Private memoirs of Sir Kenelm Digby ..

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MEMOIRS

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SIR KENELM DIGBY.

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PRIVATE MEMOIRS

OF

SIR KENELM DIGBY,

GENTLEMAN OF THE BEDCHAMBER

TO
JUMO CHARLES THE FIRST.

WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.

VOW FIRflT PUBUSHED FROM THE ORIOINA^ MANUSCRIPT,

WITB

AN INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR.

LONDON:

SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET.

1827.

HARVARD COLLEGE LIBRARY

.^

■^ -^

PREFACE.

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 beautifiil 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 difiiculty 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.

IV PREFACE.

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. 6768, is discussed, and
every particular concerning it stated, any farther
observations in this place are unnecessary.

June 1st, 1827.

LIFE

OP

SIR KENELM DIGBY.

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 chaTacter 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 successfiil
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.

b

VI INTRODUCTION.

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-

.

INTRODUCTION. Vll

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 knowii
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 6rst 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 11th of June,
1603. As his father was attainted, he says
he inherited nothing from him " but a foul

b2

VIU INTRODUCTION.

stain in his blood:*'* but such was not
strictly true ; for two of Sir Everard's ma-
nors, as well as his wife's property, having
been entailed, the crown was defeated in the
eflFort 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, whea

• p. 32.

INTRODUCTION. IX

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, ^nd 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 Walea^
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.

X INTRODUCTION.

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 bom 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.

INTRODUCTION, XI

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 r^ 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 /^:(; 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. t Ibid. tP.272.

V.

Xll INTRODUCTION.

Sir Edward Stanley, be 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

• • •

INTRODUCTION. Xlll

the eyes and thoughts of all men to ad*
miration//*

The royal alliance alluded to, occurred
in February, 1613, when she was but little
more than thirteen years of age. To
Aubrey, her detractor, wie 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 Ursa tins, one of the

• P. 21.
i Aubrey's Letters by Eminent Persons, vol. ii. p. 330,
■ote.

XIV INTUODUCTION.

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

INTRODUCTION. XV

she would ultimately consent to his suit, he
treated her with respect, though it would
appea rjthat 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, fro.m
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

XVI INTRODUCTION.

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, and
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 unkindnesses 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

INTRODUCTION. XVll

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. H^r

XVlll INTRODUCTION.

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

INTRODUCTION. XlX

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 aflFections."

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 Venetia's 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

XX INTRODUCTION.

some rustic beauty, and Venetia treated
all his subsequent efforts to obtain ber
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

INTRODUCTION, XXI

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
liave 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^

XXll INTRODUCTION.

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 employ
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

INTRODUCTION, XXUl

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, tlie 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 hedefends
Bristol with a zeal which did him honour.

On entering London, Digby informs us
he accidentially 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
tafken her counterfeit to express Venus sor^-
rowing for her beloved Adonis.'' Having
sent his servant to obtain her permission,
he waited npon her the next day, when she
explained every thing which had occurred

c 2

XXIV INTKODUCTTON.

in SO satisfactory a manner, that he was con-
vinced he had treated her with injustice, and
their attachment was renewed with increas-
ed ardoar; 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,

INTRODUCTION, XXV

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

XXVI INTRODUCTION.

^'was endowed with a most noble mind, a
sweet and virtuous disposition, a generous
heart, a full and large understandings 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, that if she had 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 earthy who is
there that can answer for his conduct

INTRODUCTION. XXVll

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

XXVlll INTRODUCTION.

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

^

INTRODUCTION. XXIX

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

XXX IN TllODUCTION.

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
Memoiritself, thatrumours, 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

INTRODUCTION. XXXI

their hobour 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 l609 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
J 600, his connexion with her could not
have commenced long before her fifteenth

^ P*^'V.oJ«S^ C03 H\*-M kJW^a^ "Y^vS^ yvTf o'UA--rN- .

XXXIl INTRODUCTION.

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

• • •

INTRODUCTION, XXXIU

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 injdivi-
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 A'^'
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

V--- r.

• V:

XXXIV INTRODUCTION.

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 unstayedyouth, 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 wanied and armed never to
incur the like;" that " what was done having
left nothing which could really be taken
bold 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 Digbj
in Ireland, having remonstrated with him

INTRODUCTION. XXXV

on the subject, be 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 his slander,andconsequently ob-
tained the reputation of" an indiscreet, rash,
and dishonest coward f 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 Sp^un he received the honour of
Knighthood, which was conferred upon
him on the 2Sd of October, 1623, at Lord

XXXVl INTRODUCTION.

Montague's house at Hinchinbroke in the
presence of Prince Charles and the Duke
of Buckingham, when the King paid him
some high comphments 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
rehef 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.

V

INTRODUCTION. XXXVll

Of his marriage, Sir Kenelni 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
sohcitor, 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

d

XXXVin INTRODUCTION.

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 suppHed 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, S Car. I. 1627, in

INTRODUCTION. XXXIX

which he is styled ** Sir Kenelm Digby,
Kot. 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 aflfection 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
Co the reader to quote in any other Ian- '
guage than his own, ^* On the accession
of Charles the First, Sir Kenelm Digbj

* FoBdera, tome xviii. p. 947*

d2

xl INTRODUCTION.

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
conceiveda 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 Illastrious Portraits.

INTRODUCTION. xU

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 put 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; arfd 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

Xlii INTRODUCTION.

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 tky action done at Seaaderoon
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

INTRODUCTION. xliu

he has given of his motive for writing it,
and his wish that it might never be read
bj others, is, perhaps, the most interesting
part 6f his lucubrations. He commences
with expressing a hope, that if by accident
the MS. should ever fall into any person's
bands 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 Ihe remembrance of so divine a
creature as his Venetia. To avoid, there-
fore, giving offence by a refusal, he pre-
tended to have manj^ dispatches to write ;

Xliv INTRODUCTION.

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 w^as, 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 thai 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

INTRODUCTION. XpV

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 Fantasies,^' 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 l632,httle is known
of Sir Kenelm Digby 's life; but upon the
death of Lord Dorchester, one of the prin-

Xlvi INTRODUCTION.

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, 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.

INTRODUCTION. xlvii

To my Honourable Friend Sir Robert Cotton, at

his home in Westminster,

Noble Sir,
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 themin 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 fidy, 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 Courts 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 tq do you all the

Xlviii INTRODUCTION.

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,

Kenelm Digby.*
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. VespasianuSf F. xiii. f. 330. origikai-.
f Printed in Aubrey's Letters.

tx

INTRODUCTION. xHx

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

I INTRODUCTION.

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. —

INTRODUCTION. li

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.

VenetisB

Edwardi Stanley Equitis Honoratiss. Ord.

Balnei (Filii Thorn®, Edwardi comitis Derbies

Filii) FilisB ac cohaeredi, ex Luci& Thomas

Comitis Northumbrise Fili& et Cohaerede,

Posuit

Kenelmus Digby Eques Auratus

Cui quatuor Peperit Filios

Kenelmum Nat. vi. Octob. mdcxxt.

Joatinem Nat. xxix. Decemb. mdcxxvii.

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

MDCXXIX.

Georgium Nat. xvii. Jan. mdcxxxii.
Nata est Decemb. xix. mdc.
Denata Maii. i. mdcxxxiii.

lii INTRODUCTION.

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

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

Insig: prseclariss. Dominae D. Veneties Digby ^
Familia Stanleyorum, Com. Darbis ex parte
Pairis, et Perciorum, Com. NortbumbricB^
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 not^

Of piety and private holiness." ^

Whilst speaking of that distinguished

INTRODirCTlON. liil

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
Virbius/^

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

SIR,

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
handy 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
a lawful claimer in the secure possession of his right,

Hv INTRODUCTION.

than this vill him of his laurel> which, when he lirt d.
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-
selfi who loved him dearly, the great value aad esteem
I have of this brave man ; the honour of bis age ; and
l^e 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 teft be-
hind him, and that I keep religiously by me to that end.
I promise myself that your goodness and fViendKness
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 recoDciled
himself to the Church of Rome; and Arch-
bishop Laud's reply to the intimation which
he had given him that such was his re&olu-

^ Harleian MSS. 4153, f. 21 . The same volume contains
amongst several other articles by Digby, a copy of a Ibng let-
ter fk'om him to Doctor Hake will, Archdeacon of Surrey, dated
London, 13th May, 1635, acknowledging the receipt of aeopy
of the last edition of the Doctor^s work, and his letter of die
27di of April, in which Sir Keaelm says '^he over-valoe^the
mean present he had presumed t» send to the Uuversiiy of
Oiferd." He then criticises HakewillV book, whieh appears
to have related lo satura) philosojAy.

INTRODUCTION. Iv

tion, is still extant. That admirable letter is
dated Lambeth^ 27th March, 1656, 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*
pie proof exists in his " Conference with a
Lady about Choice of Rehgion/' and in his
Letters to Lord George Digby, eldest so0 of
tbeEarl of Bristol, on a similar subject, both
of \rhicb trere written i» 16S8, when the for-
mer was pubifshed, but the latter were not
printed until l6dl • If however the reliance
which has been placed on the lb]rk)iring
Memoir be correct, it would appear that he
had embraced the Roman Carthoiic faitbas
early as 1633 or 1624, even if he was erer
in fact of any other religioi>, for he not only
speaks of H ib terms of approbation, and
idsifiiualfes that King Jameis's^ chief motive
fdr wishitig' the allianco between Printfe
Charles and a Princess of Spaio^ was ** to
unite his people with the rest of the ad-
joining Princes in the firm knot of con-
sciences, faith ; hoping,'" he add^, ^* thus

e2

Ivi INTRODUCTION.

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 negociate 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 tenets4

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 yhole of Digby's statement relatiye to
James the Fir8t*t religious opinions in that and the preceding
page» is very curious.

t P- 172. t P. 177, et seq.

INTRODUCTION. Ivil

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.

SIR. KENELM DIGBY's HONOUR MAINTAINED.

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.

Iviii INTRODUCTION,

Lastly* there is a temperate vadour : 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'
Oountry, 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, Wpe 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 th^ 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
Knight.

It was his chance to be invited by a Lord of France
to dine with him, whither he went accompanied with
those servants b^h^d. 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

INTKODUCTION. lix

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 tod 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 bunished fVom 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

Ix INTRODUCTION.

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 will 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 a field, 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 soon 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 not traitors dare to shevr

INTRODUCTION. -^ Ixi

tbeir faces, nor shall perplexity proceed from the great
eare 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 Athena^
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

Ixii fNTEODUCTlON.

the Protestant Clergy and Laity. Thte
Queen, anxious that the Catholics should
not be remiss in following the example, in-
duced Sir Kenelm Digby and Mr. Walter
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 isthesurest 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 this address.

INTiRODUCTION* Ixiil

Sir Kenelm was obliged to quit England,
for we learn from the publication wliich 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
appear.

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

Ixiv INTRODUCTION.

the condition that he would promise, ott
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
done.*

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 sliort of insanity to have doubted ;
for he assured his examiners that he be-

^ Commons' Journals.

INTRODUCTION. IxV

lievpd the Archbishop to be a very sincere
and learned Protestant. It is wholly im-
possible that a mind so constituted as that
pf 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 feeUngs 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

Ixvi INTRODUCTION.

nature of man's soul, out of which the ioi*'^
mortality of reasonable souls is evinced/'

In July, 1648, he lost his eldest son,
Kenehn, 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 stiU too obnoxious to
the Parliament to be permitted to remain,
and the Commons passed a reflation 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 estisiteund 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 situatioo
which he held until his death ; and, book
afterwards, he was senit by her Majesty idto
Italy on a mission to Pope innocent the
Tenth* The favour with which his Hoiif-
ness at first treated him was, according to
Aubrey, soon lost, in consequence of the
improper haughtiness and freedom whick

'■S

INTRODUCTION. Ixvil

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 hira the lie. The Pope said
he was mad ."^ Wood adds, that the cause of
the quarrel was, that Digby ^^ having made
a coUectioii of money for the afflicted Ca-
tholics in England, he was found to. be no
feithful steward in that matter/' That there
were many of Digby's actions which seem
ta justify Innocent's opinion of the state of
his intellects, has beea before hinted ; bat
as it has been judiciously remarked, the
charge of rudeness was ill suited to the
X general character of his temper and breed-
ing,^ though, if his Holiness expressed the
opinion of his iategrity which Wood im-
putes to him, there can be no difficulty in
believing that Digby would indignantly
resent such aa accusation. At other
courts io Italy he was, however, treated
with marked consideration^ as well from
his own merits as from icsipect to the
Queca his mistiess; and Lloyd asserts,
tbftt '^ of one of the Princes, whereof it is

^

Ixviii INTRODUCTION.

reported, that having no children, he was
very willing his wife should bring him a
Prince by Sir Kenehn, 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, 16495 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 Enghsh papists with that
bloody party that murdered the King in
the opposition and extirpation of mo-

* Loyal Sufferers, p. 581.

INTRODUCTION. Ixix

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
extract.

" 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. Feehng his hand
and pulse, I assured him that he was in no
consumption, nor never had been. After-

f

IXX INTRODUCTION.

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: 1 asked
Sir Kenelm 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 t?iat he had the King of
France's pass, and would return again sud-
denly. T 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 haye from those
at London any li Iteration ; for that, for my

INTRODUCTION. Ixxi

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
sovereign/'

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 1655, 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

Ixxii INTRODUCTION.

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*

• • #

INTRODUCTION* IxxHl

mark, that " it is verj^ 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 ^ the religious tenets of that mo-
narch differed but little from those of his
mother, the onJy 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 Cronv-

Ixxiv INTRODUCTION.

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 l660 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-.

..'*#j- \

INTRODUCTION. IxXV

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
supposed.

Digby did not long survive the Restora-
tion, nor did he receive any pohtical 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
Councilj 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 laboratorv thcie. I think he died
in this house. — scd Qu."

IxXVi INTRODUCTION.

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 bis executing his inten-
tion, and he died in a violent paroxym on
his birth-day, the 11th 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.

INTRODUCTION. Ixxvii

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 poUteness 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 inniputed to him by
Aubrey towards the Pope, which it is

Ixxviii INTRODUCTION.

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.'-

INTRODUCTION. Ixxix

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 ^ife. Religious
zeal is, it is true, a powerful excitement,
and if he was really seduced by it into
a neglect of his temporal obhgations, there
can be little doubt that the same aberra-
tion of judgment which he evinces in the
following pages on the subject of femalQ
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

IxXX INTRODUCTION.

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 hi» 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 pubhcation
of the Manuscripts.

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

INTRODUCTION. Ixxxi

Kenelm caused to be collected at the ex-
pense of a thousand pounds, as well out of
private memorials as from public histories i;^*-*-^^^
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,'' &c. 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.

Ixxxii INTRODUCTION.

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 impressiveproof of his regard
for her memory than a volume of professions.
Sir Kenelm 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

INTRODUCTION. IxXXlll

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 droit d'aubaine. It was sold
by the person to whom His Majesty g?ive it
for 10,000 crowns, and was purchased by the

Ixxxiv INTRODUCTION.

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,
Skiird in six tongues, and learned in all the arts.
Bom 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 7th of
July, 1648. He died unmarried.

II. John. W"-:Ofc.^Wr, r.?.-}

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

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

INTRODUCTION. IxXXV

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 Edward Longuevilleof Wol-
verton in Buckinghamshire, Bart, by whom
he had two daughters, his coheiresses;
namely, Margaret Maria, who became the
wife of Sir John Conway 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

g

IxXXvi INTRODUCTION.

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.

PRIVATE KEY

TO TIIF

MEMOIR OF SIR KENELM DIGBY.

llie names thus marked * are copied from the account of the MS. in
the Catalogue of the Harleian Msinuscripts.

PERSONS.

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,l8t Earl of Bristol.

Prince of Achaia King of Bohemia.

*Earl of Arcadia Henry Rich, Earl of Holland.

Babiliuda « • Uncertain.

•Clericus Mr. Clerk.

Mufti of Egypt Query — the Archbishop of

Toledo.

Faustina Uncertain, but Lady Venetians

governess or waiting-wo-
man.

Famelicus Uncertain.

*HephaestioH George Villiers,Duke of Buck-
ingham.

Hydaspes Uncertain.

Leodi?ius Apparently the son of the

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

Mauricana Uncertain^bot the first lady of

the bed-chamber to the
Queen of Spain.
•^ZMardontius Uncertain.

•King of Morea James the First.

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

Venetia's father; his wi^
was Lucy, daughter and
coheiress of Thomas Percy,
seventh Earl of Northum-
berland.

Ixxxviii

Nugeiilius Uncertaio.

Oxicrane Uncertain, a relation of the

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

Scanderbret • • • Uncertaio, a relation of the

Duke of Buckingham.

'^Stelliana Lady Venetia Stanley, wife of

/ Sir Kenelm Digby.

•^ 5.^ * -- /"•Thcagenes Sir Kenelm Digby.

1*^* 4 Ursatius Uncertain.

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

PLACES.

*Achaia Germany (Qohemia).

^Alexandria Madrid.

^Alexandretta Scanderoon.

Archiaepelago Uncertain.

^Attica France.

*AtheD8 Paris, but afterward used also

for French, or France.

Candle Uncertain.

*Corinth London.

•Cyprus Venice:

Egypt Spain.

•Epbeius Florence.

Greece Europe.

*Ionia Italy.

Ionian Islands Uncertaio.

Lepanto Uncertain.

Marathon Angers.

Milo Uncertain.

*Morea England.

Peloponnesus Query — Great Britain.

'Rhodes * Uncertain, perhaps Sally, or

Algiers.
♦Syria Portugal.

The town mentioned in page 85, is Blois.

«

PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

Nature, without other tutor, teacheth us
how all agents work for some precise end,
and to obtain that, do contribute all their
endeavours, andjmake 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.

2 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 ;'tte 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 &x them upon
this subject, through the desire I have had
to direct this my journey in a right way,
which ijs of so much importance, that the
least going astray out of the true path

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 3

brings a continual sickness to the roind^
and the greatest disorder, that may* be
among the senses. ; ^the t 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 due side tp. 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 gaverness, is at war
within herself, and in as much distemper
as they caa 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, frameth the sweetest and most
pleasing harmony that may be.

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

B 2

4 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 th^t

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 5

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 6t 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

6 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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,

PHIVATE MEMOIRS. 7

through the M^eakness of that sex». which i^
seldom, and almost but by miracle, capable
of so divine a thing as an assured constant
friendship, mingled with the fervent hpat
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
satiety, . •

And, besides, because that in ex&ct
friendships 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

8 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

happeneth that there is that society be-
tween them in the highest and deepest
speculations of the mind, whicli 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
communication.

If, then, I should be asked where such

PRIVATE MEMOrUS. 9

an example might be found, I must con-
fess that, besides this which I intend to
speak ofy I could urge none; which it
seemeth the Infinite Wisdom, that dis-
posethall 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 representeth 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

r »

i

«ri

, I

^

10 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 cai> 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-

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 11

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 Wis *too Tate
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 ramours, and
other the greatest difficulties and oppo-
sitions that could come to blast the bud-
ding blossoms of an infant love that hath
sipce 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

12 PRIVATE MEMOIKS.

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,

*

4

Jl-rf*. J

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 13

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 thiem through the glass of af-
fection, and to have delivered them with
partiality.

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 ;

14 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

it pleased Heaven, when she was noXmany
months old, to take her mother from. her>
deeming, as I thin^i the earth, and too
negligent a husband, not wocthy 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 «night 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 discbnten^ted thoughts
beginning to take possession of his mind,

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 15

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.fvay that he desired, he judged
it expedient t>y 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-

16 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 suff^ her to be
long without him, and the re'spect 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-
Y^^ ^ 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 17

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 aflfection-
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

18 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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
jshe 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 19

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
before.

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

20 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 21

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

22 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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-

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 23

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

24 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

v^

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 25

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, 1 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,*' rephed 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 hun^ble suit

r

^

c

>. V

\.

26 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 Ui:satius, 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 corn-

et..- *..

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 2?

posed of awfiil 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 fav6ur 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

28 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 occasion 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 29

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/' "Dost thou then,
Faustina,'' answered her lady, " think that
any of these considerations can make nje

30 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 T " Why do you say
so?" answered Stelliana. "If you could see
as far,'' quoth Faustina, *J into what concern-
eth ypu most, as they that are but lookers
on, you should not need to ask this question,
and you would not sigh all day for Tbea-
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." "Alasf" replied Stel-

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 31

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 hin^r
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

32 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 SteUiana,
"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, perad venture, deter
some, who would not be contained by

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 33

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 rielied, was the cause of
overthrowing the most generous, discreet,
worthy, and hopeful gentleman that ever
this country brought forth : to which may

34 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE memoirs: 35

more passionate by contradiction, and
the guiltiness of her conscience making
her doubt that Stelliana tow 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, with the first conveniency,
she intended tb put in action. For c6-
vetousness, that usually accompanieth aged

D 2

36 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 3?

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 SteUiana 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 t>efore she had
half ended what she had to say, he burst

38 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 that live in 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 T rephed 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 ; 1 will proclaim I love her ; and that
so much, that without her my life will be
but a curse and a vexation ; therefore make

4 •'

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 39

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

40 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

acquaiDt 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
Stelhana 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 from 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
her/'

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 41

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 oflfer that
Faustina njade him to deliver Stellianainto
his hands without any resistance or noise.
Which, to eflfect 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.

42 PRIVATE MEMOias.

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

PJRIVATE .MEMOIRS. 43

three miles out of the city, if Stelliana
could have conveniency to come then to
meet him there^. " How/' replied Stel-

hana, '^ 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 suflfered 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 , V^"^'
had most need, it retired all her faculties ;j>
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

^.v

44 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 proi-
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 45

«

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,

46 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 lengthy
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS, 4?

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 infaUible 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 StelHana,
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?

48 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 T rephed Stelliana,
after a deep sigh, '* how ill your deeds and
words sort together ! you mention love, but
perform the eflfects of extreme hatred !^ you
sue to me for life, and in a treacherous
manner liave 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

_ L

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 49

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

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 her 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

E

50 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 so 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. Wherefore 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 Steltiana met
when she came into the lodge, brought in
supper; after which, none else being; suf-

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 51

fered to come in to attend them, Ursatiua
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 gammy dew begin-
ning to fail, Ursatius asked her if she was
not tired with walking, which intimation
of retiring she taking hold of, they returiMd
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, be 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

^-.

52 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

self, as conceiviDg 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 hen
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

t .

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 53

of her garters, as before she had done of
her sheets ; and then, finding herself at
liberty in the parkf 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 wearied 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, j

when a hungry wolf came rushing out of a ^ ^V^"^ ^
wood that was close by, and, perceiving ^^:>^ "^
her by the increasing twilight, ran at her ^ V
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

54 PRIVATK iMEMOIRS.

how unsearchable is the Providence of
heaven J 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 speedilj
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
attempt.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 55

about her ; the pain of which, and loss o£
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
hini 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

56 PRIVATE MEMOIUS.

obliterated in the MSJ] " 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, Mardontius 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

.%:\'i\

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 5?

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 uncivihty 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,

58 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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*
sioD 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 wilHngly 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 59

the dear pledges of their virgin afTections.
*• 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

60 PRIVATE MEMOIKS.

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 afr-
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

PRIVAT£ MEMOIRS. 61

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 dhot 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

62 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 httle
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 nie, 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS, 63

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 ma}' 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

64 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 diflS*
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. * 65

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
Theagenes/'

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,

66 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

^

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. Gj

to novice affections. And he, now bura^
ing with imf^atience, 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 meaos
to instruct StelUana 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 .chanpi-
ber ; and then after she was in bed, and had
dismissed her servants, she read it by the
help of the watch-light, vhich stood burn-
ing by her : and being thereby instructed

E 2

68 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 riding 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

)(

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 69

obliterated.'] till being so far

got from the rest of the company ,Vho 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 Ir
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

70 PRIVATE MEMOIES.

leaden feet have crept over me, ftince I
had the blessing of seeing you/' *^You
would do too great a wrong, fairest Stel-
liana,"' answered Theagenes, " to my clear
fl^tme, 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
itito a part of you, and your goodnesit
having united you to me, I can no more
give you thanks for jtny 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 mofe
upon that affection which is already en-

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 71

tirely yours/' — "I must yield/' replied
Stelliana, ^'in the planner 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 Heaven
to witness, I have tasted of no 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 or 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 comipunicate
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

72 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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,
roust 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 hke the heavens
about their own centre, do make yourself
their object/' "Fie, fie,'* said SteHiana,
'* stop that mouth, which were it any other
but whose it is, I would call it a sacrilegious
mouth, that thus blasphemeth against the

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 73

saint that I adore/' ..And then went on

«

with the story of h# 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 Ixasperate
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*

74 PRIVATE MEMOIRS*

perience, and by variety of observations
upon sundry and new emergent occasionSf
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 wlnspers to my soul and biddetb
me take heed how I build the hopes of my
future joy and bliss upon the continuanoe

PlllVATE MEMOIRS. 75

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 fiame 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 faitfa> to a poor

u

76 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIilS. ' 77

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

78 PRIVATE MEMOIRS

hell can make me other than what I am :
which is, and in that title I most glorj
mjrself, your devoted slave/'

With these and other pleasing difi*
courses of like nature, the two happj
lovers passed that afternoon, till the set-
^ting sun going down in a cloudy 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 cc^our
their being away as the • . . . [JFVmr lines

are here obliterated.'\ she was so

&LV 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 79

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 origins^
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 rfie
miglit hope best to receive news of her

80 PRIVATE MEMOIRS,

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 hi(n 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 soUd
substance. With this precious relic about

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 81

his arm, whose least hair was sufficient to ^| ft^
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 caUed 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

82 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

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 nobihty, a poor
mean vassal of his» whose name had never

PRIVATE MEMOIUS. 83

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 goingln glory to
take a view of his army, and to crown his
wife queen with wonted jCeremony ; iri*-
tending to leave her regent in his absence.
Thus ail 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, seem^
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

84 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 princip^^
of the nobility possessed the King with
fears of his own safety, and a deep appre-

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 85

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

86 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 of force 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*

PRIVATE MEMOIRS* 87

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

88 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

jn'

PRIVATE MEMOIES. 89

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-

90 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 (lid : for those letters miscarried, and
the false news of his death was borne upon
the wings of fame with such sp^^ed, that, in
a very few days after the loss of the battle
at Mciicithon, it was known at Corinth,
where it found Stdliana 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 91

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- \^<v^
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 lanientablo 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 I" 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, I will
pardon thee, and, henceforward call thee

92 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 hfe 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 coropre-

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 93

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

94 PRIVATE MEMOIRS,

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 alt
speed, he followed her, and applied himself
to her service with all the affectionate

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 95

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

96 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 sohcitations 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«

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 97

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

u

V .'

98 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 much 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
not to him, assuring him that, of all men
then living, she did, and had most^^'eason
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

y which was begot of some fiend in hell, and

feedeth itself upon the infected breaths of

the base multitude. Fame 1 made a false

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. QQ

construction of her actions, and did spread
abroad a scandalous rumour of the fami-
liarity of Mardontius with her ; which,
perad venture, be 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 worW be-
lieve him to be dear to her that had en-
grossed to hersdf the whole heaven ^
beauty, and was, accordingly, adored by
all those that had any spark of gentleness ^
or nobleness m their hearts ; which rumour
being ^nce 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 grve any reason for

11 2

■J

100 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 havener 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

PRIYATE MEMOIRS. 101

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

102 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

much dearer than her life, won her unto :
80 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 magni6cence, all things necessary to
give an honourable solemnity to their
nuptials ; having in the mean time begged
and obtained from her, leave to have heF
picture drawn by an excellent workman ;
which, afterward, he used to shew as a
glorious trophy of her conquered • affec-
tions.

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

PUIVATB MEMOIRS. 103

to doubt or fear, plunged bim 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 Epbesus, 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

104 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 105

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

106 PRIVAT£ MEMOIRS.

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, Hke 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

PlilVATE MEMOIRS. 10?

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-hke 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
tumeth into ashes, may thy lighter and
airy parts mingle itself with the wind, and

108 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 Stelliana's
tenderer heart, if she should have then

\

PRIVATE MEMOmS.. 109

known in what plight he remained, and to
what extren)ities 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 ;

110 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

and being then some time absent at
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 coo-
versation of men ; siivce 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 lyroself from her by
his own unworthiness : from which re«o-
Itation of hers, no persuasion of ber friends,
nor humble and self-accusing repentance
of Mardontius, could draw her. For fee
then, being wakened out of his fond dream

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. Ill

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 endeavoui^ proved vain in this second
suit ; so that Stelliana not only withdrew
her good liking from him as a person u^n-
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 ;

112 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

to

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
understand.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 113

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^

114 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 aJBTord to captious persons

m

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

PRIVATB MEMOIRS. 115

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 beHt to unite his
people with the rest of the adjoining
princes in the firm knot of cofiscience^,
faith. Which yet he saw was D<)t expc>*
dient for him to do by any direct meaiM,
therefore he deemed it his best to oblige
the King of Egypt toliim, by the itiairriag«
of his son to that king's daughter : hoping
thus insemibly to bring in the genefAl
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 choie
Aristobulus, a near kinsman of Theag&ttei^
who, in the reputation of solid wisdom and
rigid honesty, advanced all the 6^her na^
bfemen that were of eoundl to him ; ai<d
from a youiigar brother, tfacrt bffd but a

I 3

116 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 ofHces, 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 efiect
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. J 1?

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-
agenesis 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.

1J8 PB1VAT£ MEMOiaS.

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 lie 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 hi9 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

PRIVATX MEMOIRS* 119

not to employ, for others' prc^t, 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 hJl
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
eitceeded most of his time, and yet was
possessed with such an ardent desire of
bettering his knowledge, that whea he
conceived he had attained to the complete
understanding of such learning as wad in
practice among them, he left his owti oa-

120 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

tive 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 121

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 yod, if you may, to
communicate the cause of it unto me; that
knowing it, if my advice 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

122 BKIVATE M£MOIB8.

them; and then it is not reason that so
desertless a consideration should draw an
unprofitable compassion from you to di8«
turb that quiet joy that your mind resteth
happy in/' " 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 worlds
which mingleth and shuffleth men's good

PBIVATE BfEMOIRS. US

and bad actioDS, 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 afllicteth 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 my
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

124 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PUIVATE MEMOIRS. 125

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, dryness and
moisture, are always equally found ; as
also in all things whatsoever of this sublu-
nary world, which, consisting of several
creatures of diiBfering 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 any
creature may possess, to wit, the power of
uniting themselves by blessed vision to
His eternal and infinite essence; the

126 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

means of attaining to the whicb» is dike
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;
but He that framed nature doth but sel*-
dou), and that for deep and mysterious
cause, interpose Himself immediately itt
any thing, but leavcth the course of at>
things to that rule which in the beginnlffgf
of things he prescribed ; that is, that kli^

PBIVATB MBMOIB8. 127

feriort should be subaltern unto and
guided by their superiors ; the heaven,
tlien, 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 Utat
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 concemeth only ourselves. Therefore,
if there be any natural and philosophical
reason to confirm the doctrine of the stars
bdfig the cause and fore-shewers of men'»
fortunes and future contingents, I shall be

128 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

glad to understand it from you ; for iii
sundry of them there concur so many save*
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 129

plenty, and dearths, and pestilence, it is
so evident to sense, that I shall not need
to speak of it ; therefore, to prove th^
future contingencies depend upon them,
which only remaineth for me to treat of, I
will say this ; that as every cause hath of
necessit}^ 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 are
out of their sphere ; what then can govern
them ? Is it blind chance, as you seemed

K

130 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

even now in some passion to intimate, thai
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 bUnd 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 131

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 sbould
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 earth, of whose infectious and

K 2

132 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 i/istruct-
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-

FRIVATB MEMOIRS. 133

sideling that the practice which depeodeth
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 dot|>
exalt my 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 nmst thank you for it/' " I per-
ceive,'' replied Theagenes, " that cour-
teous language is not confined to princes'

134 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 135

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
yotr 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

136 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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-

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 137

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 tlie 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 139

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,
bat yet never could : therefore I will
boldly do for you, whom I have reason to
afiect 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 accomphshed/' "Your authority
and credit,'' answered Theagenes, *• weigh-
eth as much with me to beget belief in
rae, as my senses can ; therefore I will now
no longer question the possibility of these

140 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 woilc
wholly anew ; when after much patience.

142 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

made Theagenes remain some time in sos*
pense; but in the end, the seeing of the
mean3 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 plac^

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 143

have heard me tell : I mean the sad cause
of my eternal sorrow, which, though I
strived to disguise yet you straight ol>-
served. Lend then your ears to the short
story of long and remediless grief : which
thus beginneth. My malevolent starsy
whom now by you instructed, I believe da
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

144 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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*
fect( r knowledge of her unworthiness and
my misery, since suspended and uncertain
th()u<yhts 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,

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 145

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

146 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 147

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 he could not

L 2

148 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 149

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

150 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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."

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 151

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

152 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 any of the interior
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 153

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 thee of it, and believe what I
have said of Stelliana'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-

154 PRIVATE MBMOIRS.

chased in him a greater confidence in the
rest that he had said : for after Theagenes
had enibarkt (i 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 155

enjoying each other, that when they came
out of the house thev 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
thenif 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

156 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

their ears to silent attention, while with
their eyes they sought to inform them-
selves where the person was that sung,
when ihey 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 nnu\c 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 scenjed 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 15?

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 Leodix ius'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 bis 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

158 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

as Leodivius's had done, as though they
had conspired to betray their masters io
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 battlci
they all came to assist him. Theagenes
then found himself in great perplexity, for
having retired to a narrow place of the

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 159

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 arti6cial 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
mislake 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 si( k 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 raigbt

160 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 t hough ts> all his spirits being
before united jn 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. l6l

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 me 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 Theageoes's breast, so
that now he dispensed his blows rather
with fury than art ; but his hand was so

M

162 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 Thear*
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 sofUy
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 hii

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. l63

at this his so great necessity, and chcosing
to cut his way through the thickest of
them, that so it might appear that he
wrought his own Hberty 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

164 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 capr 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

•

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. l65

by this means Theagenes, who received
but Httle 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
rest-

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

166 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

to her, while he lay in ambush, as you ha?e
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 Stelhana 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

PEIVATE MEMOIRS. 16?

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 negociation, 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 Hephses-
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

168 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 iit
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-

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. l69

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

170 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

ff

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
bttng 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-
phsestion 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 Hephaestion's pre-

PRIVATE M£MOIJEtS. 171

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, thatj
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 Hepheestion, 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 bait'

172 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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.

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 173

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.

174 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

13 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 175

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 Kipg and affairs
of state, I must confess ingenuously, that I
find in myself no inclination at all that
way ; and, indeed^ my education hath beeo

^

176 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 Country ;
but, certainly, I will never lose the happy
rest that I may enjoy by anxious seeking
those occasions, which, when I have lAet
withal, I may peradventure be unfit 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 177

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
ai)d onmi potent Cause of causes whom all
nations adore; wherein we are not likely
to err if we look but into our own 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. I n tbe^next place, I conceive

178 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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
tv^e 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
feasons 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 anomted, and are only Hable to bis

PEIVATE MEMOIRS. 179

immediate correction, unless peradventurcS
it be in such commonwealths where the
people have an interest, and receive their
Prince conditionally ; ands therefore, cer-r
tainly no power on earth can absolve
subjects from their due sind natural obe^
dience to them. Lastly, for other lesser
points, I conceive the safest way is to pu*
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 bim, to believe that which one i»
educated in, and not to think the wor^e of
another that is of different opinions, for nd
man would be so malicious against hi my-
self, as in so* important a business to do
against what his understanding and con^
science do dictate to him rand, for my
part^ I aiu so free from partiality that J
will confess plainly, I doubt many errors
have -crept in among uh pnncipa!ly bf
two causes; the one in tbatwhdn fnan5r

K 2

y

180 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE M£MOiaS. 181

I liave done very well if I can bring myself
upon even ternis 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

183 PRIVATE MEMOIRS

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 PrincSf 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 aqd
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 Uike 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

PB,IVAT£ MEMOIRS. 183

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 sweet^i
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 diviue
beams of beauty that shine there, I begin
to doubt that the fault proceedeth from
your mind, which, I understand, hath been

184 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 185

his words with smiles, Theagcnes 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 1 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 fa^A them
withal that retire themselves into their
sanctuary, that maketh them despise other
pleasures as being much below them. But
^because you shall not think that I make
usQ 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

186 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

sf)intiial speculations abstracted from gross
matter, and in subtle denionstralions, so
low as to employ it in making mechanical
instrunients, but when he did make use of
his knowledge in gconutry that way, he
ejected with the greatest ease that might
bci and as it were phiying, 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 187

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
glqrious 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 .oxay give over your course, pretending
the change of your affection, when, indeed,
it is the barrenness of your hopes : there-

J88 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 someearnest-
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
ftii;nr(i ; besides that, in every respect for
the mysteries of the court and of winning
ladies' atiections, wherein he had long ex-
perience with happy success, he preferred
hiniscIF n)uch before Theagenes, who was
yet scarce entered into his apprcnlissage
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 thenii are
made of gentle and yielding substance?
Certainly it supplieth for all defects, even

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 189

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 liis 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

190 PRlVATfc MEMOIRS.

clothing his servants correspohdently ; and
at any comedy or masque at the court
where she was present, he would teach hrs
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
khew 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, way soon
dispersed tlirough all Morea ; where, with
his frirnds, it wrought different effects: for
it added to SteUiana's deep sorrow, who,
though she neither hoped nor desired aiiy*-
thing for herself, so broken was her heart,
yet she felt a kind of rrpining thai another
should enjoy that phice which was once,
hcr's, and that her niisibrtuncs had made

.u:^

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. IQl

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

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

192 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

pha^stioii were the originary causes; ibr he
havincr excluded Aristobulus from the ma-
naijiiiii 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-
pha^slion having never attended to other
than courtly exercises, and to give himself
delight, and to so much of business as con-
cerned the satisfyina; of his will or aval ice,
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

PRIVATE MEMOIllS. 193

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

o

L^

194 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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
Hephaestion 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 hetirt
to make it serve only for a trophy of his
inhuman cruelty ; then by representing the

y

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 195

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 bis afiec«-
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

V

196 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 hot
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,

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 197

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
tliere, 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 whose
faith the people had little confidence, and
the like did the country throughout; so

198 PRIVATE MBMOIRS.

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 bis 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 Hepheestion knowings
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 pr^
vailed so much with 'the King, that he
made a general convocation of the three

■'LkJ

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 199

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 np
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 rea) 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

200 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 Hephasstion,
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.

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 201

and to clear, as much as in him lay, his
honour, that was much traduced in most
men's opinions, Theagenes made more
haste to Corinth than his indisposition
would well give way unto : arid 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

202 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 ao
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.

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 203

Tbeagenes was no sooner alighted at hb
lodging, but 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 majaner,
and have had their affections suspended by

204 PRIVATE MEMOIRS

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

PRIVATE MJiMOlUS. 205

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

206 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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-

>

PRIVATE MKMOIRS. 207

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 n,^
obligation of friendship is in a generous

208 PKIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 209

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.

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-

210 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 211

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

212 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 213

which before opposed this action being
now overcome, did quicken his resolution,
like water that being thrown upon a fire
that it cannot extinguish, inaketh 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

214 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 215

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,

V'^

216 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

hoping that afterward he might find a
more propitious hour for his suit ; which
to facihtate 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 217

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, apd
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.

218 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 219

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 bis
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

220 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 thdt 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 221

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 V Then after some pause,
and changing ber 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

222 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 gri^jiftiat 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-

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 223

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
them.

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 was now equally welcome on
both sides. But Theagenes, being there-

224 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 vario\is
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 22?

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

228 PRIVATE MEMOIRS,

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
height/'

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 239

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 jei 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 td 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^

t,_^-

230 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 thinks 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 iq
this life all things ought to be judged
comparatively; and as that body which
hath been afRicted 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

PaiVATE M£MOIKS. %$1

nature, though it may cause some remUsiQQ
and some kind of Felaxatiop pf the mind,
truly deserveth commendatiqns, and fton^
but unjust judges will too sharply qensu|ne
.that person for not overcoming the last, bfir
cause he was able to get the mastery of t^e
others; like the unworthy multitude that-
condemneth a Captain of trei^n, for f^-
ing in one only attempt, because he h^th
gotten so much reputation in other sucr
cessful ones, that all things appear not
only possible, but easy to him, if he Stpply
himself industriously to e^ect then^. 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 j 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. Wh^t a wieak

232 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

accusation is this! or rather is it not a
commendation? for we sec that in this
world the bad doth so exceed the good,
both in number and weight, and our na-
ture is 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 tranquilhty 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

V

/

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 233

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 hath 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

^:

,y^

234 PRIVATE ME&IOIRS.

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 Ipving 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, ^
near as they can, to conform themselves,
in all their actions, to this divine light,
of which our souls are living sparkles;

PRIVATE MBMOIB8. 235

let US examine what is the highest ope-
ration and most resembling his Creator'sy
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

236 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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-

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 33?

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 Qiake
choice of those that are lodged in female
habitations; and from her rulfis 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

a

reasonable creature; and this Iftst, which is
a gift that of his own nature must always
be bestowed, being the only thing that is

15.«

238 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

m

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 made; 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 imperfeo
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

>

y

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 239

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 such 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 jurisdiction in man, it folio weth that
to whom one giveth love, one giveth also
their will and their whok 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: itexerciseth in due manner that
superior talent that God and nature hath
given him; and by choosing a perfecter

j^'

/

240 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

object than himself to love, it exaltetb and
refineth those seeds of goodness that are in
him, and although he should not find any
completely perfect, yet this heroic efiect
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 241

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. T
hope then that you will pow no longer caU
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

*

R

342 PRIVAT£ MEMOIRS.

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 may 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 243

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 not at all
express by any words; but after a long
and profound silence on both sides, he
not thinking it good manners to oppose
farther what he saw had taken so deep a
root in his friend's heart ; and being de-
sirous to divert Theagenes from the train
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 of his
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 deKvered him
by uncertain rumour : whereupon Thea-

R 2

244 PRIVATE MEMOIRS,

genes to satisfy his curiosity, began in this
manner.

" To give you a full understanding of the
injury that was done rae, and why it was
done me, I mast 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-
Uarity ; and in the time of our most dear-
ness we never had other differences, not 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

PllIVATE MEMOIRS. 245

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 Stelliaua and Babilinda were

246 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 alar
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
soon 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 cpnquering beauty is able to

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 24?

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 SteUiana, to whom she saw they
were pleasing, and there being much
friendship between them two, and a con*
tinual famiUarity, she endeavoured what
she could to dM i^r offices on both sides.

248 PlilVATE MEMOIRS.

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
d/Bsired 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, be
would always murmur against fortune,
accuse the mahce of the times, and in-
creasing his torment, would consume him-

PRIVAT£ MEMOIRS. 249

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 plot 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

250 PHIVATli MEMOIRS.

affection into rage and desire of revenge.
Herein Hydaspes concurred with Nugen-
tius, 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 ruia
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 seemedy and
that her modesty."

i

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 351

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 FameUcus desired as much as they,
knowing that above all other things this
would most a£9ict SteUiana, 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 off, disguised
as well as I could the sense that I had of
Nugentius 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

252 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 ather
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 253

manner that he could, and then the mahce
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

254 PRIVATK MEMOIRS.

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 Joveth 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 dehvery : for the next day

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. S55

she in tended, 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 sweUing 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-

256 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 ;
and 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.

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 257

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 aU 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
done.

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

258 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEM6IRS. 259

arguments to prove what I say, than to
entreat you to look a Ht tie 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 endea^irours
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 jour having eo^ter-
tained into your breast a: servile, affection,
which, wlier.esoever itejntereth^ 4^ a qlpg to
generous spirits, ,aad(freezetb all heroic
thoughts in their very births, and over-

s 2

260 PRIVATE MEMOIRS,

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.

PRIVATE MEMOIJtS. 361

Then at length yield to reason, and let not
the world say, that all your understandidg^
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

262 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 accordmg to
the prescripts of nature and reason: yet
the affectionate reverence that I bear uoto
you, doth so waken my sense and wound it
so deeply when you pass the coddemniDg
sentence of dislike upon my actionsi 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 tb 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 363

are, and how deaf uatx) wretches' calls he
is, that is the la3t and only physician of all
our evils, I will contain myself from sighing
out such weak expressions of a, Minting
mind ; and will, in the be$t iuijanner 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 tbp
business I shall speak of, is that whereop
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

264 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 ray several and numerous conceptions
will so clog the issue, that, in striving each
to get out first, they will stifle and sufibcate
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
sufler 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.

PRIVAT£ M£MOIR8. 265

and that the deepest speculations are but
difficult trifles, if thej 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 dq;mrt
from the inward contentments that we

ft

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 becometh tedioufl,..

2d6 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MBMOIRS. 267

themselves to believe the most voices^ and
enthralliDg 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 aad
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. T, feel this in it,
that, besides the settling of a young maoVi
straying and wandering courses, it polishetfa
the mind and refioeth it by causing it to
work upon itself, and to neglect all things
that conduce not to the bciMering or to the

268 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 affectetb,
and, therefore, calleth often his passions to
a strict account before the tribunal of

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 269

reason. But, setting aside all other argu-
ments, I will confess ingenuously that I
love StelHana, 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?

270 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

Their judgments are accompanied
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
virorthy 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
spects of estate. It is a bargain in
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 271

he hath her^ which none can promise to
himself of one that he knoweUi 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 challengeth the greatest
retribution that is in one's power. A main
part of which is, to undergo any censure
fbr the beloved's Hiake ; 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 efiect timt
great work, of whom one only tear was of
power to have washed away the sins of
infinite worlds, but to G(hew his burning
love and charity to us, would be (he object
of the highest and most reproaehfiil inia-
tfiies that were ever done to any man. A
wise man should not confine himself to

272 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

what may be said of the past actions of his
wife, and we see itis 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 dispositioo,
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 jou
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 manj
friends for the present, but the commodi-
ties of it is inherited by one's children;

PRIVATE MKMOtRS. 273

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

274 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

the only cause of all her misfortunes. And,
in conclusion, her good parts are such as
may be expected to be harboured io a
worthy lady that is born with all the acU
vantages of nature, and hath been brou^t
up with all due industry and care. Coo-
sider then what a happiness it is to have
such a wife as in her, together with all the
other commodities of marriage, one maj
enjoy the sweetness of a full friendshipy
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 discretioiiy
doubting her conscience less than one's
own. And, on the other side, look witii
impartial eyes upon the weaknesses and
imperfections of most women, and tdl me
.whether it be not a misery, for any respect

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 275

whatsoever, to be tied in perpetual chains
to one of the vulgar stamp? in them one
shall see fiothing but a continual incon^
stancy and succession of fond .and vain
humours; And certainly, in our cojQversation
with such, our loss of itime can never be
redeemed to our profit Whosoever mar^
rieth her that, being past her years of inno-
cent ignoraiice, is beaten to the world and
entered in .the aohooi of experieiK^^ and
bringeth a good estate with her, shall fixid
her proud, subtle, crafty^ ioiportune, and
fastidious, and may dourbt her loyalty with
sufficient cause ; and before that age, tbeiir
simplicity is so thick, that, besides their
husbands being answerable for aiU their
follies, I rdoubt whether the formiiig of
them to one'3 desirq, be worth the pains
that one j»«st take in H. Whereas Stelr
liana is both in the vigour of her age, to
bear strong and healthful children, and to
support the>paiosand travails that accom^

T 2

276 PRIVATK MEMOIRS.

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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 277

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, raethinks, maketh it very evident
that there is great difference in this election

278 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 6rst; and then
whatsoever the vulgar may think of me, I
shall certainly be much happier than thej
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, deliverMh 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 bj
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

PRIVATE MEMOIB8. S79

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 lauded
at for being deceived » nor pitied for mis*
taking. Actions of this quality are to be I
condemned in them that do them through ;
in6rmity and weakness, bat not in those
that do them out of a superiority and ^ ^

$

strength of mind ; and I have so great \
confidence of myself as to thiak, that my
doing a thing of thia nature shouldi 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 hitn that did it ; f^
for that may be a virtue in one man, which
in another may be a vice. Cato and Ba-
zias won immortal fiime 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-

280 PRIVATE MEMOIRS,

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 be 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
insist 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 281

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

282 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 elevateih 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 giye
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 suijifigunt fortwiam^ and thus

FRIVATB MEMOIRS. 28S

I shall oeitber fear nor desire any thing :
which two passions are the greatest tor«>
ments in this Ufe, and bring the mind into

«

greatest servitude. But with all this, I
am not such an enemy to an actire 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 retiredneas
would afford me much more solid content^
especially in these depraved times; and it
cannot keep me back from them by l^s^
sening me in the esteem of my master^
since he cannot ehooB6 but think wdl of

284 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

that man who sheweth such an effect of hi
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 themsclvc s, 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*

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 285

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 roe 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 I certainly one must

286 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 affedioDy
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 coDteet-
ments and blessings, but will desire tbem
as vehemently as I do ; but there may be
this difference between us, that they may
want courage and resolution to posseM
and defend tbem ; and I deem it a greater
weakness to disguise one's passions than
to entertain them. Other men's opinioiis
shall never drive me from maintaining the
rules that I have prescribed to myself;
then since this so mainly importeth mj
happiness, I will not fail to justify myself

PBIVATE M£MaiIIS. • 287

to the world for giviog way to my aflfec-*
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 breedetli full pleasure and interior
delight, and banish far from ay considera.
tion those things that are withoust me» to
the «nd that not being afraid of 4he cen-
sures of the WQiidy I may not drown my
life in perpetual disquiet. Bat if what I
have said to that effiact, da Qot 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 wsill not absolve
me, let them pardon ne; let my fiiendsbe
so indulgent to me as 'to jxus by this cne
action, and I wiU not fitil their hopes <x
tkmv desires m any lAiing else. Althougk
I cannot persuadk mysdtf that I am in m

S88 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 iniportcth 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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 289

one, and make their choice accordingly.
And if herein I strive not to better myself,
let them conceive the cause proceedeth as
nmch 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 9 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

u

290 PRIVATE MKMOIRS.

it is better to hf\ve some evil increased^
than all one^s good troubled. But withal
I will say this in ray own behalf, that I
think who hath given testimony of wisdom
in other things, shall never be aocounted 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 «b*
cient times that sold a good horse ; thej
covered those parts of him that were oot
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. Jet men suspend their
sentences till the event give the verdict
one way ; let them follow that wise man's

PRIVATE MEMOIUS. 291

advice that would have none judge of aa^
other's happiness till after his death ; and
in this, censure me by the tenor of my
fnture 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 throu^ any prophetic
revelation or credulous fantasy, but upon
infallible grounds and tibe 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 yoti
in mind, how some ancient and much es-
teemed philosophers were of opinion, that
a man of vigorous spirits and of a clear

u 2

292 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

understanding might not only love, but
without blame use the liberty of his own
election and inclinations, and ought to op-
pose 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
what pleaseth 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 hve in, who are more troubled

FRIVATB MEMOIRS. SS^

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 Tanish
away ; but to what I truly enjoy and feel
in myself, which will remain with me foi:
ever. And to express fully the exact cha-
racter of my mind in this particular, give
me leave to make use of the sententioua
poet's words, though, applied to my por-^
pose somewhat differing from his sense,
where he

-Protulerim deliros inenque videri
DuoL mea cblectent mala me, ird deniqiM fidlanl,
Qnkm sapere et riDgi.— Horat*

And then I will entreat them to think
of me as I do of others; which is, that na
man of a competent understimding and
judgment is. to be lamented of pitied for
finding any means, whatsoever it be, to-
please and satisfy himself/^

294 PiUVATE M£MOIBS.

Aristobulus perceiving that Theageoes
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.

PRIVAT£ MEMOIRS. 29d

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 Theageaes, 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 hia
thoughts; and Th^agenes 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 be had bat 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

296 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

country ; which being a subject that Arisr
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 oppressioQj,
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 activej^
and it is less troublesome to a generous
nature to expose himself into hazards thai|
to endure injuries ; which made me take
the first occasion that was offered, to pro*>
duce mine into public view, and lose

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 297

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 dish
pleasing^to you to understand from mej
which yet I dare not affirm to be certain,
but I had the knowledge of ir 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 obUte--

rated.l 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

apB PKIVATE MEMOIKS.

took hold of this opportunity to accuse
him of transcendent crimes to that 8u«
preme court of justice, having been for-
merly kept with much industry firom 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 ; vrith
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 Ba*
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 299

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 bad to my good,
and did much avail me in my defence;
which was so strong, and did so much re-
fleet 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

300 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 masterly
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 301

to let the cause fall ; and this I now un-«
derstand to be the opinion of the judged •
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 betweep 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 PUlVATJi MExMOlKS.

him be a warrant to idleness. Whereupon
he resolved to undertake speedily BOine*
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
hhnself from their importunity; whereas
others, upon like occasion, are fain to em-
ploy all their endeavours, and they manj
times fall short, to win men into their
company. But his main difficulty was to
persuade Stelliana to take his departure

PRIVATE MBMOIRS. SOS

patiently, whose extreme affectioQ made

her very averse imto 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, bb for the gaining of them

to hate ray presenoe? What sin have I

committed to alienate me firom your afiec*

tion, or rather, what have I not done to

win and preserve it? O my nnha^y con-

dition, and beyond all othem most miaeca*^

ble, that dependeth upon the inconstancy

and mutability of others' minds, which» as

it changeth, 1 am still engaged in new

causes of deep sorrow 1 If not for my sake,

yet let this innocent part of yoo persuade

you not to leave him a distressed orphan,

and me a desolate widow, to lament your

long, or peradveature perpetual mbsenoe.

Consider that although heretofore it was

304 PKIVATi: MliMOlllS.

in your single power to dispose of 7001*-
self, yet now I have an interest in you,
which I will never be so cruel to myself as
to rehnquish; and without my consent,
you infringe the eternal laws of justice to
undertake such an action, and therefore
have reason to expect from above rathef
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 enchanting 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 un moveable in
his resolutions, although he could not
choose but grieve extremely at her sorrow,
whom he loved above all temporal re-

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 305

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 voy-
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

i

and worldly dignity; and that therefore
he chose this way to make a leisurely,

306 PBIVATE MBMOIR8.

secure, aqd honourable retreat, and as it
were with displayed ensigns, whicht af]ter
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 ; \ an4
therefore he desired her that she woul4
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 hfif
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.

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 30?

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 hie de-^
signs; and having taken leave of all his
friends, the last whom he visited, as he was
going aboard his ship, was AriBtobulus,
who then desired him to inform him truly
and free from suspense, whether be were
married or no : because that, he said, his
great familiarity with Stelliana^ and her en*
tertaining of it, did make most raren believe
he was, and yet his not pubUc avowing it
did make him doubt it. Whereupon
Theagenes acknowledged ingenuously that
he was, but that if he had not asked hiiki
he would not have told it himv since it was

X 2

308 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 pubHcly 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 Airisto-
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 309

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 dea] 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, be 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 the same day that he
embarked himself, he had news by a post

310 PRIVATE MEMOIRS

sent on purpose to him, of his wife's
delivery of a second and hopeful 80q»
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 su£fer 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 extEenodtji!;
that there were scarce men enough upon
any important occasion to thm the sails.

PRITATE MEMOIRS. 311

For the nature of it being such, that froiil
those who were infected with it, it to6k
hold of others that were in perfect health,
like fire when it is joined to combustible
matter, if thej did but come within dis-
tance of each other's breath, or touch any
part of their garments, it cam6 to pass
that in a very short time almost all Were
possessed with it, by reasoti of the great
number of men enclosed in A small room i
and although every one strivefd to avoid
those that were sick>, whereby they died iti
much desolation without atny help, yet the
infection was so rooted in the ship that
they could not fly from it : and if natural
aflfectioo to his friend or charity mo^ed
any one to be so tend^ as to do another
the offices belonging to a si<^k itf^ft, many
times with a suddeA^ deaih hd p^evetited
the other '» laiygvisbiog one; and by this
means it happened ofKn^ that diead bodied
lay many day9 in their cabins and h&ttfiittA,

312 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

nobody daring to go overlook them, and
much less to throw the noisome carr
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 313

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 longer, 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

314 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

to bring the ships back, although th6
voyage were overthrown, than through an
indiscreet obstinacy to let th6m, and all in
them, perish in the sea. But Theogenes,
that had a much deeper sense of his> bcu
nour than of his life and safety, atid yet
was so highly compassionate of their great
evils that he prayed continually, that all
the punishments for his or their sin» dud
unto the divine justice, might fall npon hui
single bead, represented to them horw in
probability the worst counsel they coald
take would be to return home, since tbfit
was now the farthest place of distance tbat
they could go unto, and the long hanging
of the winds contrary, was an evidesat dij
that they would shortly veer about to tfaeit
advantage^ tbat way also being tbeir aatinal
and constant course. Wherefore he toU
them absolutdy, that he would espect
with patience the happy houf of a fidrr
gale, and desired them no longer to

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 315

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 unconstunt element
filled his sails with prosperous breath, and
he did put into Rhodes to relieve bis men
and take in supplies of many things that
were wanting. Where during his stay he
temporised so discreetly with the headinesa
of that barbarous people^ and wrought
himself so much into their good opinion
and affection, that be not only ptocured
for himself all that he stood in need of, but
settled a very good correspendence betweeo
the state of Morea and them, whicb befote
was upon exceeding bad terms^ and yet
imported the Moreansmuch,afid redeemed
many Morean captives thai had lived tlicre
a long time in miserable servitude. Af^

316 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 singuliu:
examples of justice; and particularly with
those that were enemies, of humanity and
clemency. But when he came to Alexa.a-
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, ai^d

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 317

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

318 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

merit, but given to the force of their vessels,
which would be of no effect if not well idE'*
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 discipHne
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

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 319

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 agaiqst men that had
more confidence in their floating cf^stles
and in their multitude than in their own
virtue. The Cyprians sent an humble mes-
sage to beg a shameful peace ; ^nd at the
same instant be boarded and took by force
the Athenian ves^ejs, 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
disadvantage.

320 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 relresheth 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

/'

PRIVATE MEMOIRS, 321

choose but be known, my follies being
therein so lively expressed, that no hand
but ray own could have traced them so
exactly, I will ingenuously confess how I
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 filled 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

322 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 convediences
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 fiul-
ing companions, being all left aboard
through the negligence, or rather mistake

PRIVATE MKMOIRS. 323

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 perad venture 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

324 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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 Uberty. Indeed,
my 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-

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 325

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 themsdves 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

326 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

nie, who was thoroughly acquainted with
all the dependencies of them, it niight
serve for an index to reduce the rest into
my remembrance. Wherefore I give warn-
ing beforehand, that no man bath 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, T thought fit, since that I intend to

PRIVATE MEMOIRS. 327

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

338 PRIVATE MEMOIRS.

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

THE END.

Printed hy J. F. Dovr, St. Joliii*s Square.

... .J'.