thinke on you and you have no neede to sollicite my memory more then my affection the first is an effect of the last True friendship is alwayes attended with remembrance and those which can forget were never truely in love when wee fixe upon a worthy object wee resemble the covetous who have no lesse care to conserve then heape up treasure Insomuch that to beleeve I entertaine my selfe with you is to beleeve I love and yet however you consent to the last you tell mee you doubt the first In this I know not how to make your faith and your feare friends Be for the future more bold to employ me and think that if ever I want memory I must be very sicke the alteration should be in my temperament not my friendship If any disease should take away this faculty of my soule which onely renders me happy in your absence I assure you I would alwayes have your picture before my eyes I would employ this remedy every moment and refresh your Idea at the table But I hope I shall have no neede of this to entertaine my selfe without ceasing with a person that had no defect if she had not this to employ mee with ceremony It s enough to know that our friends want us to gaine our assistance we must not be entreated when t is sufficient to be advertised I have then reason to complaine of you and it seemes to me that you have an opinion scarce good enough of my friendship since you begge the effects with so little confidence I am very unhappy not yet to have given you cause enough to rely on me and to use me with more assurance Remember your selfe onely that if I seek occasions to serve you you should not feare to give them my interests are tyed to yours and I shall be no lesse obliged when you present mee the meanes to doe you a good turne then if I had received one All that troubles mee in this is that I cannot benefit you but by depriving my selfe of your company But it is better my inclination dispose it selfe to yours and that humane things give place to divine I love you so that I have more regard to what you gaine then that I lose Insomuch that since you desire this holy solitude you shall no longer stay here but with repugnancy follow the voyce that cals you and hearken not to that which laments you or yet speake to you of the world I approve your desire and offer you all the helpe I can bring It is in this occasion onely that I will bid you farewell without daring to complaine and without expressing other griefe then for that I cannot follow you I wish I had the liberty so to do and I would not onely offer you the favour but the company Mistris Of Your c. The XXVI Letter She desires her to beleeve that if she write not t is want of opportunity not will MAdam never feare that I forget you my soule may sooner be without thoughts then my thoughts without you but albeit I employ the better part of my time to entertaine my selfe about you I cannot finde any favourable enough to write to you It seems that fortune is jealous that I bestow all my contemplation upon you and that not being able to divert me at least shee hinders mee to testifie you the truth by my Letters I most humbly beseech you to beleeve it and to lament me rather then accuse me It is occasion I want not will I am more worthy of your compassion then your anger Cease not then to send me your news albeit you can but rarely receive mine my silence is no effect of oblivion but misfortune handle me like a prisoner on whom we bestow visits without hope to receive any If I had more liberty you should have more proofes of my affection If you doe but a little remember the past you cannot doubt it and during all my silence I am no lesse then I have beene though I cannot protest it you so often Madam Your c. The XXVI Answer Shee answers that shee can easily hope the honour of her remembrance since she possesses that of her affection and that shee is assured of her friendship whatever happen MAdam I agree to yours and since you will have it so I beleeve that you passe some part of your time to entertaine your selfe with our friendship I can easily beleeve the favour of your remembrance since you deny me not that of your love We do more oblige persons by affection then memory we may thinke indeed on troublesome things but love only delightfull since I have some part in your good grace I beleeve you will give me some in your memory After a great favour I may well expect a little one And if my imperfections cannot hinder you to love me they shal never hinder you to remember mee This is my faith and my consolation I am none of those who are alwayes in alarme when people faile of what they owe or what themselves desire I doe not regard if you write to me or not I beleeve that you faile not to serve your selfe of all occasions whereby I may receive any assurance I feare more the change of your health then of your friendship and wish you were no more subject to sicknesse then inconstancy And when I desire you more liberty It is for your owne satisfaction and that I might receive more frequent testimonies of your affection Albeit I should this would not augment the beleife I have but onely the pleasure I take to understand it Your Letters render me more content but not more constant nor more then I am Madam Your c. The XXVII Letter She complaines of her distance that she cannot hope for newes that shee can neither remember her without griefe nor forget her without ingratitude MAdam since for the future I dare scarse hope to have newes from you I must at least send you mine that you may have compassion on mee and not render my evill extreame by oblivion T is that I feare if your promises did not give me that courage which my want of merit entirely takes away Excuse me if I write thus unto you since the soveraigne remedy of my solitude is to thinke that you have promised to love me I hardly know my selfe when I consider that which not long since I possest I speake thus according to your measure and not according to my owne since t is but eight dayes for yov but a whole age for me see to what I am reduced I can neither forget you without crime nor thinke of you without griefe I must be either faulty or unhappy You have too much merit to let me be able to forget you and I too little to imagine you thinke on me Insomuch that I can neither hope without temerity nor cure my selfe without ingratitude but my Letter must be confused like my thoughts I tell you once more that I know not
great a good is no lesse worthy of our teares than the possession of our joy Those that have the knowledge of your rare qualities cannot be ignorant of our coÌ„plaints they may judge the effects by their cause Consider next if there bee any among us that doe not make vowes for your returne since it must restore alacrity to all your acquaintance And to tell you of our feare as well as our desire would it not be a wonderfull change if you should accustome your selfe to live among Barbarians and being capable of the best company confine to perpetuall solitude Remember t is two months since we have lost you and if this terme seeme long to us at Paris it cannot be short to you in the Country But this is not enough weigh in your minde that these two moneths you have not seene this faire City whereof the sole remembrance is sufficient to render other places undelightfull I thinke you doe not so much love the deserts that though our happinesse consist in your returne wee should have no ground to hope it After all this if you have lost the desire to come backe to Paris it is because you have lost your memory for not to affect a returne you must wholly forget that you have beene there Finally never was promise better kept than that wee made you not to take collations in our walkes Your faire Dutchesse is so exact in the point shee would make a conscience in the hottest season to drinke fountaine water shee hath no minde to quench her thirst being afraid to bee refresht Albeit shee might lesse incommodate herselfe without breaking promise shee dares not so much as thinke of it without scruple To bee entirely faiâ—hfull to you she will admit neither interpretation nor dispensation Hasten then your returne and if you have yet any feeling of pitty shew it to so many that doe petition you Write so much as you please your letters may asswage our evill but never cure it our sadnesse is measured by your absence Neverthelesse we can assure you that if it diminish our delight it doth not our affection especially that which I have to be Madam Your most humble c. The first Answer She Answers that besides the losse of their conversation she is vext with that of the Country and that she will never make vow of solitude while she can hope the honour of their company MAdam I must begin my Letter where you end yours to assure you that I have too great an opinion of your good will to thinke it can diminish in my absence I beleeve that my returne will not augment your friendship but your joy And that it will render you more contented not more affectionate do not imagine I speake this out of the good opinion I have of my selfe but for that I conceive of your constancy if I should judge your desire by my merit I should have little cause to lament you And if you had no other apprehension of mee than I have of my selfe you should bee without regret as I am without vanity I must then that I may beleeve you surveigh my selfe by another measure and ought to thinke that if indeed you have any greife t is because I want the blessing of your company and not you mine your charity doubtlesse gives you this feeling and did I take it otherwise I should declare no lesse presumption than you doe courtesie say what you please I am farre more worthy than you but it is of compassion and wish in that we are separated the cause of our sorrow were but equall The advantage lies on your side in being at Paris where the greatest discontent may finde diversion and the sickest soule expect some remedy I on the contrary am in a wilde Country where all familiarity is a punishment I am deprived of yours and tired with theirs who are impertinent and importune I have a double cause of paine the privation of a great good and the sufferance of a great ill You cannot be so unhappy at Paris where I left you in company good enough to make you forget mine meane while that I meete with none here which make me not sigh for yours Be it so then that when you thinke on mee it bee not without griefe this cannot equall what I suffer for so many excellent Dames I alone loose many and all you but one alone I ought to reckon the causes of my sorrow so many as you are most accomplished Ladies or rather so many as are the lovely qualities which each of you possesseth Now if we measure the greatnesse of displeasure by that of the object judge how much I suffer by what I have lost And you will grant that I have reason to seeke my consolation where you are Is there then any appearance to feare that I should enure my selfe to the Country or to thinke that I can forget you Never imagine I meane to make a vow of solitude while I dare hope the honour of your company I entertaine my selfe but too much with this good fortune whereof having at present lost the possession I thinke it would bee advantagious to have also lost the memory Neverthelesse oblivion is a remedy too injurious I have too much courage to consent to buy my content at the price of ingratitude I had rather be unfortunate than faulty I beseech you beleeve it and continue your prayers for my returne It must needs bee that either you are not in the state of grace or that your petitions are unjust seeing they obtaine so small successe I could wish that fasting and abstinence from your walkes might remedy this And that you should bee depriv'd of every pleasure that I might the sooner obtaine that of your company which I desive to possesse with as much passion as I have to bee all my life Madam Your most devoted c. The II. Letter She entertaines her with a certaine stupide fellow who is no otherwise happy but in being ignorant MAdam I must needs entertaine you with this fellow of whom you write unto me I wish he might be content I thinke he has no reason so to be hee is not happy but because hee is ignorant nor hath hee a quiet soule but because it is insensible It is no great marvell that hee is without disturbance seeing hee is without knowledge T is not to be counted a miracle if those that are blinde doe not â—eare lightning If they tremblâ— not like others they are not therein the more happy On the contrary I suppose they would have a good sight yea on condition to have it sometimes dazled You will tell mee I have read the booke you esteeme so much and that my Letter bewraies it well think what you please I beleeve there is no more danger to borrow a good thing from a booke we like than to gather fruite from a tree of our owne We do not reade them meerely for pleasure but partly for use But to returne
me so much the more as I know it perfectly above all when I thinke that at your departure you promised your selfe somewhat from our province but it is so unfruitfull that in a whole age it produceth not so much as one good thought much lesse a good Letter you will accuse mee of little affection to my Countrey since I doe thus aver her imperfections but I had rather confesse them to â—ne that hath the goodnesse to dissemble them then to sacrifice her defects to the pittiles publicke I had rather tell a particular person that she is barren then let the world see shee can produce nought but monsters however I assure you shee furnishes mee with no better reasons to defend her and I should esteeme her farre more fertile then I say if shee could afford mee any occasion to shew you how I am heartily Madam Your c. The XVIII Answer Shee thankes her for her praises and remembrance and wishes her yet lesse contentment then she hath in the Countrey that she may come and take it at Paris MAdam after the complaints you make in your Letter I must either yeeld no faith to your words or some compassion to your misfortune I doubt not but you wish for Paris but I cannot beleeve that you put the losse of my company in the ranke of afflictions I have too good an opinion of your spirit too bad of my own to think you write of me Your error would be as excessive as my good fortune should you speak of me according to your opinion And to answer this according to mine I assure you that reading your letter I am not so much astonisht at the extraordinary testimonies of your friendship as at those of your approbation esteeme This would occasion me some vanity if to humble me I did not consider t is your affection speakes not your opinion or to use better termes your judgement hath beene corrupted by your will I know those that doe me the honor to know me finde freedome and simplicity enough to merit some part of their favour but I know likewise there are not good qualities enough in my soule to deserve so many praises Iudge then how far I ought to thinke my selfe your obliged since you are not content to wish me well and doe me good above my worth but that moreover you take the paines to speake every where a thousand fold beyond my expectation If I must pitty you it shall be more for the ill you suffer in the country then for the good you left at Paris I speake of what concernes my selfe for I doubt not but you have there seene rarities enough to sad you in al your voyages but to change discourse I will end this letter in another fashion then I began If at first I promised you pitty it seemes to me at present I ought to refuse it be as melancholly as you list I wish you more I shall be very glad that you never find sweetenes in the place where you be able to lessen the sorrow you suffer for Paris that you have cause to be displeased at the country to the end you may be constraned to returne hither for your contentment aswell as ours I sweare to you that after I had read your excellent Letter I mist there but onething which is that you give mee no assurance of your returne I should answere you to other matters but I am constrained to remit this till another occasion The messenger hastes mee to close this and affords mee no more time but to assure you that I am Madam Your c. The XIX Letter She complaines thrt she hath not heard from her so oft as she expected and saith that all her boldnesse proceeds from affection MAdam if I had hoped lesse of your affection I should have received too much of your courtesie but I am so much your servant that I finde you owe me more not having written mee but one Letter in three moneths absence It is not as you promised me when I had the honour to bid you farewell I had parted from you with lesse satisfaction but for the assurance you gave to send mee more frequent tydings I speake boldly but you may without much paine put me in state to write you thanks rather then imputations which will be when I shall receive the effects of my expectation and your promise I meane when you shall no longer be covetous of your Letters It must needes be that either you have an ill opinion of mee or that you beleeve my griefe lesse then it is since you contribute so little to my consolation in so great a losse as that of your conversation If you think there are other remedies for this besides your Letters you are in an errour if you thinke them the sole remedy you are without pitty blame my presumption as long as you list it is certainely true that when I consider the affection I beare you it seemes to me I cannot too much presume the effects of yours You delight to gratifie me but I protest you shall never doe me so much good as I wish you but if you desire to know the cause of such extraordinary boldnes as mine not being able to returne you ought but wishes for effects I beseech you beleeve there is no other then the great affection I have to serve you and to be Madam Your c. The XIX Answer She answers that she is in the wrong tâ— to call her covetous of her Letters since to serve her she would be prodigall of blood and life MAdam it must needes be that you have but a weak opinion of my friendship if you think that I seeke not occasions to witnesse the truth of it If you judge I neglect the meanes to write to you you offend against my affection if you beleeve I have none you doe not complaine but blame me True it is our will depends on our selves but oft times the effects we employ to shew it depend on fortune Any misseadventure or chance may arrest my Letters by the way and if it be in my liberty to write to you it is not alwayes in my power to cause my Letters be delivered You vexe your selfe against me without reason and give me cause to be in choller since you have none how should I be covetous of my letters that would not be so of my life and my blood I beseech you beleeve this or the judgement you make of mee will give mee liberty to make the same of you And when I receive no Letters from you I shall be able to thinke you want not occasion but memory If you had a true feeling of my friendship you would not judge so ill of my remembrance I never thought you could have deemed so sinisterly of my humour So while you call me covetous of Letters I stile you prodigal of reproaches I doe not accuse your boldnes but your errour I suffer your freedome albe it I condemne your
to our man I protest I desire not such a good fortune I love better the restlessenesse of your Spirit than the tranquillity of his I speake of those noble cares which knowledge bringeth forth and of that moderate feare which serves but to awake the soule and not to trouble it The happinesse of these people whereof you write unto mee is like to that of men asleepe their spirit is quiet because it is not capable of disturbance I must make you laugh as I conclude this Letter at a comparison which perhaps you will judge a little too high for mee It seemes that men may bee set safe from the blowes of misfortune as from those of thunder by being very high or very low but in both these albeit the safety be equal the glory is not I had rather scape a tempest being on the mount Olympus then in a cave And to talke like your booke the onely one that can make mee guilty of theft I would rather choose to be above then below affliction and be thereof uncapeable by reason rather then stupidity I conclude this then beseeching you to speake no more of that matter not to pleade against your owne Interest in quitting that of great Spirits You have thereof too great a share to renounce And if I defend them I doe but praise a good which you possesse and I desire I wish as many good termes to expresse my thoughts upon this subject as I have desires to serve you and to witnesse on all occasions how much I am Madam Your most affectionate c. The second answer She endeavours to proove that those that have the least spirit have also the least molestation MAdam write what you list for great spirits it seemes to mee they have more glory then happinesse And that it is difficult to have great splendor and little care It is true they are much esteemed which outshine others Notwithstanding I thinke that with all this advantage they may be compared to the bush in holy Scripture which had much brightnesse but yet was full of thornes There are indeed many sharpe points under these glorious rayes There are many cares which knowledge encreases rather then cures Let us speake freely and not suffer our selves bee charmed by this same faire appearance As those that have a feaver would willingly be lesse sensible that they might bee lesse tormented so I beleeve the miserable would wish their knowledge diminished for to diminish their affliction In this we may speake of spirits as of the senses the most delicate do soonest feele Phisicke likewise and Philosophy doe in the same manner heale the unfortunate and the diseased The one stupifies the sense without which there is no sorrow the other endeavours to withdraw the attention without which there is no sadnesse whence you may learne that the most ignorant are the least unfortunate I deny not but there are some which lift them selves above misery and doe surmount it but I thinke these are very rare I see few that do resemble you And to tell you who they are which put themselves to most paine I beleeve they are neither the great nor the little but onely the indifferent Mee thinkes disquiet formes it selfe in the soule as clouds doe in the Aire The Sunne sometimes drawes up vapours which afterwards it can hardly disperse and these middling Spirits precipitate themselves into those cares from which they can never get free whiles great spirits overcome discontent and the lesser know it not the middle sort are intangled therein So Christianity reprobates the Luke-warme from hope of Salvation and morality rejects them in point of civill felicity These then are they which have cause to complaine And whose understanding seemes to mee unlucky since it onely serves to leade them into many Labyrinthes but not to conduct theÌ„ out Have I not then reason to thinke that those which have lesse spirit have lesse paine If there bee so few which vanquish affliction is it not sufficient that I follow the path most beaten and content my selfe by ignorance to be below evil not being able by Iudgement to lift my selfe above it Since the felicity of the lowest wits is true I care not tho it be lesse glorious then that of great sages If it be not as noble sure I am t is no lesse pure no lesse reall I speak in this my wishes not my being for albeit I am without wit I am not without perturbation I suffer the misfortune of those who have but little knowledg and am deprived of their advantage you know it well enough and I doubt not but if you endure my dispoâ—ition t is for my affections sake and the desire which I have to be Madam Your perfect servant The third Letter Shee complaines that men doe sometimes fall in love with those that deserve it least and that the deformed are very often more happy then the faire MAdam there 's no neede goe into Africke to arrive at a Country of Monsters our own produces but too many to seeke elsewhere objects of wonder In fine this young man hath marryed the old woman T is a choyce worthy of shame for himselfe of envy for many of admiration for all we are young and it is to us a strange thing to see that in our dayes she hath found a fortune so prodigious in the decline of hers And that any should fall in love with her Albeit shee wants the three goods which are thereof the ordinary cause for she is neither faire nor rich nor young I do not doubt but she hath experience sure I am she hath age enough to get it but I cannot cease to admire that any man could fancy her with all her knowledge If she deserved to be sought unto it was like some Sibil I meane to be consulted not beloved I thinke she is more fit to teach then to please and more worthy to have Schollers then Suiters what will they say of Lidian will it not seeme that he had more charity then love that he tooke her not but out of meere pitty to succour old-age If strangers finde them together they will take her for his mother not his wife I doe not yet tell you all I protest I cannot Nature gave her nothing amiable which old age could take from her Time cannot ravish away those goods shee never possest All it could doe is onely to make her more aged not more ill favoured She is rather an old deformity then woman It might well deprive her of strength but not of beauty It hath toucht nothing but her haire and by this she is a gainer since of red it is become white I speake nothing but truth although I write in choller But I ought so to proceede and there is no appearance of reason to approve that the deformed should be sued to and the faire slighted Must they which want all merit enjoy so much good fortune and our Belinde be forsaken I know well the
lesse harme to the soules of many then painting does their faces this corrupts the naturall colour and that enfeebles comâ— mon sense they rave when they thinke to discourse they become all memory and take paines to amasse much goods which they know not how to manage T is pitty to see how sometimes they be bemired they are but shreds they get they speake nothing naturally without which the richest discourses are irke some I know well there are some knowing women which being withall faire or rich doe alwaies finde approvers but meane while that flattery praises them in private truth doth often condemne them in publicke The XIII Letter She affirmes that the Gentleman commended to her merits the title of a good friend and promises to assist him in his affaires MAdam the Gallant you commend to me seemes so worthy of the title you give him and t is with so much justice you call him a good friend that in my opinion he must invent some other word more significant than this friendship to expresse his owne knowing him as I doe you need not petition me for him it had been enough only to have given me advertisement since he can so well expresse his affection to those that neede it I shall endeavour to let him see how much I desire his affaires shold prosper I will take as much paines as in my own and more care for besides the displeasure I should have not to bee fortunate in his behalfe I shold likewise suffer the misfortune not to content you that you may hope for all effects that lie in my power judge onely that three puissant reasons oblige me to serve him his owne merit the justice of his cause and the force of your recommendation which would make me undertake a meere impossibility to shew in doing him some small service what I would do for you if I could finde any favourable occasion to witnesse how much I am Madam Your c. The XIII Answer She replies that albeit the affaire recommended to her should uot succeede the obligation for her paines could never be the lesse MAdam I am not ignorant that you love the person I commended to you and that to gratifie him it were enough to let you know that hee hath neede of your favour but if it be sufficient for your friendship to be advertised it is not too much for my duty to beseech you as I doe If prayers bee superfluous because of the good you wish him they seem to me necessary because that I demand it I cannot make them too humble if I consider your condition nor too affectionate if I regard his merit The desire I have to see his matters prosper obliges me to employ all my power of recommendation If he be worthy the quality of a good friend for all others I thinke he will esteeme that of your servant for most honorable I undertake not to complement for him since he hath no neede of my helpe and that I have not in my power too many thankes to tender you for which I have cause whatever become of this affaire After you have taken all the paine you can to give us content suppose it should not succeede we shall not cease to be extreamely obliged to you wee ought not to crave that of you which depends upon chance but we shall alwayes thank you for the favour which depends on yourcare when we shall be deprived of that which depends upon fortune After Phisitians have don what they can to cure us we cease not to be bound to them albeit their potions prove unprofitable we must consider that events are not in our owne power there is nothing but the meanes and the conduct which is our owne but what neede we feare while we have reason to hope there is no likelihood that our right should remaine unknowne and your paines unsuccesfull I cannot beleeve it and am confident that the end of this businesse shall give mee new cause to serve you and to be Madam Your c. The XIIII Letter She saith that the greatest persons esteeme themselves happy to carry her Letters because of her that receives them MAdam albeit I write often I thinke you are not much troubled with the reading of my letters and that the greatest part stay by the way I am resolved to serve my selfe of all occasions to prove if any one shall bee lesse unfortunate then the rest And that I may speede I will also employ all sorts of persons and not regard if they be Knights of the holy Ghost or Marshals of France provided I may use them to carry my tidings The trouble they shall have from me shall be repaired in the satisfaction to see you And of what quality soever my messengers be they cannot thinke themselves vilified when they know the merit of her whom they oblige I demand not your assent to this since humility forbids you professe what truth publisheth to all the world I only entreate that you suffer it from me and that you receive it not amisse if after so much paine I take give to send you mine I have some hope to receive yours This is that I begge of you and to beleeve that my greatest contentment is to be able to give you testimonies of my affection It is true they are but feeble but in this I shall be more obliged if I can expresse a great friendship by little proofes and by my small services make you see a desire so great as that to be Madam Your c. The XIV Answer She saith that if persons of quality bring her letters t is because of the sender not the receiver MAdam I know not if I receive all the Letters you write me But I can assure you I alwayes receive lesse then I desire I wish you such perfect health that I cannot too oft receive the newes and if you have beene ill and I not know of it I should be extreamely displeased for having beene contented when you were not I beseech you beleeve it and to oblige me in this employ as you do all sorts of messengers of what condition soever they be When they deliver mee your Letters they all assure me that they are rightglad to obey you and I should not much wonder at their quality thogh it were yet greater I thinke they esteeme it little in respect of the service you deserve and they desire to performe I measure their desire by their duty and I beleeve that having eies and soule they have likewise that sense and respect due to such a one as your selfe I conceive they would not take such paines to bring me letters if it were another sent them They regard her that writes not her that receives They oblige me but serve you You have reason to forbeare demanding my assent when you say the contrary since you know well that duty bids mee deny it my refuse is just because your prayer is not And if civility bindes you to
gainesay at lest let truth make you believe it T is a humility of a high straine whereof your Letter is full You are not content to attribute to others the services done onely to your selfe but you tell me likewise that all the proofes of your friendship are feeble If you thinke so it is rather for the good you wish mee then what I merit You consider lesse what I am worth then what I neede Finally entreate me not to suffer the importunity of your Letters there is nothing but this forme of speech which I cannot suffer You are the object of my consolation not my patience entertaine me no more with this word of respect and remember rather the quality of my friendship then of my fortune I wish that this might serve in any thing to testify the other give mee onely occasions to shew you the truth of it and you shall know in what manner I desire to meete those by which I may be able to make you see how I am Madam Your c. The XV. Letter She tels her that one of her friends intends to become religious and that she is resolved to follow her MAdam I must tell you news no lesse unpleasing to your selfe then me Mistris Lucinde speakes no more but of religion and the cloysters all her entertainement is the contempt of the world and she reades nothing but introductions to a devout life There is nothing to change but her habit her face and her soule are done already She carries her eyes like those that weare the vaile not a looke of hers but preaches penitence I know not what her opinion is but it should not be very reasonable If she thought it impossible to finish her salvation but in the cloysters It may be also done in the world and as a pearle in the bottome of the Sea is not debarred the dew that formes it so though we be at Court and in company our soule is as capable of grace Truely to forsake the world wee neede but retire our thoughts and our desires Our better part may be in Heaven whiles our grosser part remaines in earth Though we sometimes see the starres in the bottome of the water they cease not to be fixed to their spheares It is but their shadow here below really they are in heaven T is so with the just whose conversation is among the Saints albeit he live among the profane But not to dissemble will you that I tell you the change which hers causeth in my soule If she quit not the designe shee hath to forsake the world I shall mine to tarry there I tooke indeed some delight therein but since it was for love of her she shal carry away the effect with the cause I must wholly follow her to be content you will tell me perhaps this is not to renounce the world but to seek the world where it is not that it is an effect of friendship not devotion and that to run after her into the cloysters is not to seeke God but Lucinde It imports nothing it may be having begun to be religious by complacency I shall be so by affection God will touch me more powerfully A tempest may sometimâ—s cast us upon a countrey where afterwards we freely chose to inhabit A beginning full of constraint may afterwards be followed by a progresse full of liberty And what ever come on it follow her I will This is my inviolable purpose and that to be all my life Madam Your c. The XV. Answer She replies that this newâ—s doth lesse astonish then rejoyce her and that she will make on to quit the world MAdam you are deceived if you thinke your Letter hath surprized mee it brings me lesse astonishment then joy The good newes is double which I learne the change of Lucinde and your owne As far as I conceive your friendship would carry you along with her aswell else where as to a cloyster Your resolution is good you neede onely change the cause doeing that for the love of God which you intend to doe for the creature But I bring you newes which perhaps you looke not for If you be two I promise you to make the third It is not new to me to have a great distaste of vanities I had not stayed so long to abandon them but for the great griefe I had to lose your company Now by Gods grace all the cords are broken and I perceive nothing that hinders the effect of my resolution after that you have made Never change it what ever be said to you Suffer your selfe to be carryed out of a place where there is neither felicity nor vertue So I speake of the world where pleasures are imaginary misfortunes reall but grant there be some solid goods they are alwaies small in respect of those in heaven If wee believe as wee should the joyes of eternity there would be many more that would contemne those of the present Believe me and you will avow that I say cannot come but froÌ„ one that honors you infinitely and which is in good earnest Madam Your c. The XVI Letter She complaines of the ignorance of the Countrey and saith that they cannot judge of good bookes MAdam there was company with us when we received the curious book you sent I wish you had been here to observe the opinions of the Countrey they are either grosse or false To praise an excellent peece they content themselves to say t is very trimme There was a dame you know that would esteeme no other book but the Quadrams of Hibrac Another made no bones to begge that we received without giving her selfâ— the patience to stay till we had lookt upon it T is notwithstanding the first time that ever we saw her And judge what wee ought to feare or hope from such an acquaintance we must use our selves to this manner of life since here t is most common Thinke into what country you have sent honest F. to make lessons of morality Count it not strange if they give him not the approbation hee deserves and if hee be no better received in this Countrey then those that preach the Gospell among Turkes At least you ought to be assured that there are two wâ—ll make a speciall esteeme of him wee will learne him by heart my sister and my selfe And wee shall finde memory enough to retaine him If wee have not judgmeÌ„t enough to understand him for my part I finde him so full of choyse things that not to know all were to injure the author That which I find there extraordinary is that in reading we meet alacrity with instruction whereas others do but make us sad Insomuch that this advantage is gotten not onely to become more knowing but more content This booke corrects the humour aswell as instructs the soule And we have either of us given it a name my sister cals it her schoole and I my consolation There is but one misfortune which is that we cannot
pitty to others you shew too little to your selfe Remember what you were wont to say touching the death of Lucretia you thought men could not justifie her murther And what did she to her body you doe not to your soule doe you thinke that one is lesse homicide that kils himselfe in five dayes then in an houre doe not that with voluntary griefe shee did with her owne hand And what is it to purpose if the weapons wee use to take away life be visible or not if the shortest death bee sweetest judge what is that you cause your selfe by a sadnesse too affected I know well the losse of our friends doth touch us I would not remove the sense but the errour and if we must give any thing to nature wee must yet give more to reason but I correct my selfe it is not so much nature thâ—t makes us to weepe excessiuely as opinion since there is no time wherin noble spirits shold not aspire to felicity what shew of reason is there that to gaine the glory of loving well a man should racke and torment himselfe True it is that passions there are whereof we forbid but the excesse but for sorrow wee should take away the very use it selfe and not serve our selves of it but for repentance In all things else it is superfluous and indeede perilous I doe notwithstanding much admire if shee bee often Mistresse of our soule since no body doth resist her I say more since wee detaine her spight of those that offer remedy Call to minde that shee is unprofitable to the dead dangerous to the living and may take life from those that have it not restore it to those have lost it shee pushes into the grave but never draws back any And to behold these lamentable effects take onely your glasse you may guesse the ill it does your soule by that it does your face Never did sorrow doe so much mischiefe as yours seeing it ruines at once two of the fairest things in the world your disposition and your beauty judge now if we have cause to complaine and if your melancholly ought not to be a just cause of ours think on this and consider how many you make weepe whilest you lament but one You see what I might write and yet account not my letter necessary I speake rather to your memory then your judgement and this is not to instruct but call to mind those lessons you give to others and would be at present usefull to your selfe I must now say to your soule as to sicke Phisitians that shee heale her selfe But I feare least it be spoken as unprofitably to you as them for if the sicknesse of the body takes away knowledge much more that of the soule NeveÌ„rthelesse I will hope better and beleeve you will not alwayes take pleasure to hug an ill whereof you may heale your selfe At least I thinke you will interrupt a little your teares if you open your eies to consider her that prayes you it is Madam Your c. The XXX Letter She rejoyces at the newes of her returns and professes no lesse feeling for her then her owne sister MAdam to judge with what conâ—entment I learnt the newes of your returne you neede but thinke with what passion I desired it Chorinde shall witnesse it and I beleeve that she will not boast to have shed more teares or made more prayers then I during your absence Let her say what she will if she be nearer to you by reason of blood I am then her by inclination the one is aswell a linke of nature as the other this is it you shold consider if you will not make me as unhappy as I am affectionate in what concernes you Let her esteeme that quality of sister I rather love that of my Mistris I am very glad to be lesse oâ—kin and more distanced in blood to be more neare by our alliance I rejoyce that nature obliges you to have more friendship for her that there may remaine more love for me I have spoken enough of my affection let us now speake of the griefe it produceth Verily if I had not learnd the newes of your returne my misfortune could no longer linger the possession of this good without advancing the end of my life If you againe make such voyages I will make my will before I bid you farewel â—nd ceasing to see you will practise the same ceremonies â—hey doe in ceasing to live I â—ssure you of it and this is no esse true then the affection which I have to be Madam Your c. The XXX Answer She assures her of her remembrance and her returne MAdam the onely consolation I have amongst a thousand occasions of sufferance which present themselves but too much in the Countrey where I am is the hope I have to see you And if you aske me of my entertainement I assure you the best and most ordinary I have is the remembrance of yours T is this which serves me for a counter poyson after that of many troublesome guests whom one cannot put off without making them enemies nor sâ—e without enduring a thousand incommodities You will say perhaps I not oblige you much to thinke on you at present And that if the company here were a little lesse insupportable I would never dreame of yours I assure you there is nothing so sweete in the world can make me forget it and that I have no lesse sorrow when I am deprived of it then joy when I possesse it It is to this happinesse I aspire with extreame passion and doe all I can to set forward my returne I hope it shall be no lesse chearefull then my departure was pensive You shall be the first to see the effects as you are to receive the menaces I say the menaces not the promises since all my visits are more worthy your feare then your hope It may be you are of another opinion but if this were not mine I should yet lesse merit then I doe the honor of your favour and the quality Madam Of Your c. The XXXI Letter She professeth that the course displeaseth her and that shee cannot imagine what delight may therein be found MAdam I am in despaire that my opinion is not conformable to yours and that the same thing is the object of your pleasure my anger I speake of the course which you cal the fairest houre of the day and I the most troublesome This is my opinion which yet I love not because yours is contrary give mee reasons to combat it there is nothing I desire so much as to learne those which make you love it that I may renounce those which make mee hate it I much feare not to be perswaded and albeit your spirit be very powerfull over others least mine in this occasion oppose her aversion to your eloquence I say an aversion not blinde like that of many others who content themselves to say they are not enclined to such a thing and will
that she shall be thanked on both sides for bringing them acquainted and after shewes that she is no way counterfeit MAdam you are not a little faulty if you doe with paine employ me you cannot deprive me of the occasions to serve you without taking from me those of contentment And judge if you ought to have any repugnancy since I am tyed to you by the two strongest chaines of the world inclination and obligation The desire I have to doe you some service is aswell an effect of my sympathy as my duty I beseech you bel eve it and especially in an occasion where my labor will be more honorable to me then profitable to you You desire I should bring you acquainted with Melâ—ante and I thinke you demand mee nothing which to her may not be very pleasing I shall receive thankes on both sides and you both shall have a better opinion of my spirit because of the interest I have in persons that are so rare Iudge not of her by my report but by her merit which is the cause of it when you have seene her you will not accuse me to have spoken more then truth And likewise you shall judge mee worthy of excuse if I have not exprest all her good qualities since there is too great a number I must make her the same complement for you and refer you both to a more particular acquaintance which you shall get in time But you are in the wrong to say there is nothing amiable in you but simplicity if you are simple t is by reason rather then nature And if you be without finenesse t is not by ignorance but contempt yours is a noble simplicity which comes not from want of spirit like that of many but onely from an aversion you have to impostures I hate them so much that it is impossible for me to suffer them There is nothing I desire so much in those I love as a solid honesty which serves for foundation to al vertues and without which there shall never be assurance in society nor commerce I seldome see those that are cunning to have much soule or vertue if they were really good or prudent they would lesse affect the appearance There are which conceale their vertues by modesty meane while that others conceale their defects by vanity But in the end men take away the vizards and discover in time what is worthy of blame or praise This is my opinion which I esteeme so much the more reasonable as it is conformable to yours Finally you know if I have cause to make warre with those that are lesse sincere since there is nothing so contrary to my humor as deceit and nothing so pure and naturall as my affection but especially that I have to be Madam Your c. The XXXIV Letter Shee rejoyces that she is not forgotten and feares least the number of her Letters be troublesome MAdam I must needs say in the feare I was in to be blotted from your memory I have beene very glad to know that your long silence was rather an effect of distance then oblivion You will that I interpret it so and I assure you I am of the number of those who beleeve easily what they desire I will not examine if it be truth or civility that speakes I make no more doubt there hath wanted occasion not wil if I have not received your letters As for mine I had cause to desire that some had stayed by the way since if you have received them all you should have no lesse reason to complaine for the testimonies of my remembrance then I for the silence of yours Our plaints had been very different you perhaps had lesse desired my Letters I yours more But I doe not repent I thinke you be not angry at my writing and since you suffer my affection your patience will stretch to those effects which shew it I wish stronger better to merit what you be to me and better to testifie what I am to you that is Madam Your c. The XXXIV Answer Shee assures her that her Letters shall never bee troublesome and expresses displeasure that hers were not all received MAdam you do me wrong to thinke I can ever forget you you must have lesse merit or I lesse knowledge of it There is nothing so true as the assurances I give you of my remembrance And you shall have better reason to beleeve then desire it This is more true then profitable to you You are my example and my remedy I thinke on you alwayes to comfort and instruct my selfe You tell me that I have not received all your Letters if it be so I have reason to complaine with thankes and to esteeme my selfe unfortunate at the same time I beleeve my selfe obliged I should be lesse worthy of this favour if I had lesse feeling of such a losse I see my selfe enforced to agree to contrary passions for the same cause joy and sadnes If I rejoyce to know you remember me it afflicts me not to have seene all the evidences as for my Letters you have receiv'd them all in the same day as I conceive albeit as you may well see I write them one after another I am sorry they were not given you in the time that I desired But seeing it is thus happened at least I shall thence draw one great advantage It is that henceforth if you receive none you will attribute it to my misfortune which else perhaps you would to my oblivion never then entertaine an opinion contrary to the purpose I have to honour you and whether I write to you or not beleeve that I am perfectly Madam Your c. The XXXV Letter She praies her to assist a friend of hers in some affaire MAdam I beseech you at the entrance of this to remember the command you made mee when I had the honour to bid you farewell and you will finde it lesse strange if I have rather suffered my self to be transported with feare to disobey you then to importune you by my Letters I can write you none but ill-composed but I forbeare not to hope you will suffer them and after having had patience for a bad conversation you will not deny it me for a bad Letter that which yet makes me hope this favour with more assurance especially in this occasion is that I write for one who hath wisedome and vertue They are two qualities you love and possesse in a degree so eminent that even those who have them but in the meane finde easie accesse when any occurrent presents it selfe I assure my selfe this bearer which knowes this truth but by report shall quickly learne it by experience when he shall have seene you I doubt not but you will assist him and doe beleeve that in obliging him you will give me new ground to serve you and to be Madam Your c. The XXXVI Letter Shee makes her a Complement on the praises she had received MAdam you give me
approbation for a thing which hardly deserves patience I thinke t is rather an effect of your affection then of your judgement and that you have more desire to declare me your good will then your esteeme Take heed you offend not in praysing me after this manner and that yon make me not fall into the greatest errour of the world which is to take my selfe to be eloquent I ascribe so much to your judgement I should be ready to abuse my owne to conforme my beleefe to yours but let us change stile I thinke it is not your intention no more then mine and that when you value me so much t is rather civility then truth that speakes I know you have no lesse ability to discerne my defects then goodnesse to pardon them And I doe not desire you to run your selfe into errour I onely pray you to bring in others and to say of mee sometimes that which your selfe doe not beleeve It seemes to me my request is not uncivill if I beseech you to speake for mee to others as you use to doe to my selfe I thinke you would not I should have any other opinion of my selfe so I take your praise for an honest correction and doe beleeve that in attributing to mee so many good qualities you would admonish mee of those I want and which must be had to merit so high an approbation as yours This is that which ought to be beleeved by Your c. The XXXVII Letter She professes to her the feare shee hath during the thunder and expresses her griefe for not seeing her MIstris wonder not if this Letter be confused I am yet more in my thoughts then my discourse if you know not the cause I thinke it is enough for your information to tell you it thunders here they say the storme is past and neverthelesse my feare is not yet blowne over This is not written like others in my cabinet but in the bottome of a cave whether I descended all trembling and wrote it with so much disorder that to reade it onely will be enough to make you beleeve the truth I thinke that you are sorry to know me subject to such an excessive feare but yet doth it seeme that I have more reason to feare thunder then others have to runne away from Rats and spiders After so many sad examples wee have of it that which is capable of feare ought to be possest with it at this most fearefull Meteor but that this feare may be profitable it must make us discourse of our owne weakenesse and the greatnesse of God which makes all tremble with a vapour and which employes but an exhalation to fright the proudest Excuse me if I write to you in this fashion the apprehension I am in inspires me with no other thoughts you shal receive something another time lesse melancholly but see how far I am distracted I forgot to answer your Letter where you tell mee there is no appearance I bemoane you much and that you yet hope my returne with more passion I have as much affection to your company as you to mine I wish you knew my thought without doubt you would change yours Finally binde me to judge of my griefe by my love or rather of the one and the other by your merit which is the object of both Neverthelesse I ought not to give my selfe over to the judgement you make of me for as humility conceales from you the better part of your selfe I feare least it also hide the affection they beget in the soule of those which know you as my selfe and which are as perfectly as I am Mistris Your c. The XXXVIII Letter She complaines of her subtleties MAdam albeit I were told of your humour I could hardly beleeve you would disoblige those that had vowed you service and friendship the good opinion I had tane of you forbad mee this beleife insomuch that I accused of malice and invention those that informed me yours but now I have quitted this error by the last effects you have made mee receive of your bad disposition which are by so much the more unjust as I have never given you cause to offend mee On the contrary I have alwayes exprest to you that I esteemed you perfectly T is this which makes your processe the more criminall and which should carry mee more justly to revenge if the contempt I make of your deceits tooke not away my purpose In this minde I would never complaine of you if it were not for feare to passe for an innocent in your judgement giving you advantage by my silence to thinke that I discover not your subtleties and that I yet preserve the affection I promised you T is this that made me resolve to hazard this writing to assure you that I am cleane stript of friendship or hatred towards you My courage makes me uncapable to estee me you and my goodnesse to hate you But if my mildnesse obliges me to this moderation it shall not hinder me to tell you that of all the Ladies I have ever knowne you are the most malicious and the most unworthy to be beloved This is all that I can write unto you of this matter assuring you that your instructions have bin unprofitable and that those people which have studyed them have made very bad use of them at least have they not made those to speake which else would hold their peace I doubt not but if they have bin willing to tell you the truth they have affirmed to you the little satisfaction they have received from their curiosity Any finenesse that their wit hath used innocence hath surpast their craft so doth shee triumph alwayes soone or slow over lies and calumnies I beseech you beleeve that those you have employed to disoblige mee have absolutely taken away the will and the desire to be Madam Your c. The XXXIX Letter She entreates a strange Lady to assist a friend of hers goeing out of the Realme MAdam I have alwayes beene heard to speake of your merit with so much zeale that every one hath imagined by the testimonies of my affection that I had some part in yours You see the reason why M. L. which shall present you this Letter hath desired to be the bearer thereof and withall the subject that hee might receive some reflexion of the friendship wherewith you â—â—ave honoured me Surely Madam I am engaged to him in this occasion to give me that to write to you to recommend to you in him the person of one of my friends though hee be commendable enough of him selfe I hope you will make him know by your good offices that I am a little in your favour and that those hee shall obtaine of your courtesie in my regard shall oblige mee to render you as much service In the meane time I conjure you to conserve me the honour of your remembrance with assurance that I wish that of your commands to make it appeare that I am
Madam Your c. The XL. Letter She entreates him to oblige the bearer if there be neede SIR you have used to indebt your friends with so much affection you will not finde it strange if I recommend you one of mine which merits to have a part in your favour If you afford him any testimonies of the friendship you have promised me albeit I pretend recompence in helping you to his I shall alwayes be engaged to you for it it is of M. L. who shall present to you my Letter to receive some favours from you which hee shall the more easily obtaine by his owne merit I conjure you impart them â—o him and beleeve they shall â—e set on the score of obligations which I desire to acquite by my services which shall shew you that I am Sir Your c. The XLI Letter She writes to an Abbesse recommends her daughter enterd into religion MAdam I can receive in the world no more satisfaction my daughter no more glory then in the testimonies you give the one and the other of your courtesies I pray God Madam the example of your life which is a rule to all Ladies living in Clâ—ysters may yet be more specially to her I recommend you to what ever condition God doth destine her this shall be alwayes her great advantage to have seene so good an houre and approcht so neare to vertue I know the Importance of this obligation and if you make reckoning of any humane thing I shall take the assurance to protest that I am more then any person in the world Madam Your c. The XLII Letter She conjures her to continue her friendship MAdam since I am too unfortunate to be eternally neare you at least I must make you see I am alwayes there in thought and that the greatest consolation I have in my solitude is to entertaine my selfe with your rare qualities and to hope for your newes I aske them boldly since you have done me the honour to promise them in your celestiall cabinet where they doe never tell lies and where you appeare with so much Majesty as a Queene upon a glorious throne I conjure you to this by those faire houres which I cannot remember without hoping the continuation of your favours you have promised mee this grace so solemnely that if it were a curtesie to make mee hope it t is â—ow but justice to pay it I demurd it as a thing you owe me and which you can no more refuse me without giving me cause to complaine I beleeve my hope shall not bee without effect and that which yet gives mee more assurance is that since your affection depends rather on your owne good nature then my merit I reckon it will last long and your complexion being most equall the friendship you beare mee shall never bee lessned I am certaine it shall never have an end if it dure as long as the purpose I have to serve you and be Madam Your c. The XLIII Letter She entertaines her upon the departure of her husband and the retreate of one of her children into the cloysters MAdam one that knew lesse then I the strength of your spirit would thinke there needed great preparatives of reason to resolve it against two accidents which just at a time are united to make you rather an example of glory then an object of disgrace I wil then keepe my selfe from condoling you nor will I enterprize to comfort you since wee ought not thinke any unhappy but those that have feeble soules and that to say truth there is no accident fastned to the substance of the wise that which the vulgar esteemes hurtfull and vexatious is ordinarily found on the contrary we may see an example of it in the departure of my Lord your husband in the retreate of my Lord your sonne into a Monastery I assure my selfe there is no body that beleeves not your ressentments most just but your judgment is too cleare to be surprized by appearances and not to know in the age we live that vice is in such sort authorized that we know it no more but by the traine that followes it and by the equipage which makes it triumph in the adoration of slaves and flatterers Vertue hath no more the beauty which Nature gave her This is that which causeth most men not trouble themselves how provided they procure favour I praise God Madam to see your house free from this reproach This is it which makes me beleeve that if fortune doe ever reconcile her selfe with vertue the peace will never be made but on condition to make my Lord your husband chiefe of the gowne I am no Sibil my age and face take off the suspition but if there be prophetique gifts in any soules and God take pleasure to make beasts speake under the raigne of Lewes the thirteenth aswell as under that of Pharoah I shall boldly foretell the good hap of the state when it shall use the counsels of M. T. That which he hath done in diverse negotiations witnesseth that he hath not wanted to so good a master but a Letter cannot describe his perfections and I have done but like Mathematicians who with small points marke out great Kingdomes It remaines I tell you that the departure made by my Lord your son is an action you cannot complaine of seeing the example of your piety is perhaps the onely cause of his resolution this it is forbids mee remember you of a thousand reasons might be alleaged to sustaine the assault of blood and nature for the fruites hee shall bring forth in the Church and the consolation you shall thence receive will diminish the displeasures he might leave to a house full of honour and riches T is this I hope for his contentment and yours sharing as I doe in all that concernes you and desiring nothing more then to witnesse to you that I am entirely Madam Your c. The XLIV Letter She testifies her displeasure being almost in despaire to see her againe and that shee had rather speake then write to her MY deare Cousin However I esteeme your Letters I had rather be in case to speake then write not that I loathe to entertaine you in that kinde seeing I have no other meanes I cease not to thinke on you but I preferre your presence to your Idea and will take more pleasure to addresse my prayers to you then your picture I meane to the image of your merits which never can be blotted from my memory Your remembrance may give contentment to my soule but your entertainement to my sense also and would render my joy more perfect Any faire thoughts I have of you I am little more happy then those that have pleasing dreames when all is done t is but a fantome that I hugge and if there be ought better in my dreaming then theirs t is that I can maintaine it longer And so I doe alwaies separating my selfe from company that I be lesse distracted
me to speake of that they have in this Country know you that if I had more spirit I should here have lesse credit and should be in danger to have fewer friends if I had fewer like if I could speake or write well I should have qualities not in fashion and which would not onely be unprofitable but dangerous they esteeme them worthy of contempt not prayse or imitation we are in a Country where ignorance is more happy and more esteemed than knowledge Vertue is here despised and worthy persons are constrained to doe as Protestants at Rome they are afraid to appeare with their merit as those with their religion insomuch that if I were more able I should be lesse honoured yet have I cause to thanke God in that having destind me for the Countrey he hath given me qualities there esteemed meane while my defects render me the object of your compassion here they are that of praise and admiration insomuch that I cannot depart hence without losing my luster If I quit the Country and come to Paris of admirable I shall become ridiculous I am hardly of opinion to goe into a place where are able spirits that can better marke my defects than here they doe but all these reasons move me not the feare not to be there esteemed shall never be so strong as the desire I have to see you and to assure you that I am Madam Your c. The XLIX Letter She sayes that if she prayse her it is without flattery MAdam what ever I say of you doe me the favour not to accuse me of dissimulation it is not civility obliges me to your prayses t is that which hinders you to receive them doth truth displease you because you are the object and must vertue lose the esteeme we owe it because it lives in you This is unreasonable and I will not be unjust to please you I want two qualities which are more necessary to slatterers I have neither wickednesse nor wit I am too generous and too ignorant to practise this vicious dexterity however I know you are no more capeable to receive than I to offer it I should bee farre estranged from my purpose as well as from yours and my owne humour should I endeavour to please you by flattery I should put my selfe in danger to loose your favour instead of gaining it by this device Finally I tell you my thought and if you acâ—use mee to bee in errour â—t least accuse mee not of â—eduction I will speake noâ—hing but what I thinke â—hen I publish every where â—s I doe that the two things â—hich admit not the lest â—omparison are your meâ—â—t and the desire it produces â—â— mee to serve you and to bee alwayes Madam Your c. The L. Letter Shee accuses his silence and complaines that shee knowes not whether to write to him MY deare Brother I know what reason you have not to bee here but cannot comprehend whaâ— hinders you to write Iâ— your absence bee an effect of your misfortune your silence is one of your oblivion And thinke in what displeasure wee bee since wee must beleeve you want opportunitie or will if the first wee feare you have no longer libertie and have cause to lament you if the second you have no more affection and wee have cause to be angry with you wee are reduced to the straite either of pitty or choller So little as you regard us consider yet into what you plung us Since beside the griefe wee have not to heare from you wee know not moreover how to send If you tell us yet where you bee wee should have some comfort but as yet wee can discover nothing of it So I turne this loose to hazard us knowing what fortune it shall runne by sea or land I must speake freely to you and tell you that I cannot imagine the cause of so long a silence especially in a person that would perswade that his affection is extreame It must needes be that you inhabite some land where they forget faire women as easily as here they doe good services You understand me well enough and t is enough you know that Calista doth yet complaine more then Amaranta and that your Mistresse mixes her teares with those of your sister Are these two pleasing companions cleane forgotten Consider if you be but little guilty when at the same time you offend love and friendship And are no better brother then faithfull lover How insensible soever you bee I assure my selfe if you reade this Letter with my attention you cannot but bee toucht I hope my prayers shall worke some effect if you regard who makes them it is My Brother Yours c. The LI. Letter Shee complaines of the inconstancie of a certaine Lady who had in the beginning exprest an extraordinary inclination and soone after quitted it MAdam I know no longer what to thinke of our age I am of the opinion of those who have neither hope nor faith but in God that wee give to the world is too often abused not to leave us undeceived would you ever beleeve that Beliana had ceast to visite mee after the protestations shee made mee in your presence had you thought she could live without mee and neverthelesse I heare no more newes of her I have given her many visites without receiving any And when I meete her by the way shee salutes mee with so much coldnesse as will serve to expresse her ficklenesse I protest I have beene deceived in her I never thought so faire a beginning had beene so neere the end and that so much dearenesse shee made mee at first should have beene followed in so short a time with neglect You know how farre my humour is estranged from lightnesse but I protest at present I wish my selfe more facility that I might bee lesse troubled with hers My constancy is no lesse importunate then unjust since ordinarily it carries mee to those that have it not I chaine my selfe so strongly to what I love that it cannot be separated from mee without carrying away a peece I still behold with griefe what I should behold with contempt It is true I doe my selfe all the violence of the world to lose my prize But what shall I doe more for her not being able to returne I must needes let her goe and let the force of reason comfort mee in a chance where the tendernes of affection would bee without remedy but let us leave a discourse unprofitable and irkesome t is better I entertaine you with my voyage I have beene in the Countrey since I saw you and was never so much vext in so little time T is a strange countrey where I thinke they would never speake should you barre rayling There is no more honesty then ingenuity And what ever they talke of the simplicity of the village I know they are no lesse viciouâ— there then in the City and that all the difference is they sinne more grosseâ—y I have met there but