy, and cankered wretches." 
After these and some other discourses, 
Theagenes, taking leave of Rogesilius, went 
to his own lodging, where he met with 
news that much afflicted him, and yet de- 
livering such a rich and heroic example of 
fortitude and constancy in a woman's 
breast, that I doubt whether it can be pa- 
ralleled with any in this age ; and, withal, 
of so much affection in his Stelliana to 
him, that would not only endure with 
magnanimity intolerable torments for his 


sake, but even give up her life without dis- 
puting it, only to satisfy a desire of his 
without any interest on her side ; that he 
joyed as much in the midst of his soul- 
breaking anguish, as a heart can do that is 
in suspense and doubt of the safety of the 
person that it loveth most. For by a mes- 
senger that was sent to him with exceeding 
haste from Stelliana, who was, and had 
been some time, at her father's house in 
the country, he understood how, by a fall 
from a horse as she was riding abroad the 
night before to take the air, she had re- 
ceived some bruises, and being brought 
speechless home into her chamber, as soon 
as she came to herself again, she fell sud- 
denly into labour of childbirth, she wanting 
then some few days of her expected time ; 
which unhappy accident disordered all the 
long and discreet preparations that were 
maturely made and contrived by both of 
them for her fit delivery : for the next day 


she intended, by coach, which she had with 
her, to come to Corinth, where a private 
and fit place, and due attendance, was pro- 
vided for her lying-in ; and she had re- 
mained at her father's all the time that 
her swelling burden might betray her to 
strangers' curious eyes, and was now come 
to the last period that it was safe for her to 
continue there. But hereby one may take 
to themselves a lesson, how weak all the 
wisest propositions of men are, and that 
God reserveth to himself the right of dis- 
posing all things; and then, when to human 
understandings a business seemeth to be 
upon worst terms, he raiseth from the 
weakest and least regarded subjects, means 
to rectify all again. For what, in all ap- 
pearance, could be weaker than the tender- 
ness of a delicate lady that never knew 
what hardness meant, to encounter with 
dangers, torments, nay, even death itself, 
and to outface suspicion ? for thus it hap- 


pened with Stelliana, who, choosing rather 
to suffer death and any other extremity, 
than to fail in the least point to what The- 
agenes desired of her, and what she had 
promised to him, resolved never to acquaint 
any one in what state she was while she 
had life, more than one servant she had, 
who was privy to what was between The- 
agenes and her. And thus, with the help 
of that one fearful and unexperienced maid, 
she was delivered of a fair son after a long 
and dangerous labour, in which she had 
like to have perished for want of due help ; 
ajid yet she bore it with such a strange 
and high resolution, that, being troubled 
by times with the visits of her careful 
father and others that lived in the house, 
she never betrayed any part of her pain by 
weak crying, or so much as any languish- 
ing sighs. But before Theagenes could 
come to her, who, upon the first news of 
her danger, made all possible haste thither, 


she had been so long in the hands of tor- 
ment, that her spirits began then to faint, 
and to yield themselves to a misty night, 
when, of a sudden, his sight brought new 
strength and vigour to her dismayed senses ; 
so that she, of her side, by undaunted suf- 
fering, and he, on his, by providing dis- 
creetly for the due carriage of all things, 
wherein he had no easy task, they both 
behaved themselves in such sort, that she 
soon recovered her perfect health and 
strength, and the cause of her sickness was 
not so much as suspected. And, if before, 
any one might have jealousies what state 
she was in, and might doubt the notice of 
her first pretending to be indisposed, all 
this was now cleared, since what was done 
would seem impossible, and not to be 
believed by any that did not know it was 

Theagenes having remained there till 
she was perfectly re-established in her 


health, returned to Corinth ; and then Aris- 
tobulus, taking occasion of this his late 
and so long and public having been with 
her, to represent to him the wrong that he 
did himself in this affection, and how much 
it did prejudice his esteem, did, in a grave 
and friendly manner, persuade him to cast 
it from him, and to banish so weak a 
passion out of his breast ; using words to 
this effect. " I have, of late, my worthy 
cousin, observed in you a great difference 
from yourself, for I know the natural 
temper of your mind, and the solidness of 
your judgment to be such, that when you 
do any thing otherwise than reason would 
dictate to you, you suffer force from some 
violent passion, which, if you give too 
much scope unto in the way you are, will 
lessen much, if not altogether lose, the 
reputation of discretion and prudence 
which you have gotten among all that 
know you. I need seek no farther for 


arguments to prove what I say, than to 
entreat you to look a little into yourself, 
and then you cannot choose but acknow- 
ledge, how you now scarcely cast an eye 
upon the studies which, heretofore, you 
applied yourself unto with much eagerness 
and no less benefit : that your endeavours 
to increase upon your master's favour and 
grace are mainly slackened, which if you 
had made right use of, in all probability 
your rank and fortunes might, by this 
time, have been ranked with the fore- 
most ; and that you do not put your- 
self forward into great and honourable 
actions with that zeal and vigour that you 
have done. All which effects of a weak- 
ened and decayed mind, I can attribute 
to no other cause but your having enter- 
tained into your breast a servile affection, 
which, wheresoever it entereth, is a clog to 
generous spirits, and freezeth all heroic 
thoughts in their very births, and over- 

s 2 


throweth the worthiest resolutions ; and 
will cause any man to sink in the value of 
the world ; begetting, if not contempt, at 
least a mean esteem, especially when it is 
conferred upon one that hath been known 
in hers to have been formerly engaged to 
another, and hath lived altogether at li- 
berty under her own conduct in the world. 
It belongeth to you not to sit still in idle- 
ness, but to aim at worthy fortunes to 
strive to raise your house, and to gain 
some advantageous match : whereas, in all 
probability, these will not only not in- 
crease, but lessen your estate ; since in 
your mother's disposal is a great part of 
what shall be yours if you displease her 
not, and you know that she is mainly 
averse to this. I appeal to yourself that 
you see the truth of what I say so evident, 
as, whatsoever you may answer me, your 
wit can but find arguments to evade my 
pressing you, and not to satisfy yourself. 


Then at length yield to reason, and let not 
the world say, that all your understanding, 
your knowledge, your learning, the vigour 
of your mind, and the well training of it up 
in virtuous actions, cannot defend you from 
the snares of beauty." 

These words, with others of like nature, 
spoken by Aristobulus with much authority 
and seriousness, through which yet shined 
much affection, did pierce Theagenes to 
the very soul ; who was distracted and torn 
asunder between his love and obligations 
to her that he loved better than himself, 
and his reverence to him that he loved 
and respected as a father, and that had, 
above all men else, given him solid de- 
monstrations of a worthy friendship. But, 
at length, his spirits unfolding themselves 
out of the net of deep and amazed sorrow, 
he replied to him in this manner. 

" Although my chiefest study, since I 
have had the ability of discerning and 


judging, my honoured lord, hath been to 
free my mind from that servitude in which 
most men's are fettered, which is, to relish 
things by other men's opinions; and that 
I have strived to attain to so perfect a 
liberty herein, as not to value whatsoever 
others may censure me of, as long as I am 
conscious to myself that I do according to 
the prescripts of nature and reason : yet 
the affectionate reverence that I bear unto 
you, doth so waken my sense and wound it 
so deeply when you pass the condemning 
sentence of dislike upon my actions, that, 
considering it is not in my power to alter 
the tenor of them, since we owe our being 
and the form of it to Heaven, I do wish 
myself out of the world, to the end that I 
might take away the occasion of your cen- 
sure, and yet not be false to that affection, 
which, next to my faith to God, is above 
all things else, deepest rooted in my soul. 
But since I know how vain such wishes 


are, and how deaf unto wretches' calls he 
is, that is the last and only physician of all 
our evils, I will contain myself from sighing 
out such weak expressions of a # fainting 
mind ; and will, in the best manner that I 
can, give you account of my opinions in 
such sort, as I may defend my actions 
depending thereon ; which, I confess, will 
not be a regular answer to what you have 
spoken, nor, as it ought to be, in form ; 
but, I hope, will be an effectual though 
disjointed one: and, for my excuse herein, 
I must beseech you to consider that the 
business I shall speak of, is that whereon 
the whole tenor of my life and happiness 
dependeth, and that I plead it before such 
a judge, that I account all lost if I give 
not him satisfaction ; which causeth such 
an eagerness in me, and such a desire to 
omit nothing that may serve for my de- 
fence, that many and very different con- 
siderations do present themselves unto me 


at the same time, so that, in this confusion, 
I know beforehand it will be impossible 
for me to speak things in order; and I fear 
that my several and numerous conceptions 
will so clog the issue, that, in striving each 
to get out first, they will stifle and suffocate 
one another, and thus, before they can 
grow to any strength and vigour, receive 
their death in the very place of their sud- 
den and immature birth ; or, at best, that 
those who shall have better fates, will come 
out so maimed, as they will express too 
much to the prejudice of my cause, that I 
suffer great unquietness within. To begin 
then in answering that which you first 
urge as a sign of my impaired train of life, 
and so to proceed successively to the rest, 
I must acknowledge that I have studied so 
much as to be very well informed that no 
knowledge is comparable to the knowledge 
of one's self, and that all other learning is 
vain which teacheth not to better the mind, 


and that the deepest speculations are but 
difficult trifles, if they be not employed to 
guide men's actions in the path of virtue, 
and directed to gain peace and tranquillity 
to the soul; and that their labour is very 
ridiculous, who strive to make their me- 
mory the storehouse of many infructuous 
notions. And for being cold in thrusting 
myself into great actions, such as usually 
entice away the affections of young men, 
whose spirits are unstayed through the 
intemperate heat of their boiling blood, I 
hope I shall be pardoned at the least by 
those that know how happy a thing it is to 
live to one's self; for, certainly, no exterior 
thing in this world is worthy the exchanging 
one's leisure for it ; and when we depart 
from the inward contentments that we 
may always enjoy at our own pleasure, 
we are then tormented with the desire of 
future things, and are glutted with the 
present, so that our life bccometh tedious, 


and we taste nothing but vexations. I 
conceive that all men naturally desire to 
live happily, as being the greatest blessing 
this life can afford us ; but in the chase of 
this state most men steer different courses, 
and the greatest part lose it in seeking it : 
for my part, I esteem that life blessed, 
which is led according to nature; which 
cannot be, unless the mind be vigorous 
and sound, out of the reach of fortune's 
power, free from admiration or being con^ 
fined to other men's opinions, and whom 
nothing can extol or depress, and knoweth 
no greater good than what he can give 
himself: and the contrary of this to be, 
when we let rumours take so deep im- 
pression in us, as to cause us to alter our 
resolutions and curb our desires, whereby 
we come to live not by reason, but accord- 
ing to example and to the opinion that 
will be entertained of us ; which of all 
servitudes is the greatest, men obliging 


themselves to believe the most voices, and 
enthralling their understandings and judg- 
ments to other errors. And when the 
world shall know how little I value their 
censures, I believe they will soon grow 
weary of persecuting me with them ; which 
I do not through obstinacy or stupidity of 
nature, but for the vanity that I observe in 
all their proceedings ; and because I know 
that he is not happy or unhappy that is 
thought so, but he only that feeleth and 
thinketh himself so. But I wonder much 
that you, who have so elevated a soul, 
should judge according to their rule, and 
so heavily condemn the affection in me 
which you take notice of, and is not pos- 
sible for me to disguise. I feel this in it, 
that, besides the settling of a young man's 
straying and wandering courses, it polisheth 
the mind and refineth it by causing it to 
work upon itself, and to neglect all things 
that conduce not to the bettering or to the 


quiet and peace of it ; which far exceedeth 
all the favours that fortune can heap upon 
me, for they are always in her inconstant 
hand to take away again, but nothing can 
touch or disturb this, if one betray not 
one's self. This diverteth the mind from 
weaker and meaner passions, and filleth it 
with excess of joy ; only one ought to be 
cautious in choosing upon whom to place 
it, and then it is the true office of a wise 
and honest man ; which will be more clear 
to you if you will call to mind what your 
nephew the other day related to you, how 
I proved to him that love is the noblest 
action that human nature can extend itself 
unto. I am sure this hath corrected many 
infirmities and natural imperfections which 
had deep seeds in me; and the like will 
do in any one that desireth to appear 
worthy to her that he so highly affecteth, 
and, therefore, calleth often his passions to 
a strict account before the tribunal of 


reason. But, setting aside all other argu- 
ments, I will confess ingenuously that I 
love Stelliana, and cannot but love her ; 
her perfections merit it : but for the present 
let those pass, and be not displeased with 
me that I say I love her because she is she, 
and I am I. The stars that are above us, 
and our reason, have a great stroke in our 
affections, how free soever our wills may 
be : but, withal, add her extreme affection 
to me, and then suppose I could master 
my own, and withdraw it, yet how unge- 
nerous should I be, and with what heart 
could I endure to break her heart that 
loveth me better than herself, and that 
hath obliged me to do the like towards 
her? for noble minds are more touched 
with the joy and sorrow that happeneth to 
their dear friends, than with their own ; 
especially when they are the procurers of 
it. But why should you or the world so 
much inveigh against my choosing her? 


Their judgments are accompanied with 
vanity, let not yours be so ; but examine 
her actions thoroughly, before you con- 
demn her. For you can give no solid 
reason why she should be less valued for 
her former affection, since, looking into 
the reality of it, and finding it to be on 
worthy grounds of her side, you must con- 
sent that her innocence is not impeached. 
But let us consider how, in this so im- 
portant business of marriage, one ought 
not to confine himself to the temporal re- 
spects of estate. It is a bargain in which 
posterity hath the greatest interest ; and 
riches are of an inferior consideration to 
several others. We see what care is used 
even in beasts for the breeding of a good 
race; much more then in the breeding of 
men it is to be cared for that the parents 
be well chosen, for the children take after 
them. A man ought to choose such a wife 
as may be observant and virtuous while 


he hath her, which none can promise to 
himself of one that he knoweth not per- 
fectly through long conversation, and 
whose will is not wholly in his power by 
love : indeed this one thing outweigheth 
all the rest, and is the highest obligation 
that may be, and challenge th the greatest 
retribution that is in one's power. A main 
part of which is, to undergo any censure 
for the beloved's sake; which, in my par- 
ticular, I do most joyfully, and am highly 
glad of the means to express my affection, 
in imitation of Him to whom we all owe 
our salvation, who was not contented with 
only suffering pain, or dying to effect that 
great work, of whom one only tear was of 
power to have washed away the sins of 
infinite worlds, but to shew his burning 
love and charity to us, would be the object 
of the highest and most reproachful infa- 
mies that were ever done to any man. A 
wise man should not confine himself to 


what may be said of the past actions of his 
wife, and we see it is little regarded by the 
greatest part and the most solid nations of 
the world : but in choosing her, he ought 
to see that she be nobly descended, beau- 
tiful to please him, well formed to bear 
children, of a good wit, sweet disposition, 
endowed with good parts, and love him ; 
then it will be his fault if he make her not 
a good wife. These qualities would war- 
rant me in choosing Stelliana ; for you 
know that by both her parents she de- 
scendeth from the noblest houses of Greece; 
and of her ancestors there have been that 
have exalted and pulled down Kings in 
Morea, and some of them might, and their 
successors still have right to wear a regal 
crown upon their princely temples. This 
match, into so noble and great families, 
doth not only add strength and many 
friends for the present, but the commodi- 
ties of it is inherited by one's children ; 


and those women that are of most honour- 
able blood, are most sensible of dishonour- 
able things, and so become most tractable 
and obedient to their husbands where it is 
requisite. For her beauty I need not say 
much, since my weak expression of it that 
is so much above the power of words to 
describe, would but sully the idea that, I 
am sure, you conceive of it. In her being 
well formed to bear children there can be 
no doubt, since she is in all things so 
exactly composed by the perfect rules of 
wise nature, as no man can intimate so 
much as an unessential scape. The excel- 
lency of her wit I cannot describe better 
than in saying, it is a masculine and vi- 
gorous one, and every way correspondent 
to her fair outside ; and can be impeached 
in nothing but her much loving me that 
cannot deserve it. And the sweetness of 
her disposition is such, that through the 
virulent malice of this age, it hath been 



the only cause of all her misfortunes. And, 
in conclusion, her good parts are such as 
may be expected to be harboured in a 
worthy lady that is born with all the ad- 
vantages of nature, and hath been brought 
up with all due industry and care. Con- 
sider then what a happiness it is to have 
such a wife as in her, together with all the 
other commodities of marriage, one may 
enjoy the sweetness of a full friendship, 
have the means to disburden one's self of 
all cares, in most important affairs receive 
faithful counsel, be blessed with the con- 
tent of a pleasing conversation, and whose 
very countenance will comfort one, and, 
without fears or scruples, leave the conduct 
of one's family to her known discretion, 
doubting her conscience less than one's 
own. And, on the other side, look with 
impartial eyes upon the weaknesses and 
imperfections of most women, and tell me 
whether it be not a misery, for any respect 


whatsoever, to be tied in perpetual chains 
to one of the vulgar stamp? in them one 
shall see nothing but a continual incon- 
stancy and succession of fond and vain 
humours ; and certainly, in our conversation 
with such, our loss of time can never be 
redeemed to our profit. Whosoever mar- 
rieth her that, being past her years of inno- 
cent ignorance, is beaten to the world and 
entered in the school of experience, and 
bringeth a good estate with her, shall find 
her proud, subtle, crafty, importune, and 
fastidious, and may doubt her loyalty with 
sufficient cause ; and before that age, their 
simplicity is so thick, that, besides their 
husbands beiog answerable for all their 
follies, I doubt whether the forming of 
them to one's (desire, be worth the pains 
that one must take in it. Whereas SteL- 
liana is both in the vigour of her age, to 
bear strotDg and healthful children, and to 
support the pains and travails that accom- 
T 2 


pany that condition, and hath a mind so 
moulded to my hand, as I know not in 
what part of it to desire any amendment : 
and if indiscreet unstayed youth, or rather 
childhood, have at any time cast a mist 
over her judgment, and so caused some 
innocent error in any of her actions, the 
goodness of her nature hath converted it 
into this benefit, that she is fully warned 
and armed never to incur the like : and 
then since time flieth away and leaveth 
nothing of itself behind it that we can 
really take hold of, what is done in that 
should not be considered in judging the 
nature of free and voluntary agents, so 
much as the present state of the soul and 
of the mind. It is true that in this life we 
cannot enter into the judgment of such 
substances by other means than by their 
effects, and as they express themselves in 
their exterior actions ; but withal, to keep 
us from erring, we ought to look into the 


main stock of them, the constantest, the 
latest, and those that are done upon judg- 
ment ; since, in some particular one, se- 
veral things may concur to make it seem 
of a different piece from the whole con- 
texture of one's life; and but weak con- 
jectures can be made of what one doth 
before the intellectual part is grown to his 
full strength ; for they were once brittle 
mould that are now saints ; and how full 
are all stories of men and women, whose 
natures, when they have attained to mature 
age, have differed much from what their 
younger years did promise. And let it be 
remembered that the clearest brooks that 
are, have some mud, but which will not at 
all defile the pureness of the stream if it 
be not indiscreetly stirred, and then too it 
hath so shallow a bottom, that it quickly 
slideth away. What I have said upon this 
subject, methinks, maketh it very evident 
that there is great difference in this election 


between what nature teacheth us and what 
the laws of opinion prescribe. I believe 
all wise men will esteem me the better, if I 
make mine according to the first ; and then 
whatsoever the vulgar may think of me, I 
shall certainly be much happier than they 
that censure me. The wisest man that 
ever was, setting aside those that are men- 
tioned in sacred writ, and that first reduced 
philosophy to morality, and whose life was 
conformable to his doctrine, delivereth it 
for a maxim, that to the end a man may be 
happy, he ought to permit himself some- 
times to be esteemed a fool. The actions 
Of the highest and noblest rank of men, 
move like the superior heavenly bodies, 
many times in a motion of retrogradation ; 
and as long as I can march at ease by 
myself, I will never suffer to be carried 
away from myself by the throng. I know 
the worst that can be objected against her 
whom I have made choice of, and more 


than any man else doth ; and if I err, my 
judgment will be in fault as much as my 
affection, so that I shall neither be laughed 
at for being deceived, nor pitied for mis- 
taking. Actions of this quality are to be 
condemned in them that do them through 
infirmity and weakness, but not in those 
that do them out of a superiority and 
strength of mind ; and I have so great 
confidence of myself as to think, that my 
doing a thing of this nature should, to the 
vulgar sort, warrant the goodness of it. 
The best way to judge of any action is, to 
inform one's self, first, of him that did it; 
for that may be a virtue in one man, which 
in another may be a vice. Cato and Ra- 
zias won immortal fame of virtuous forti- 
tude for killing themselves ; but many 
others that have done the like through de- 
spair, or some other unworthy passion, 
have drowned their names in perpetual 
infamy. And who will censure that vir- 


tuous Cato for his indulgence to himself, in 
drinking wine oftentimes in so large a pro- 
portion, that in a less worthy man it would 
be esteemed a great vice? He did it not 
through imbecility, but the rules that his 
judgment prescribed to himself allowed it, 
and then he valued not what others would 
censure of him for it. This I speak in 
respect of the opinion of other men, who 
should judge actions, good or bad, accord- 
ing to the grounds of them ; but, in respect 
of my own, the certain knowledge that I 
have of her worth whom I so much affect, 
doth sufficiently warrant my affection; so 
that I will never do her so much wrong as, 
in the defence of this action of mine, to 
insis't upon the quality of my judgment of 
it, wherein I may set down rules for myself 
much differing from the vulgarly received 
ones, and not to rely upon the excellency 
of her virtue, which maketh the action 
virtuous in itself. And her having lived at 


liberty and by her own guidance in the 
world, for which you tax her, methinks is 
a commendation, and she ought to be the 
more esteemed for it ; since that keeping 
herself upon fair terms amidst so many 
dangers and in that state, it is evident that 
her virtues are her own, and not con- 
strained nor dissembled, nor will ever alter 
their current. 

" But from whence do you gather that 
my endeavours to increase upon my mas- 
ter's grace and favour are slackened ? I 
am not guilty to myself of any heats or 
colds this way, nor would I that there 
should be in me. In the service of one's 
Prince, to proceed with constancy and 
temper is certainly the best and most per- 
manent ; but so as rather to engage one's 
self in the offices of public duty than by 
any other respect : for thus one shall both 
be a faithful and affectionate servant, and 
yet preserve one's own liberty, which I 


prefer much before any good fortune that 
can arrive to me ; and indeed, I value 
fortune, and measure it, not according to 
the height, but according to the facility of 
it, and this perad venture is the reason why 
in substance or titles I have not bettered 
mine. But if nobody else will trouble 
themselves upon this consideration more 
than I do myself, whom in reason it should 
import most, not one single anxious 
thought shall be cast away upon it. For 
I judge more nobly of those that neglect 
honours, than of those that seek them ; 
this elevateth them a degree above what 
the others aim at ; and I have set down my 
rest, where piety forbiddeth not, to live 
according to nature, then it is in my own 
power to make myself happy and to give 
good to myself. I am above fortune, 
which others have need of; I can reduce 
my occasions to what is in my power; 
mores cuique suifingunt fortunam, and thus 


I shall neither fear nor desire any thing : 
which two passions are the greatest tor- 
ments in this life, and bring the mind into 
greatest servitude. But with all this, I 
am not such an enemy to an active life, 
or to honours if they were offered me, but 
that I would then accept of them, and 
avoid no employment for the dangers or 
troubles that may accompany them, if by 
my being so employed and advanced I 
may become fitter to do service to my 
Prince, my country, and friends ; which 
being so, my other affection will be no im- 
pediment to my undertaking any public 
and great action when I shall see a fit sea- 
son, and that good is likely to result of it, 
although I must confess that retiredness 
would afford me much more solid content, 
especially in these depraved times; and it 
cannot keep me back from them by les- 
sening me in the esteem of my master, 
since he cannot choose but think well of 


that man who sheweth such an effect of his 
loyalty and good nature, that no respects 
whatsoever can make him false to her he 
loveth. And as concerning my mother, I 
wish that I may perish in that hour that I 
make light account of the filial duty that 
I owe her ; but parents would do very 
well, if they have discreet children, that in 
things mainly importing them will not 
abandon themselves, to examine thoroughly 
how far their jurisdiction reacheth before 
they stretch it to extremities. Our retri- 
bution ought to be proportionable to our 
debt, but our souls and intellectual parts 
we owe immediately to God, and therefore 
what dependeth thereon is subaltern to no - 
human jurisdiction ; so that when one is 
arrived to the full years of mature discre- 
tion, it were a kind of tyranny in a parent, 
to use more than counsel or reason in in- 
clining or diverting the child in disposing 
of himself. And howsoever she may dis- 


pose of her estate, T shall not be moved 
therewith, nor shall let it, though it were 
much more, enter into consideration with 
the content of my mind ; although this I 
may say, that I think she and all parents 
would do most wisely not to innovate nor 
alter any thing that the general laws of the 
country ordain and intend ; which cer- 
tainly, in providing for inconveniencies, 
reach farther and see deeper than any sin- 
gle judgment can ; besides that, when all 
is said, there is a reciprocal duty of pa- 
rents to children, which is enough for an 
obsequious child to have but intimated ; 
especially to a wise man. 

"Then for an advantageous match which 
you recommend to me to seek, can any be 
comparable to this, which if you consider 
the estate that she doth and may bring 
with her,' is no mean one. O the flat con- 
tents that are in marriages made for tem- 
poral conveniences ! certainly one must 


affectionately desire what one would take 
much pleasure to enjoy. In my choice 
our mutual desires will make each other 
happy, and our fervent loves will reflect 
strongly upon those that shall come of us, 
adding that increase to natural affection, 
and consequently to our joys in them ; 
who also, in all reason, will be replenished 
with the goodness and beauty of her that 
bore them. There is no man certainly 
that seeth so far as I do into these content- 
ments and blessings, but will desire them 
as vehemently as I do ; but there may be 
this difference between us, that they may 
want courage and resolution to possess 
and defend them; and I deem it a greater 
weakness to disguise one's passions than 
to entertain them. Other men's opinions 
shall never drive me from maintaining the 
rules that I have prescribed to myself; 
then since this so mainly importeth my 
happiness, I will not fail to justify myself 


to the world for giving way to my affec- 
tions ; and then, although I may not gain 
the opinion of wisdom suitable to these 
times, yet I hope I shall have the ancients 
my friends, in that I seek to get a habitude 
that breedeth full pleasure and interior 
delight, and banish far from my considera- 
tion those things that are without me, to 
the end that not being afraid of the cen- 
sures of the world, I may not drown my 
life in perpetual disquiet. But if what I 
have said to that effect, do not relish to 
other men's fantasies ; and that it be like 
too solid meat for weak stomachs and ten- 
der teeth, as the vulgar's are, I will pro- 
ceed with them in a more gentle, or rather 
submissive way ; if they will not absolve 
me, let them pardon me ; let my friends be 
so indulgent to me as to pass by this one 
action, and I will not fail their hopes or 
their desires in any thing else. Although 
I cannot persuade myself that I am in an 


error in this, yet since others believe it, it 
will make me strive to behave myself so 
in all things else, that I may rectify my- 
self in their good opinion, and, to that ef- 
fect, strain myself in virtuous actions be- 
yond what otherwise I should have done. 
If it be a fault in me, yet it would be a 
greater injustice in them to condemn all 
that may be good besides, for so small a 
mixture of the contrary ; what discreet 
man ever threw away a fair and rich gar- 
ment for having a small spot in some one 
corner of it? It importeth no man but 
himself; then it is reason that no man but 
myself should trouble himself about it; 
yet if they will still search into me, let 
them remember, that in the choice of 
friends those are to be esteemed good that 
are the 'least ill, since none are positively 
good ; and if all men have something of 
evil, let them examine the nature and 
weight of what evil is inherent to every 


one, and make their choice accordingly. 
And if herein I strive not to better myself, 
let them conceive the cause proceedeth as 
much out of my design as out of my weak- 
ness, for I have learned, and from an au- 
thor of unquestionable authority, that 
even the mending of a state is not worth 
the disordering and troubling it. And if 
I yield more to the tempest that carrieth 
me away, than some may like of, let them 
consider that a ship tossed in a violent 
storm maketh fairest weather before the 
wind ; wherefore I judge it folly for any 
man to force and strain his nature, to raise 
a civil war within himself. Besides, I 
care not for mending myself by halves : 
with me if any thing be awry, let all that 
hangeth upon that string be so too. If 
my affection be a fault, I must confess I 
cannot help it, for herein we are under the 
conduct of the stars, and then I will never 
go about to prescribe it limits ; and sure 



it is better to have some evil increased, 
than all one's good troubled. But withal 
I will say this in my own behalf, that I 
think who hath given testimony of wisdom 
in other things, shall never be accounted a 
fool for his affections when he can give 
himself a good account of them ; and they 
that live in the memory of after ages, shall 
not be judged by their loves, but by their 
other actions. Let them in me look upon 
those, and cover this, as they did in an- 
cient times that sold a good horse ; they 
covered those parts of him that were not 
essential to be observed in judging of his 
goodness, lest they might carry away the 
buyer's eye from marking the principal 
limbs, by the which they might make a 
judgment of the rest. Howsoever, since 
this may be liable to dispute, whether I 
have done well or ill, let men suspend their 
sentences till the event give the verdict 
one wav ; let them follow that wise man's 


advice that would have none judge of an- 
other's happiness till after his death ; and 
in this, censure me by the tenor of my 
future life, wherein I dare boldly promise 
to myself that, whensoever I shall avow 
her for such, she will prove an exact pat- 
tern of a virtuous wife, and I of a happy 
man; and this not through any prophetic 
revelation or credulous fantasy, but upon 
infallible grounds and the certain know- 
ledge of her nature, which is such that it 
will be my fault if she prove not as I 
would have her ; and I am confident that 
her life will belie any rumour that may have 
been spread abroad to her disadvantage by 
malicious persons, and believed by others 
that take up their opinions upon trust. 

" To end then this long, and I fear te- 
dious, discourse of mine, let me put you 
in mind, how some ancient and much es- 
teemed philosophers were of opinion, that 
a man of vigorous spirits and of a clrai 
u 2 


understanding might not only love, but 
without blame use the liberty of his own 
election and inclinations, and ought to op- 
the original rules of nature against 
vulgar laws and customs ; and that. limited 
and artificial ordinances are only for weak 
minds, who are not able to judge of things 
truly as they are by the dim light of their 
own feeble nature. And while it remain- 
eth in controversy what is best for a man 
to do, let him in the mean time at least do 
whatpleaseth him most : and for my part, 
I can never deem those humours very vain 
that are very pleasing, since content is the 
true seasoning of all other blessings, and 
that without it they are all nothing, nor 
guide my actions by other men's censures, 
which hurt not at all when they are neg- 
lected or patiently endured, nor be af- 
flicted when they condemn me ; and thus 
I shall be free from the servitude that 
most men live in, who are more troubled 


by the opinions of evils than by their real 
essence ; and then the world shall see that 
my happiness and content is not propor- 
tioned to the estimation that they make of 
it, which will soon be forgotten and vanish 
away ; but to what I truly enjoy and feel 
in myself, which will remain with me for 
ever. And to express fully the exact cha- 
racter of my mind in this particular, give 
me leave to make use of the sententious 
poet's words, though applied to my pur- 
pose somewhat differing from his sense, 
where he saith : 

Praetulerim delirus inersque videri 

Dum mea delectent mala me, vel denique fallant, 
Quam sapere et ringi. HORAT. 

And then I will entreat them to think 
of me as I do of others ; which is, that no 
man of a competent understanding and 
judgment is to be lamented or pitied for 
finding any means, whatsoever it be, to 
please and satisfy himself." 


Aristobulus perceiving that Theageries 
had made an end of what he intended to 
say by his silence, which was accompanied 
with a modest blush that seemed to speak 
for him, that he could not teach his sense 
such a stern confidence as in his discourse 
he attributed to himself, he was beginning 
to frame a reply thereunto, and to display 
many fallacies, as he termed them, in his 
speech, which could not defend him to a 
sharp and severe judgment, and would 
only serve him to deceive himself the 
more plausibly, when their conference was 
interrupted by the coming in unto them of 
Aristobulus's solicitor of his causes, who 
being even then alighted out of his coach, 
made haste to acquaint his Lord with 
what had passed that day before the great 
judges of the kingdom, who were all pur- 
posely assembled by the king's command- 
ment, to deliver their opinions in some 
weighty point concerning his business, 


and the suit that was still depending be- 
tween his Majesty and him ; of whom, 
when Aristobulus had received the full 
information of as much as he could tell 
him, he turned to Theagenes, and to him 
expressed, with much bitterness of sense, 
the high injuries and oppressions that were 
done him, which for the present took 
away his memory of the former theme 
to the which he had eagerly bent his 
thoughts ; and Theagenes being glad of 
any occasion of diversion, and of keeping 
him from returning unto it, did, as well 
out of that respect as also out of a desire 
to inform his knowledge perfectly of his 
best friend's important affairs, desire him 
to give him leave to understand from him 
the true state that his business was in at 
present ; of which he had but rude and 
imperfect notions, by reason of his late 
absence out of the kingdom, and since his 
return his having been till now in the 


country ; which being a subject that Aris- 
tobulus was never weary to discourse of, 
he willingly condescended to his desire, 
and began in this manner. " If I should 
perish by the hand of justice, though never 
so unjustly carried, it would be some con- 
solation to me; since by that means, at the 
least, I should have a fit occasion to make 
my innocence, or rather meritoriousness, 
known to the world ; but to be consumed 
away insensibly under heavy oppression, 
and not to be able to procure that my rea- 
sons and defence may be once heard, is 
certainly the greatest affliction that can 
happen to a man of spirit ; and I have 
learned by dear experience that passive 
valour is a rarer endowment than active, 
and it is less troublesome to a generous 
nature to expose himself into hazards than 
to endure injuries ; which made me take 
the first occasion that was offered, to pro- 
duce mine into public view, and lose 


all respect since none was maintained to 
me; and that was in the time of the last 
general convocation of the three estates, 
the wrongs of subjects being at such a 
time willingly heard and redressed ; the 
cause of which assembly, as it is truly 
known to few, so I think it will not be dis- 
pleasing to you to understand from me ; 
which yet I dare not affirm to be certain, 
but I had the knowledge of it from a good 
hand, and my own distance from the court 
and the business of that maketh me that I */,/ 
[Here nearly two pages are oblite- 
rated.^ kings, that were as 

shamefully performed, he was fain to call 
an assembly of the general estates to re- 
lieve the King's wants in raising new 
forces. But the people being generally 
discontented with manifold oppressions, 
he found it not so easy a task as he ex- 
pected, to win them to what he desired : 
and during his and their altercations, I 


took hold of this opportunity to accuse 
him of transcendent crimes to that su- 
preme court of justice, having been for- 
merly kept with much industry from all 
other tribunals, and from the King him- 
self. You were a main witness to prove 
much of what I had to say, especially of 
later matters since my coming from Egypt, 
you having been the only negotiant in a 
long treaty, both between Hephaestion 
and me, and the old King and me ; with 
which good Prince you had no sooner 
brought my business upon good terms, 
but all my great and fair hopes were 
blasted by his untimely death ; of which 
Hephaestion being very apprehensive, he 
wrought so that Scanderbret and Oxicrane, 
kinsmen and dependents of his, did take 
an occasion to challenge my nephew Ro- 
gesilius and you to fight in duel, by this 
means to cause your absence at such a 
time as I might need your assistance. I 


must confess I was much troubled when I 
heard you were gone to Lepanto, the 
place appointed for your combat, and 
could have wished that your wit and sub- 
tleties had failed you when you deceived 
the watchful officers of the port, and those, 
warned too, to get passage over the seas ; 
but that part of my care, which had rela- 
tion to myself and my business, was soon 
quieted when I received the letter that 
you sent me, wherein you shewed the 
heedful affection that you had to my good, 
and did much avail me in my defence; 
which was so strong, and did so much re- 
flect upon some things of high conse- 
quence, which I could not avoid mention- 
ing, my life and honour lying at the stake, 
that soon after the producing of your let- 
ter, when I delivered in my accusations 
against Hephaestion in form, the assembly 
was abruptly dissolved, as you found it at 
your return ; when, if you had not had 


much constancy and resolution, and been 
well thought of by the King your master, 
to whom you boldly went at your first 
landing without any mediator, you had 
certainly been ruined, and accordingly 
was lamented by all your friends. For my 
part, I found no other effect of the strong 
defence of my innocency, but that it ex- 
asperated his Majesty against me, who, I 
think, was not, before that time of this to 
me unfortunate and unavoidable contesta- 
tion, evilly affected in his judgment con- 
cerning my cause ; and since, Hephaestion 
hath sought my destruction by all the 
means he could, by bringing me upon un- 
equal terms into other courts of justice, 
and sifting all my actions from the first 
day that I entered into my old master's 
service. But my innocence, or rather me- 
ritoriousness, being thus urged, I may 
speak it without ostentation, is such and 
so apparent, that at length they are forced 


to let the cause fall ; and this I now un- 
derstand to be the opinion of the judges 
that met to-day about my business, al- 
though for the accusers' honour they dare 
not publish it." 

This relation was the text of many dis- 
courses between Aristobulus and Thea- 
genes ; but it growing late they took leave 
of each other, while Theagenes, all the way 
that he was going homewards, reflected 
with anxious thoughts upon what Aristo- 
bulus had so freely, and with the spirit of a 
friend, spoken to him in his own behalf; 
and being retired into his chamber, after 
many discourses in his understanding, he 
concluded that it was necessary for him to 
employ himself in some generous action 
that might give testimony to the world 
how his affections had nothing impaired 
the nobleness of his mind, nor abated the 
edge of his active and vigorous spirits, nor 
that any private engagements should in 

302 P It 1 V ATE M E M 1 11 S . 

him be a warrant to idleness. Whereupon 
he resolved to undertake speedily some- 
thing that might tend to the King's ser- 
vice, and gain himself honour and experi- 
ence ; which when he made known to the 
King, his Majesty gave him an extraordi- 
nary and very honourable commission to 
take in hand a voyage by sea; for the 
which he made very effectual and diligent 
preparations, in such sort that all that saw 
them did from thence prognosticate good 
success of what he went about ; which 
was the cause that he had so many, and 
persons of quality, that endeared them- 
selves to be admitted into his company, 
that his greatest trouble was to defend 
himself from their importunity; whereas 
others, upon like occasion, are fain to em- 
ploy all their endeavours, and they many 
times fall short, to win men into their 
company. But his main difficulty was to 
persuade Stelliana to take his departure 


patiently, whose extreme affection made 
her very averse unto it, so that she would 
ever and anon accompany her abundant 
tears with such words as these. "Is it pos- 
sible that the day can come wherein my 
sight doth offend your eyes, or that you 
should find such amiableness in dangers 
and tempests, as for the gaining of them 
to hate my presence? What sin have I 
committed to alienate me from your affec- 
tion, or rather, what have I not done to 
win and preserve it? O my unhappy con- 
dition, and beyond all others most misera- 
ble, that dependeth upon the inconstancy 
and mutability of others* minds, which, as 
it changeth, I am still engaged in new 
causes of deep sorrow ! If not for my sake, 
yet let this innocent part of you persuade 
you not to leave him a distressed orphan, 
and me a desolate widow, to lament your 
long, or peradventure perpetual absence. 
Consider that although heretofore it 


in your single power to dispose of your- 
self, yet now I have an interest in you, 
which I will never be so cruel to myself as 
to relinquish; and without my consent, 
you infringe the eternal laws of justice to 
undertake such an action, and therefore 
have reason to expect from above rather 
heavy judgments than blessings to accom- 
pany it." Much to this effect she spoke, 
issuing from a heart deeply wounded with 
affection and grief; while Theagenes felt 
in himself the en chanting effects of a beau- 
tiful and beloved woman's tears, and had 
his soul almost fettered in the golden 
chain that came from her fair lips, which 
he no sooner was aware of, but the sense 
of his honour came to his thoughts, and 
banished all weak tenderness out of his 
heart, so that he remained unmoveable in 
his resolutions, although he could not 
choose but grieve extremely at her sorrow, 
whom he loved above all temporal re- 


spects, and make use of all the arguments 
that he could bethink himself, to induce 
her to endure his short absence with pa- 
tience, and that might serve for her con- 
solation ; acquainting her with the motives 
that induced him to undertake this vov- 


age, and making her see that although for 
the present it might be troublesome to her 
to endure, yet that hereafter it would be 
the cause of both their complete happi- 
ness, since that he was resolved to retire 
himself to a private life, where, removed 
from the cumbersome distractions of the 
court or city, he might without any inter- 
ruption enjoy the quiet blessings of her 
sweet conversation, and would then attend 
to nothing but to love, to ease, and to 
tranquillity : but that if he should do it 
abruptly and of a sudden, it could not be 
without the impeachment of his honour 
and worldly dignity ; and that therefore 
he chose this way to make a leisurely, 


secure, and honourable retreat, and as it 
were with displayed ensigns, which, after 
such an action that would give testimony 
of his courage and resolution, all men 
would say to be made through judgment 
and highness of a mind despising what the 
vulgar holdeth most dear and in greatest 
admiration, and not through a weak, 
shameful, lazy, or uxorious humour ; and 
therefore he desired her that she would 
not with her sorrow give him the sad pre- 
sage of some great ensuing disaster. Upon 
which discourse of his, although Stelliana 
could not so suddenly wean her heart 
from the sense of passionate grief, yet her 
discretion taught her to contain the ex- 
pression of it, and by affording her con- 
sent to what he had resolved upon, shewed 
how her will depended wholly upon his, 
howsoever her desires and affections might 
be repugnant to it when she considered 
any danger he might incur. 


Theagenes then having with incredible 
diligence got all things in readiness for 
his voyage, and with equal constancy and 
magnanimity overcome the many diffi- 
culties and oppositions that occurred to 
him, some of them wrought by a powerful 
envious hand, as well as by the malignity 
of fortune, which most men thought would 
have disordered and overthrown his de- 
signs; and having taken leave of all his 
friends, the last whom he visited, as he was 
going aboard his ship, was Aristobulus, 
who then desired him to inform him truly 
and free from suspense, whether he were 
married or no: because that, he said, his 
great familiarity with Stelliana, and her en- 
tertaining of it, did make most men believe 
he was, and yet his not public avowing it 
did make him doubt it. Whereupon 
Theagenes acknowledged ingenuously that 
he was, but that if he had not asked him 
he would not have told it him, since it was 

x <2 


against his disposition to be the deliverer 
of news to his friends that would be dis- 
pleasing to them, and he apparently saw 
that he did not approve of this match ; 
and that the reason why he did not at the 
first publicly avow it to the world were 
many, as the interests of estate, both in 
respect of her friends and his own, wherein 
it imported him much to have some things 
settled before it should be certainly 
known ; and that his familiarity with her 
which held mens' opinions in suspense and 

doubt [Here two pages are 

obliterated. ~\ 

All which being understood by Aristo- 
bulus, he told him that the same friendly 
affection which had formerly moved him 
to dissuade him from this match, did now 
call upon him to co-operate with his ends 
and to do him service as much as he could ; 
therefore he bade him rest confident that 
in the time of his absence he would pay 


to his wife the same respect that he had 
ever done to him, and would employ his 
best talents to justify his action and to 
make others approve it. For the which 
Theagenes rendered him condign thanks, 
and at his parting from him, entreated him 
to believe that he would behave himself 
in such sort in this voyage, that howsoever 
fortune might deal with him, he would be 
sure to win himself honour, without a good 
share of which he would never return : 
and that although she should do her worst 
to him, he would triumph over it all with 
a glorious death. After which being 
spoken, he went into his coach, to go to 
the port where his ships stayed in readiness 
for him, and wanted only his presence and 
a fair wind to set sail ; which he brought 
with him, that gave liberty to many other 
vessels that had been a long time wind- 
bound there: and tiie same day that he 
embarked himself, he had news by a post 


sent on purpose to him, of his wife's 
delivery of a second and hopeful 1 son, 
whereupon he gave order to her to conceal 
their marriage no longer. So that from 
these auspicious beginnings he might have 
taken to himself the presage of successful 
proceedings; but the envious arbiter of 
men's actions, who will suffer one in this 
life to taste nothing pure, did all of a 
sudden so overwhelm this prosperous en- 
trance with a sea of bitterness, that from 
the strange difference of estate which 
twenty days caused in Theagenes's fleet, 
one might see too evidently how uncon- 
stantly she moveth her wheel ; for he had 
been but a while at sea, when with a settled 
contrary wind, there came among his men 
such a violent pestilential disease, and 
raged with such fury, that in a few 
days he was reduced to such extremity 
that there were scarce men enough upon 
any important occasion to trim the sails. 


For the nature of it being such, that from 
those who were infected with it, it took 
hold of others that were in perfect health, 
Jike fire when it is joined to combustible 
matter, if they did but come within dis- 
tance of each other's breath, or touch any 
part of their garments, it came to pass 
that in a very short time almost all were 
possessed with it, by reason of the great 
number of men enclosed in a small room ; 
and although every one strived to avoid 
those that were sick, whereby they died in 
much desolation without any help, yet the 
infection was so rooted in the ship that 
they could not fly from it : and if natural 
affection to his friend or charity moved 
any one to be so tender as to do another 
the offices belonging to a sick man, many 
times with a sudden death he prevented 
the other's languishing one; and by this 
means it happened often that dead bodies 
lay many days in their cabins and hamacas, 


nobody daring to go overlook them, and 
much less to throw the noisome car- 
cases overboard, until their intolerable 
stink discovered them : but sometimes 
there were of mean fellows that would come 
to steal what they found about the bodies 
of those that were of better quality, and 
then by their own sudden death in the 
same place, they would bewray their theft. 
But that which of all others seemed to 
cause most compassion, was the furious 
madness of most of those who were near 
their end,, the sickness then taking their 
brain ; and those were in so great 
abundance that there were scarce men 
enough to keep them from running over- 
board, or from creeping out of the ports, 
the extreme heat of their disease being 
such that they desired all refreshings, and 
their depraved fantasy made them believe 
the sea to be a spacious and pleasant green 
meadow. This extremity of evil taught 


the meanest rank of people what the no- 
blest of philosophy can scarcely do to the 
most elevated minds, that is, a most resu- 
pine patience in their sufferance; the 
familiarity and inevitableness of which 
made them in the end not to apprehend or 
fear it. But then all the principal officers 
of the fleet, that were more sensible of the 
loss of the whole than of their own danger, 
came with one consent to Theagenes, to 
represent to him how it was impossible for 
him to keep the sea and subsist many 
hours Jonger, since the mortality was now 
grown very great, and that there were 
scarce whole men enough to sail his ship, 
and the quality of the sickness was so ma- 
lignant, that they whom in the morning 
one would have judged most healthful were 
many times dispatched into the other world 
before night ; therefore they advised and 
besought him to bear up the helm and 
return home, deeming it much better rather 


to bring the ships back, although the 
voyage were overthrown, than through an 
indiscreet obstinacy to let them, and all in 
them, perish in the sea. But Theagenes, 
that had a much deeper sense of his ho- 
nour than of his life and safety, and yet 
was so highly compassionate of their great 
evils that he prayed continually, that all 
the punishments for his or their sins due 
unto the divine justice^ might fall upon his 
single head, represented to them how in 
probability the worst counsel they could 
take would be to return home, since that 
was now the farthest place of distance that 
they could go unto, and the long hanging 
of the winds contrary, was an evident sign 
that they would shortly veer about to their 
advantage, that way also being their natural 
and constant course. Wherefore he told 
them absolutely, that he would expect 
with patience the happy hour of a fair 
gale, and desired them no longer to 


persuade him to do what he had set his 
rest upon that he would not ; but to concur 
with him in prayer to the superior powers 
to favour their designs as they were ho- 
nourable and just. And within a few hours, 
God having sufficiently tried their patience 
and constancy, the unconstant element 
filled his sails with prosperous breath, and 
he did put into Rhodes to relieve his men 
and take in supplies of many things that 
were wanting. Where during his stay he 
temporised so discreetly with the headiness 
of that barbarous people, and wrought 
himself so much into their good opinion 
and affection, that he not only procured 
for himself all that he stood in need of, but 
settled a very good correspendence between 
the state of Morea and them, which before 
was upon exceeding bad terms, and yet 
imported the Moreans much, and redeemed 
many Morean captives that had lived there 
ii long time in miserable servitude. After 


which he did put to sea again, in prosecu- 
tion of his former design, which was of a 
high consequence to the King his master's 
service, it being to interrupt the great 
trade of the Athenians in Syria and Egypt 
for silks and other commodities which 
those countries yield, that by this means 
the Moreans might gain it, and make their 
country the staple for the manufacture and 
vent of so rich a traffic. And by the way 
as he sailed on, he met with sundry vessels 
upon the sea, whom he stayed and exa- 
mined, and with them all shewed singular 
examples of justice; and particularly with 
those that were enemies, of humanity and 
clemency. But when he came to Alexan- 
dretta, where was the period of his design, 
he found there a great strength of Athenian 
vessels, and some Cyprian ones, that did not 
content themselves with saying that they 
would defend their companions and friends, 
there being a straight league Athens and 


Cyprus, but also warned him to go imme- 
diately out of the port, or otherwise they 
would sink his ships; so presumptuously 
confident they were of their formidable 
vessels, which were made with such admi- 
rable force and art, that until this hour no 
ships durst ever attempt to resist them. 
But Theagenes, that thought valiant deeds 
would be the best answer to their vain 
words, and that, doubting such entertain- 
ment, had made exact preparations for a 
fight, as one that, deemed caution with 
valour to be the first step to victory ; call- 
ing his chief men together, made an oration 
to them, such a one as the shortness of the 
time permitted, calling to their minds their 
past victories that they had gloriously ob- 
tained together, and how they had been 
absolute lords of the sea in all places 
where yet they came ; and representing to 
them how their enemies had nothing but a 
loud airy name, not won by any proper 


merit, but given to the force of their vessels, 
which would be of no effect if not well ma- 
naged, and would only serve to add glory 
to his victory ; whereas they had all won 
honour by their heroic actions, and every 
one of them deserved to command a navy; 
and the vast multitude of his enemies would 
but beget confusion, whereas he knew the 
names and worth of every one of his, and 
they were all trained up to his discipline 
and to the sudden and true understanding 
of his commands; and therefore bade them 
go on to a certain conquest, praying God 
that if himself were here to end his life, 
yet his fleet might return safe home, and 
he be brought back not in a funeral 
but in a triumphal pomp. Which being 
spoken with notable vigour and alacrity of 
courage, that was enough to assure the 
faintest heart, he begun the charge with 
his own admiral ship against that of the 
enemy's, and in like manner every one of 


his fleet took to task an adversary, who did 
not long hold out, but after the loss of 
many men, and their vessels being upon 
terms of sinking, if the fight had continued 
any longer to keep them from mending 
their leaks, wherein it appeared what dis- 
creet fury could do against men that had 
more confidence in their floating castles 
and in their multitude than in their own 
virtue. The Cyprians sent an humble mes- 
sage to beg a shameful peace ; and at the 
same instant he boarded and took by force 
the Athenian vessels, so that in a few hours 
he got a glorious victory, and gave testi- 
mony to the world, that a discreet and 
stayed valour is not to be resisted in what 
it undertaketh, although at the first sight it 
may seem to attempt things with much 


IF these loose papers should have the 
fortune to fall into any man's hands, to the 
which they were never designed, I desire 
that this last scrawl may beg pardon for 
the rest; all which I am so far from justi- 
fying, that I know the only way to preserve 
me from censure, is the not owning of them. 
But since the remembrance of the original 
cause that hath drawn these lines from me, 
is so sweet, that I cannot choose but 
nourish whatsoever refresheth it in me, 
which appeared in that I had not the 
power to sacrifice these trifles in the fire, 
whereunto my judgment had condemned 
them; and that if ever they come to be 
seen by any, their author and scope cannot 


choose but be known, my follies being 
therein so lively expressed, that no hand 
but my own could have traced them so 
exactly, I will ingenuously confess how 1 
came to spend any time upon so vain a 
subject, hoping that I may in some mea- 
sure be excused when it shall be known 
that in the weaving of this loose web, 
which was done without any art or care, I 
employed only the few empty spaces of 
tedious hours, which would have been in 
danger to have been worse rilled if I had 
not taken hold of this occasion of diversion, 
which my continual thoughts administered 
me. You that read, then, may take notice 
that after a long and violent storm, which 
took me between Rhodes and Candie, and 
separated from me all the vessels of my 
fleet, it was my misfortune to fall in with 
the island of Milo ; where, while I stayed 
to mend the defects of a leaky ship, and 


to expect the relics of the tempest's fury, 
I was courteously invited ashore by a per- 
son of quality of that place; whereunto, 
when I had settled my important business 
in a good train, I willingly condescended, 
being very confident of the friendliness of 
that people, but more in the strength that 
I had there, which was such, that they had 
more reason to beware doing me any 
displeasure, than I to fear any attempt of 
theirs ; and hoping, that through the plea- 
santness of that place and the conveniences 
of the shore, I might somewhat refresh 
myself, who was then much distempered in 
body and suffered great affliction in my 
mind. But more time passing before my 
other ships came thither to me than in 
reason I could expect, and my books, 
which use to be my faithful and never fail- 
ing companions, being all left aboard 
through the negligence, or rather mistake 


of my servant, who thought I would not 
have stayed longer than one night ashore, 
I passed my time there with much solitude, 
and my best entertainment was with my 
own thoughts ; which being contrary to 
the manner of most men, unless it be when 
melancholy hath seized their minds, who 
deem no state delightful that is not quick- 
ened by exterior pleasures, I soon perceived 
that my courteous host was much troubled 
at my retirement, and omitted nothing that 
might avail to divert me from it; and 
among other things, made me a liberal 
offer to interest me in the good graces of 
several of the most noted beauties of that 
place, who in all ages have been known to 
be no niggards of their favours, which 
might peradventure have been welcomely 
accepted by another that had like me had 
youth, strength, and a long time of being 
at sea to excuse him if he had yielded 


to such a temptation. But I, that had 
fresh in my soul, the idea of so divine and 
virtuous a beauty, that others*, in balance 
with her's, did but serve to shew the weak- 
ness and misery of their sex, thought it no 
mastery to overcome it : but yet was in 
some perplexity how to refuse my friend's 
courtesy, without seeming uncivil. In the 
end, after some debate with myself, I con- 
cluded that the best way for me would 
be to pretend some serious business, which 
of necessity did call upon me to write many 
dispatches, and into several places; and 
thus, without his offence or suspicion, I 
might enjoy solitude and liberty. Indeed, 


iny pretence was not altogether a feigned 
one, many extraordinary accidents having 
involved me in several intricacies, but my 
facility of setting down on paper my low 
conceptions having been ever very great, I 
soon made an end of what concerned bu- 


siness, and then continuing my former 
method of contemplation, which I did with 
the more devotion, having overcome the 
late assault, I soon found that one's 
thoughts and mind may outwork them- 
selves by being too eagerly and too long 
fixed upon one object, and withal, many 
times the memory of some passages which 
afforded me great delight, stole unex- 
pectedly upon me, I having of long time 
before forgotten them, and being then fear- 
ful of doing the like again : which was the 
cause that having pen, ink, and paper by 
me, I deemed it both a good diversion for 
the present, and pains that would hereafter 
administer me much* content, to set down 
in writing my wandering fantasies as they 
presented themselves to me ; which I did 
suddenly in loose sheets of borrowed paper, 
and that in not so full a manner as might 
be intelligible to any other; but so that to 


me, who was thoroughly acquainted with 
all the dependencies of them, it might 
serve for an index to reduce the rest into 
my remembrance. Wherefore I give warn- 
ing beforehand, that no man hath reason 
to lose any time in perusing so trivial a 
discourse of a young and unstayed head as 
this is; which was at the first begun only 
for my own recreation, and then continued 
and since preserved only for my own pri- 
vate content. If my endeavours of keep- 
ing it from all men's view will not prevail, 
as I doubt not but they will, then 
this advertisement of mine is vain, and will 
perish in as much darkness as I desire the 
papers may they it accompanieth. But 
since no man is so sure of any thing that is 
out of himself, but that for the future some 
accident may alter or cross what he hath 
disposed, though never so probably con- 
trived, I thought fit, since that I intend to 


keep them awhile by me, to please myself 
in looking back upon my past and sweet 
errors, to say thus much in my own excuse, 
to the end that I may not be thought to 
have grown unto such a height of immo- 
desty, as to desire that my follies may after 
me remain upon record. Therefore, who- 
soever it is that may meet with this, after 
some fatal shot may have taken me out of 
the world, I entreat him to do me this 
last friendly office, to be the executioner of 
my first intentions herein, and convert 
these blotted sheets into a clear flame; 
which funeral fire will be welcome obse- 
quies to my departed soul, who till then 
will be in continual fear that the world 
may have occasion to renew the memory of 
my indiscretion, and condemn me then as 
much for want of judgment in writing, as 
formerly it hath done for too deep passion 
in my actions. For the present I will say 


no more; but will continue my prayers to 
God for a fair wind, to bring me once 
again to see that person whose memory 
begot this discourse. 


Printed by J. F. DOVF, St. John's Square. 


I Date Due ^/^ 


r\ IT O i 





^ r%ri\ 

1 / wB 


I- ' ' 




: - 

























L. B. CAT. NO. 1137 

^MrJ^tbH'^^^ 1 '^ 



. ' V ^ - Jf/ t -f\ w V;A 


University of California 


305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 Box 951388 


Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. 




SiwbH^ - ^.4j 

m^.^i: ^