Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A Word B Word C Word D Occurrence Frequency Band MI MI Band Prominent
death_n day_n great_a see_v 5,480 5 3.2974 3 false
View all documents for the selected quad

Text snippets containing the quad

ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A22598 Love and valour: celebrated in the person of the author, by the name of Adraste. Or, the divers affections of Minerva. One part of the unfained story of the true Lisander and Caliste. Translated out of the French by W.B.; Histoire trage-comique de nostre temps, sous les noms de Lysandre et de Caliste. English Audiguier, Vital d', 1569-1624.; Barwick, Wm. 1638 (1638) STC 905; ESTC S100297 122,979 258

There are 8 snippets containing the selected quad. | View lemmatised text

to knit the faster with them is it not to make seen that she the only approved their actions but also that she cōceivd formd thē before they were produc'd But since she disavowes others actions let us look a little into her owne When honour and the service of my King called me before Saint Iean 3 or 4 daies before I bore my life thither fell she not out with me on the Eve of my departure pretending that my visits were scandalous unto her Neighbours Since hath she not let mee see the weaknesse and untruth of this her pretence when shee hath permitted him for whom I was turned off not onely to see her at all houres but also to take a lodging in the same street to besiege her in hers and to hinder the resort of all others thither There is no more to be said then of scandall to them of the street then to those of the Indies Called she me not backe before my going to the end I carried her figure along with mee in my breast as I did with so lively an impression as the practise of so much paines suffered in so long and laborious a journey nor the frequent Alarums of so dangerous a fortune speeding to the aproaches assaults and bloody sallies of so many sieges had ever power to eface the draught Writ shee not to me that so long an extended absence could not be compatible with great love complaining that I testified unto her more courage then affection Forced she me not from the beloved place of my birth and from between my parents armes wher the contentment of my soule and good of my affaires required me here to make me wed vexations and misfortunes infinite in hope yet of incomparable happinesse I knew well the King would come againe and that I should do nothing here but take an unprofitable walke of some two or three hundred Leagues for the love of her But I was passionated with so violent a desire to see her that I beheld all other things sans interest and deemed the time I passed from her not onely lost to me but even that it was death it selfe to forbeare her sight Let us see now this great good fortune and this glory so desired hoped for at my return as end and crowne unto so great a Martyrdome T is true that I was welcom'd well received and much made on the first day of my arrive they tould mee that they had grieved my absence and deplored my death that a false bruit had spread and all full of other complements and pratles of a woman but found I not my place possessed by my Rivall and those former favours she had permitted me and I againe look'd to have had cut from my hopes and to another given before my face Set by those subtilties the escapes and the repaires wherewith so long she entertained and did abuse my too credulous easinesse the meetings given out of her house whilst others saw her day by day not onely with all liberty but Emptry also the irreconcilable enmities and bloudy quarrels she by her imprudence caused me and her vanity for yet I would pardon those But to bestir her so much as she could possibly on all sides to give unto my enemies the advantages God gave me over them to say my sword was longer then my Rivals that he hurt himselfe and that my Laquay was a lyar when hee recounted the truth of this action though his wound and his naturall innocence in telling of the tale spoke sufficiently for him and whom she her selfe had given me but the day before for most trusty To be sorry that t was said I had the better and she to say gainst al the world and truth it selfe I had the worst to forget her selfe so farre as in opposition of my selfe overweeningly to dispute a thing of which she knew nothing and which I my selfe had done Can it be imagined that a woman worshipped and adored with so much passion and respect as she or rather that the waight of all th'ingratitude of women kinde melted together and reduced in masse should ere bring forth the eff●cts of so profound a malice In summe she turned me off not for a single friend but for some five or six nor yet for such as lov'd her more or those were better made then I but much much worse She hath beene the cause I have beene challenged by my friends that I have much neglected my Parents estate that I have forborne to follow my King into my owne Country and seemed to sh●n those occasions I have ever sought and which is more then all that I have left my self to pursue the injustice and cruelty of her fond passions that I have preferred her martyrdomes before the sweetest rest her love to Gods himselfe who had made mee happy had I served him so as her where she hath render'd me most miserable still for having served her better farre then him To love her then as yet after all this were but to be a sot and no way amorous Perfidious and most thankelesse Soule what wrong hath thy unthankfulnesse and thy faith-breach done to thee what glories have they ravisht from thy memory I had prepar'd thee a place in heaven where the luster of thy starre had been adored saluted and made known to all mortall kinde where those that live beneath another Pole had worship'd thee even as their chiefest constellation Thy image and thy name had beene so venerable to posterity that our Nephewes had not filled the earth but with thy Altars nor had perfumed the ayre but with the odours of thy sacrifice The universe had beene thy Temple where men had preached but thy vertues Celebrated but thy praises and publisht but thy merits And thy renowne had been so famous ore the world as it had found no other bounds then the extreamity of that 's extent and the eternity of its lasting And though I could yet heape upon thee as much blame as the honor I prepared for thee and satisfie my selfe with as much vengeance as an outraged heart could wish yet will I not afflict thee with a greater punishment Then leave thee buried in the abisse of thy owne forgetfulnesse And not remember mee henceforth of thee but to detest thy memory The Argument He answers to certaine complaints that Minerva had made some while after as well to his friends as himselfe of his indifference and sheweth that it was founded on the necessity of obeying her and upon good reason Epistle 62. Madame YOu cannot think that I wish you ill but by that you have done me the feeling whereof I have quite lost together with the remembrance of what good I wished you If I should wish you ill it should be for that you do unto your selfe and in such case I should counsell you to forbear any further to do it to the end I ceased further to wish it were you not altogether as incapable of my counsels as of my affection After such things as have passed 'twixt you and me I ought not retaine the least affection that may have regard to you nor any thought that may acknowledge you And if you say 〈…〉 indifference is worse then enmity I 〈…〉 it a truth but you must acknowle●●… 〈…〉 there was not that violence by 〈…〉 not essayed to enforce me thereunto 〈…〉 flee by the which I have not endeavor●● 〈…〉 me still therin It is not to be marvelled at the 〈◊〉 at last have performed your will since my will was ever subject unto yours or rather was indeed no other but yours But what you ought finde strange is indeed that I can endure your contradiction whilest you can by no meanes endure my obedience When that I liu'd not but in you and my jealousie made me complain of your deportments you have full often told me that I had no interest in your actions wherefore would you that I should have now that you are dead as it were to me you have full oft refused your sight and entertainment unto me when as it was the chiefe and onely one of my desires Wherfore offer you it me now that it is the last of all my cares And wherefore having so many times fled me when that I followed you doe you now follow me when that I flee you if so it be not to make seen that you are alwaies contrary and that your pleasure abides in my tortures but if you shall reply that I am altogether irreconcileable I would set you in my place and aske you but this question If you had lov'd me so as I have ever affected you and having outraged and discarded you for other women as you have wrong'd and abandon'd me for other men I desired to renew affection with you yet livin● 〈◊〉 dying for other men would not you bid 〈…〉 discharge me of the women for whom I had used you so ill and that afterwards I should see what you had to doe So quit you first of such men as you have unworthily preferred before me and then we will see what reparation you may make me You say that you finde your fault and that you repent you of the doing it and desire to render me satisfied begin with satisfaction and having quit the sinne we will see if you be capable of mercy But to thinkthat you can at one and the same time be capable of both there is never a Casuist in Sorbonne but will condemne your opinion Yet think not I give you this advice nor in hope or desire that you should follow it for knowing that you have ever done quite contrary to such counsels as I have given you I should then rather give you this to the intent you followed it not if I were not very carelesse both of the one and the other What I say herein is too manifest that it is not with so much incivility as reasō that I endeavour to escape your snares and that it is with more vanity then judgement that you hope to take me there againe FINIS
come to see Arlande as his Kinswoman and Gracchus accompanying him as his friend she could not hinder the Visitations nor the Walks Arlande admitted of it being very uncomly for the daughter to play the Mistris before her mother not thinking also that it would have becomm'd a woman of her quality to testifie the least animosity against them at all to shew she affected him In the end she knew so well to plead her cause as she gained her suite Adraste asked pardon and the wronged party made the amends This day consumed in complaints and such like satisfactions took yet away all hate that the last falling out seemed to have ingendred in their hearts how ever it placed not there the wōted love not in that of Minerva's for that she yet mourned for the dead on whose behalf she seemed even to despise her life Nor in that of Adraste for that seeking in these disgraces to save him from the ambushes of Minerva hee was already faln in those of Cariclea which hee would have dissembled but Minerva intreating him to helpe her loose the remembrance of a man whom shee had loved hee againe begged of her advise how to acquire the affection of a woman that he adored You have already so acquired her answered Minerva thinking he had spake of her self as you need not care further but of means to preserve her Would to God that he you love were alive said Adraste and that I were in possession of her I desire I believe I should have lesse trouble to preserve then I shall have to acquire her How can that be said Minerva that you should be in possession of her you desire during the life of him I lament if you desire not some other then me And how think you also that it can be believed answered Adraste that I have acquired the affections of one that lives not but in the death of an other I have the wrong indeed on my side said Minerva and you the reason on yours Adraste to engage your thoughts upon such an object as hath not ingaged theirs But since I discover thus my malady to you if so you cannot give me help as there is none in death I pray at least refuse me not your comfort and be it so that in losing you for a Lover I may enjoy you as a friend Madam answered Adraste it hath bin the greatest unhappinesse that hath done me outrage to see how unapt you have bin to think the one or the other of me But I shall never cease to be both to you so long as God shall give me life and you no cause to die by the ill use you daily do me The night book of their discourse which else they had not known how to leave Minerva having prepared to retire to her house in the Country and apprehending in the solitude that place offered the sorrows that Arnolphes death did now make her so lively feel in the divertisements of this so excellent City again conjured Adraste that did sometimes apply him to such things to write somewhat in way of consolation and in verse on the death of Arnolphe an importune request to pray a Lover to busie himself in the commendations of a Rival and the more for that Adraste medled but unwillingly in making Verses seeing so many as he did come off with little credit in that subject But Arnolphe was dead and hee hoped in pray sing him hee should at least flatteringly sooth his Mistris and insensibly insinuate in her favours yet the more unwilling to give the repulse to a Lady to whom he had given himself without whom he could not rest and with whom he could not live he endevoured to render him pleasing and agreeable so far as to celebrate for her the affections of him that living had orethrown his own So after having brought Minerva home to her house and being retired to his own lodging hee made the same Evening the following Stanzaes as you see which the next morning he sent to her at her uprising to let her see with how much care and readinesse hee did imbrace all manner of occasion did at all pertain unto her service The Verses were these Stanzaes On the death of Arnolphe to Minerva CEase fair one cease your mournfull plaints lay by Arnolphe is not dead though absent hence More then the Sun remov'd from off our Skie In shady dark hath any residence No he 's immortall and amongst the Saints And vainly you importune Heaven too late That hath no eare to lend to such complaints But must in all things too give way to fate Great Iove himself that with one thunder might Dissolve the earth all things annihilate Saw maugre him brave Hector fall in fight And Troy in dust lament her ransackt state How often mov'd eye pressed by ' his Favorite And his fair daughter did he think to hide But destiny withstood and did deny it That goodly Empire from the Grecian pride For in the Eternity of vengefull fate Before was Priam doom'd his sentence past Else Pallas power nor Iuno obstinate Could have his land orerun or laid so wast But your Arnolphe here a blessed man Though beaven should chance refuse him deny you Is happy yet that he did serve you when He liv'd and more to be lamented by you And is not one death then enough but you Will with your tears bring back his soul to breath And he must so die twice and you would now Double your griefs and twice mourn for his death In vain then fall those tears along your face Nor can they move the destinies decree And if they could obtain you any grace That grace were yet more ill then death can be Minerva that the Heavens caus'd to come down Heer to be seen perfections object still Ought she to afflict her for the love of one That to acknowledge it hath power nor will You moan his body or his soul lament If 't befor's body you complain t' is gone And if for 's soul your grief hath worse extent For you a good in place of ill bemoane Leave to low mindes these bootlesse tears these moods Can so much heart so sooth the sence of crosse We should not drown our reasons in those floods Nor lose our selves in weeping others losse The room 's too fair to be th'retirement still Of a guest so foul as is perpetuall moan And they without cause use themselves but ill That pitying others cruell are t' their own Do you then celebrate's immortall fame And with proud marble heer his corps inshrine Then let some happy pen divulge his name Throughout the earth where ere the Sun do's shine This doth accord with great Augustus minde And your brave heart that wont not be so griev'd But t' feed your soul with sorrows so unkinde And griev'e he 's dead is to lament he liv'd Quit then your sorrows yet your grief make even And know when you lament that naturall throw Common to all
Kings were yet to be brothers to the Kings of France For this cause only was it that Henry rather chose the quality of Duke of Anjon in France then that of King of Poland And for the same reason as well he as Francis his brother being but Princes of France did precede the dead King your father when as he was but King of Navarre which I speake but by the way my Lord to let you see how much this dignity of brother to the King ought be esteemed by you before all the Scepters and the Crowns of the whole earth Be it then that you would regain you the antient possession of your inheritance in Italy the remembrance of Charles the eighth of Lewis the ninth and of Francis the great causeth the Alpes as yet to tremble Be it that you would passe to Constantinople the eastern Empire conquered and possessed by the French doth there with all feare still redoubt their very name If you would yet thrust further and as farre as Palestine the same French have conquered and possessed that also you may affright the Sultans of Egypt and the Mores in Affrick by the sole memory of S. Lewis In what part soever of the world fatecalleth you thither may the renown of your predecessors open you a passage No mountain is so steep that will not stoop below your feet nor sea so inraged and impetuous as not to be appeased and humbled beneath your sailes Go on great Prince under the name and armes of that great King to whom onely you ought rest a subject Goe and happily re-enter on the possession of so many Realmes Eface by your immortall acts those in the end worthy a Gaston of France the glorious memory and illustrious name of Gaston of Foix. Make seen there is as much difference between your valour and your renown and his as there is between his condition and his house and yours 'T is said Alexander intending to passe into Asia there was one of the statues of Orpheus whose forehead stood with sweat from whence the Augures drew a presage that he should there bring so great things to passe as should produce sweat on the browes of such Poets and Musicians as should desire to relate them May you great Prince beare Armes more farre then Alexander and do those deeds as the admiration and astonishment thereof may render men mute and statues speaking that after I have been often covered with sweat in the pursuit of the thunder of your Armes in battell I may again sweat within their triumphs singing the hymnes of your so glorious victories So as I may from out those large extended wings wheron Renown it selfe ought beare your glory draw a quill best capable of their description and which supplying the imperfections of this book that I purpose to the eternity of your memory may leave to posterity works more worthy your name and the desire I have to signallize me My Lord 〈…〉 Your most humble most obedient and thrice affectionate servant D'AUDIGUIER A Table of the Arguments MInerva commeth to solicite her suits in Paris is beloved of Balamyr Crassus Arnolphus and Adraste but loveth onely Arnolphus The disfavour of Adraste causeth that of Crassus Adraste desirous to give a Serenade to Minerva accompanied with Periste and Oristene runneth a dangerous Misfortune Page 1 Adraste reconcileth himselfe to Minerva and not being able to vanquish the inclination shee hath for Arnolphe of a Lover he becometh a Friend Tatius renders himselfe necessary to Minerva and so engageth her estate marrieth her person after the death of Arnolphe and the vaine predictions of Adraste which were found so true as they produced a second separation of Marriage betweene them 16 Minerva commeth back to Paris The second loves of Adraste with her are ruined by the practices and confederacie of Brasidas and of Gracchus her kinsmen and Lovers 32 Adraste closeth againe with Minerva comforteth her on the death of Arnolphe Commotions in France and divers adventures upon that subject 56 The reprisall of Minerva in affection with Adraste a dangerous adventure of his going to see Minerva A walke of Adrastes with Minerva and some others in company with her at Ruel 78 The divers pursuits of Crassus and Adraste The departure of Minerva her returne and confidence in Adraste The sodaine disfavour of Adraste on the Eve of his parting and the Letter he wrote to Minerva As also the reconciliation of Adraste with Minerva and his departure for the Army 101 That neither his Love nor the perfections of his Mistris could be possibly spoken of but imperfectly 123 Vpon his Mistris forbidding him to Love 125 He sayth that he loveth as well by election as destinate thereto and intreats his Mistris to examine the cause for which she doomes his death 127 He complaines of the indifference of his Mistris 129 The Answer 130 The Reply 131 He amorously seemes angry with his Mistris 133 He comforteth his Mistris on the death of his Rival and manifesteth the excellence of his Love above all other affections 135 He complaines of his Mistris that she had failed him in a meeting appointed by her to walke 141 The Answer 142 He justifieth his fancies ibid. Why his Mistris should not be moved at his Martyrdome upon his departure 143 He intreats his Mistris to torment him to the end such pleasure as she takes therein be increased proportionably to the increase of his torments 145 He excuseth himselfe for putting his Mistris in coller by preferring a just complaint unto her and protesteth that he will never more complain since he seeth he cannot complaine without giving her offence 146 The Answer 148 Hee endeavours to maintaine a wager hee had propounded to have lay'd that hee would write no more to her and begs pardon that hee doth not aske her pardon for it ibid. After his Mistris departure hee comforteth her in her afflictions by the example of his owne adversities 150 An Epistle of a Lady to a faithlesse Lover 151 He justifieth his silence 153 He dares not see his Mistris 154 Hee complaines of his Mistris absence and of those would hinder him from seeing her 155 Hee comforteth a Lady upon some displeasures shee had received ibid. He answereth to a Letter of Minerva's 157 A Ladies answer to her Lover 158 Hee makes answer to a complaint shee had made of him for his silence and not writing 159 Vpon some discontent a little before his departure 160 The Answer 161 The Reply 162 Being returned to Paris he found that his Mistresse had harkened to some ill reports of him whereof hee complaineth and for that she had taken from him such houres of visitation as he had hardly acquired to give them to another The first occasion of breach betweene them 164 Vpon that shee had answered to his former Letter how she was inforced to her griefe to suffer unpleasing company and that she was sorry she could not admit of his entertainment as she
ours Nor have we spoke of it but to avoid a more tedious discourse which must have beene made to continue the adventures of Adraste whose particular return comprehending in the generall we have not now to say but that having still followed the Court hee came therewith to Paris where from the morrow of his arrivall he was taken with a quoridian Fever which brought him so low as it was not hoped he could ever get up again He had the help of an excellent Physician in his art a worthy man his intimate and perfect friend to whose care and goodnesse next under God hee stands obliged for his life Amongst his visitants Minerva was one that came to see him not onely contrary to his expectation but his hope also for the continuance of his absence the travail of the journey and most of all the violence of his sicknesse had so efaced all impressions of his love as there remayned not so much as any line or draught therof in his memory He was not in the height of his disease but in the greatest weaknes of his person so as when his Fever somewhat ceased on the one side it seems that this visit prepared for him a new cause to re-alight his affection on the other But yet being visited more by Chariclea then by Minerva the assaults and batteries of the one ruined and oreturned even to the ground whatsoever the other erected Reason and Civility willed that hee being well should see such as had visited him sick Of which he acquit him very religiously to all but Minerva whom he saw not in doubt that freeing him of one malady he might fall into an other by so much the more to be feared as those of the minde are generally more dangerous than they of the body Contempt is the greatest vexation to a high minde especially when it comes from such of whom they have made esteeme or from whom they have been accustomed to receive honour and respect Minerva having been so perfectly honoured of Adraste could not indure without despight that he that had not liv'd but in her and for her and of the life and health of whom she had testified so great a care should visit all such as had seen him but her self And her indignation was by so much the greater for that she knew he faild not in this duty for want of civility nor of knowledge He offends not said she of ignorance but contempt and believed that it was of purpose In the end Adraste must needs go see her for shee had sent so often to his lodging as it had bin discourtesie and ingratitude to have done otherwise She congratulated his recovery she civilly complained of his incivility and pray'd him not onely to see her but also to write unto her Adraste well saw that these were so many snares set by Minerva for his liberty but hee had scarce power to refuse a thing which he had first demanded of her had he not bin prevented And as love is an Enemy not to be vanquished but by the absence of the thing beloved very hardly could hee avoid being overcome by such approaches as these were Two strong conceits wrought in his thoughts like two contrary winds at Sea with a perishing vessell the most violent which was yet most pleasing counselled and almost constrained him against his will to love this woman the other more gentle and yet more troublesome did utterly forbid it And as his imaginations figured to him the matchlesse delights he might gather from the passion of such beauties his memory again presented to him the most affrightfull torments he was sure to suffer but pretending therunto and the divers shipwracks he had undergone in the same Port did counsell him in any wise not now to re-imbarke him there But the means likewise for him to avoid it he that lov'd not his own eys without it were for seeing her in whom he had already harboured the chiefe felicities of his life was away In this conflict of difficulties hee addressed him unto her self as sole and sovereigne Arbiter of his thoughts beg'd of her to restore them back the rest she had bereft them off and to render to her self the same contentment which her cruelty had ravished from him in outraging the constance of a Lover and betraying her own proper desires through the ingratefull misacknowledgement wherby she did receive his pure affections As Minerva had bin provoked and agreed at the indifference of Adraste she was now well pleased to see him stirred again with love of her But being a discreetand subtile woman chiefly in the art of faining in which she out-went the most exquisite of her sex shee so farre as possibly she could hid him from her intents that were to re-ensnare him And as the ordinary custome of women is to oppose their honour to such as speak to them of love Minerva forgot to hold up this buckler against such armes as Adraste could advance talking to him yet nerethelesse in such a manner of the sence shee had of the one as shee put him not in despair of such as he had of the other But they so long had known and were so well acquainted with one another that they could not possibly so well dissemble it but that they espied each other behinde the best curtain could be drawn Minerva proposed extreme difficulties in the love of Adraste and Adraste as many resolutions upon those difficulties of Minerva shee alleaged first her marriage which absolutely hindred her to be any way lawfully sought Adraste put her in minde of Arnolphe whom shee had lov'd before and since and whom yet shee lov'd after in death however shee was straightly obliged to love him that lived and was in affection before the other By which hee let her see that the marriage she alleaged was but a pretext by which she covered her ingratitude being assured that if it had been the true cause that hindred her from loving him it had bin so as well for another as him I lov'd Arnolphe before I married said shee and that love which indeed I bore unto his vertues nor that which as yet I bear his memory did ever wrong my honour where yours tendeth meerly to the subversion of it Your honor is easily protected in my discertation answered Adraste and though mine be one thousand times more deer to me then my life I should chuse rather a thousand times to lose it then ever so little to have tainted yours But you are too wise a woman to be ignorent that honour chiefly doth insist upon the managing and is not incompatible with love You are too wise a man likewise answered Minerva to think what you say But if so be I should grant you any thing so unfit to be granted what reason have I yet to quite me of Arnolphes affection to reinvest me in those of Adraste it were but to passe from one extream to another and not onely from a love permitted to a
the death of Adraste and Polinice For having seen them laid hands on and invironed by so many he bleeved not that they could escape and for him it was easie to flee for that they had nothing to do but with his light which being at first put out they gave him very good leisure to retire So soon as Minerva saw Adraste she seemed to rejoyce extreamly And I assuredly beleeve it was no way fained whatsoever hath beene sayd that this ambush was layd and Minerva had not sent for the booke by her Laquay so much for that as to bring him in compasse of the snares of these Rascals which could never enter in the thought or beliefe of Adraste You have prevented me of an ill nights rest sayd she which this companion went about to prepare for mee I beleeve you could not have bestowed a visit on me this good while or so pleasing or necessary as this was But tell mee how happened this misfortune to you Madam answered Adraste your Laquay is not so blame worthy as you may thinke for he saw me in such case as there was more liklihood that he left me dead then alive But it pleaseth God that I live yet for your service and to bestow on you more necessary visits and more pleasing nights then this And then he recounted at large to her what had befallen him since Supper whilst the uncloaked gentleman Polinice entertained her women with the same discourse Very well sayd Minerva then I bid you good night and desire you come no more at such houres to see mee That is to take good nights from me answered Adraste and not to give mee good night this same command not to see you any more by night It shall be what you please replied Minerva for I shall indeed rather chuse to take from you good nights then suffer upon my occasion that you perchance have your life taken from you as you have now very narrowly escaped with it Adraste accepting her will for reason retir'd with his good or ill night after having tould her that God did reserve him to some better end and that on no occasion his life could be so well imployed as in the losse of it for so worthy a Subject Adraste being retired without any further mischance passed the night as accustomed in the thought and contemplation of an enchanted Lover by the charmes of a fair Mistris The next morning rising very early he went to take a turn at the Louvre where he was informed of the departure of the King It was at the time of the great assembly at Rochell which being made against his Majesties permission and continued contrary to his cōmand gave cause to the Court of Parliament to declare them that held it rebels and to the King to arme himself for the defence of his authority Adraste went from thence to the uprising of Minerva carried her these sad news not so much lamenting the publique misfortune that threatned the State with a civill war as his own particular condition that forced him leave his Mistris to use his life in a quarrell wherin he had so little interest For howsoever he were not constrained by any place or benevolence of the Kings he was nerethelesse born and enforced therto by the laws of his own worth and honour But since that nothing induceth you said Minerva to follow the King but your honour you are not obliged to follow him other where then in service Let other men then go along and wait on him whose offices and pensions doe oblige them to attendance every where besides and do you stay untill he does sit down before some place or that hee hath made some overture of war wherin you may be seen to do the service you desire and think not then that I will make it difficult to give you leave for that your life being of smaller esteem to me by much then is your honour I shall rather chuse to command then to forbid it you Adraste was easily perswaded to stay with a Lady whom indeed hee could not indure to part from but seeing he had not liberty to entertain her as hee wished in her house where she was watched by her own people gained and corrupted by Crassus the prime of the Spring inviting every one to see the beauty of the Country hee intreated her to bear him company to Ruel to the end that no other but the Nymphs of those fountains should be by at the last farwels hee would take of her Minerva that desired but to passe time away rendred Adraste his desires in that by contenting likewise her own But what she might easily and absolutely of herself have done was accompained with so many limitations and circumstances as the pleasure of it was ever lesse then the sufferance were it that by the difficulty she would render her favours the more estimable or were it a quality inseparable in love that often promiseth much sweetnesse where naught is reaped but much bitternesse Reason and what was decent not suffering that she should go alone with Adraste caused her to take with her an old Gentlewoman that was rather her Governesse then Servant with two little children that she had had by Tatius and would yet have Plancus and Melite besides of the company Melite was one of her friends and Plancus a new Captive of Minerva's whom shee had insnared without Adraste once perceiving it whom she made believe how shee could tender him amorous of Melite Adraste agreed very willingly to that thinking that whilst Plancus entertained Melite and that the Governesse should be busied with Minerva's children he should have no ill opportunity to govern her But the difficulty was to get from her house and people unsuspected for she would not by any means that they should know of this journy for fear it might come to Crassus eare And this Lady otherwise exceeding able had already given him such Empire over her as not so much as ever remembring Tatius that was her husband she let her self be troubled with the jealousie of a man that she said was nothing to her and that she seemed not onely to be unable to love but also one of whom shee could not endure to be beloved It is most certain that such as be in love are blinde for if Adraste absolutely had not bin so he might by this have seen that Crassus had more interest in his Mistris then himself But he believed more in her words then in his own eyes To the end then that Minerva's people should take no notice of the designe she willed that Adraste should wait very early in the morning at Church with a coach and four horses that Plancus and Melite should come thither another way without either of them comming neer her and that she would meet there at the same time with her little companions The Coach and horses they were ready almost before day scarce was the Church doore opened but Adraste was got in hee
pleasing as I have imposed silence on my owne passions to give care to yours and forgotten all the ills you doe me to haste to your helpe even in those which you your selfe procure you I cannot deny Madam but your sorrowes are naturall since they proceed from love and from the death of a man you lov'd you have not loved him sans merit and you have lost him without possessing him so as you lament him justly This is a truth and cannot be denied without offending the resentment you have for him But Madam against whom complaine you of his death Is it against God who did permit him live or against your selfe most innocent of his death If it be against you are you not still the more afflicted and the more sorrowfull And if it bee against God knowes hee not better what is fit for us then we our selves Could not hee have suffer'd him whom you love dead to have beene living yet possessed by another Mistris within whose arms you had lesse loved him then in his grave Could not hee as well have taken you againe as him thereby reducing you to that first nothing which he made you of Consider what you complaine of Madam and you will finde that it is nought and that to be moane your selfe and vexe your soule for nothing is an inexcusable weaknesse We well may pardon the first complaints that griefe inforceth us to utter for that there is no courage so assured whom the violence of these first motions does not overturn But this storme ceased there is no more excuse if Reason reassumes not place at her turn does not obtrude those passions that had turn'd her out It is for this Men say that the superior part of the Soule should be like the supreame Region of the Aire that never is agitated with or storm or tempest See here Madam the difference twixt what you doe and what you ought to do for doubtlesse discourse time the necessity of death and a thousand other considerations I omit should before now have setled your resolution to have borne a remedilesse mishap Where see the quite contrary instead of making your constancy appeare and shine in such an accident shewing by how many waies you exceed in the beauties and perfections of your Sex you give your selfe over a prey to griefe like to some simple and ignorant woman you shut your spirits up which God ordained for heaven within a grave together with a dead Carkasse which he it may be hath deprived of life even for the immesurable love you bore him you sacrifice your Soule to a most singular griefe and vainly runne after a shadow you are sure you never can oretake Your Soule is the Temple of God and you adore there the image of a dead man whom hee permitted not that you should love not whilest he liv'd You make scruple of small thinges and make no conscience of Idolatry which you your self do know to be the grieuousest sinne that can be perpetrate The Lawes allow a widdow but one yeare to testifie her lawfull sorrowes which for the most part be but in apparance neither and you resolve to carry yours eternally within your soule You will nourish a Woolfe that devoures you embrace what betraies you ruine your repose outrage your beautie and your health and cause your selfe to die alive To conclude Madam you will openly resist the will of God according to which you make profession of ordering yours Who being our Father loves us his children better knowing what we want then we our selves rules all things by his Providence and not according to our fancies For if the world were governed by the various humors and divers passions of men Alas Madam to what new Chaos were wee then brought backe And if that sometimes hee afflict us here t is alwais yet to profit us never to our hurt and even that ill hee does us is either still to make us merit some greater good or else to cause us shun some greater ill Complaine not you unjustly then of what he justly doth Think not that he hath suffered now this losse for other cause then to acquit you of a greater griefe which howsoever you are unable to perceive yet see you that his power is infinite and that his judgements are unknown and which 't is better farre to apprehend then prove But you will tell me the same you told me yesterday that your passions are not so easily shifted as your petticotes It is true Madame and I finde it but too certaine in what I undergoe for you But where are now those so sufficient reasons by which you have erewhiles endeavoured to perswade me that I might easily put off mine Why serve you not your selfe against your selfe with those weapons you so well handle against others Why doe you thinke it impossible to free you of the passions you have for a shadow having before beleeved that it was nothing for me to divest me of these I have for you Is it that you are more capable of love then I am or that the subject of your love is more excellent then mine Madame I will not lessen the merit of your affections which you had never conceived had they not been most perfect of which it is no little proofe to see them live yet in you after the death of him that caused them Yet are they naturall and nothing is more common then to mourne for a lost friend But that I had power to humble me so to the pleasure of a woman as for her love I have lov'd even the rivall that hindred me to be beloved is a proofe of an affection Madame that in some sort exceeds the rule of nature And in the which you cannot deny but I surpasse you as much as you in all other things exceed me As to the subject of your love Madame he was most certainly lovely otherwise you had not made choice of him But without wroning your election or his merits I dare say that there was more correspondence in your humours then in your qualities and that more then the compliance and discretion wherewith he entertained you and whereby chiefly he was praise-worthy he was not possessed of so great perfections as could make him merit yours By which you may see that the subject of my love being more excellent then yours it followes that your passions must be lesse then mine and that you may easlier divest you of them then I of mine yea if so the cause remained which being now no more it is a marvell that the effect should yet continue But Madame I have given sufficient audience to your plaints it is now high time that you hearken unto mine if not for my ease yet for your own at least since the most miserable may finde in them some cause of comfort You bemoane the dead Madame and think not of those that die by your meanes I doe daily perish and am evenat the last gaspe and that for
Mistresse for which he humbly entreateth her either to pardon or punish him So taking againe a discourse in hand that he had left he humbly entreats her to weigh the importance of it and to afford her one houre upon that subject Epistle 46. THe discourse you began with me upon the arrivall of the good woman and the bad action she inforced me to commit have incensed new turmoiles in my breast the sence whereof I feele in the indisposition of my body likewise Not Madame that I am sorry for any thing she said to me or I did but that it was in your lodging and almost in your presence which I would have as religious a regard to as to the Temple or the Altar But I am outraged in the resentment you have testified therein and feele so great sorrowes for that I have really sinned against the respect I owe you that I should never receive comfort therein did I not know that her impudence provoked my modesty and that you your selfe Madame pardon that I dare to say it made the first way unto this mischiefe by opening your dore unto her Moreover Madame it was not for any offence she did me that I offended her but for the clamor she made in your lodging which I was not able to endure so as I left not my duty but to enforce her to keepe within hers VVherein Madame I confesse I have done amisse and most humbly intreat you either to pardon or else to punish me for it for any one of them shall content me so you may be satisfied But as to that discourse was entred into by you I hold it a thing so serious as you never did that act wherein there might be more judgement or discretion needfull then in it I will not write thereof unto you but forbeare my advice for besides that the interest of my passions might render it suspected I am still so infortunate in such things as I know you would chuse the contrary to that I might counsell you as you know well you have done erewhiles in the most important actions of your life the repentance wherof is not yet absolutely past You know too Madame that there is no passion in the world so deare to me but your good is yet much more valued of me when you do let me see that it is for your good I shall forbeare to oppose it and most faithfully serve you therein against my owne affection and against my selfe But be you not so rash as to precipitate a designe of that importance without scarce thinking of it Remember you how often I have been unhappily certaine in my predictions and how many deaths I should suffer to see you commit a second error worse then the first But I beseech you grant me the favour I may have one houres discourse with you to morrow on this subject be it a walking or any other where that you shall think convenient to the end I adde not such an apprehension to those sorrowes I groane under as to abandon loose you you that have begot hopes in me much contrary to this despaire The Answer Epistle 47. I Pardon you yet againe this one time but more of my own goodnesse then o'recome by your reasons and I will to morrow afford you an hours conference if so it be in my power The Reply on the same occasion Epistle 48. YOur Indulgences be not absolute Yesterday you pardoned me and to day againe you punish me by forgetting your promise I am neverthelesse ready to endure all as one that you know yours The Argument He saith that he will write to her continually since she hath commanded it and will never lament him for that she hath forbade it Confesseth that he wants the good parts might oblige her to wish him well and that he hath but too many ill ones to merit her bad usage saith that all things worke according to their properties and that he having a heart of flesh and she one of stone it must be that she should be as insensible of his affections as he is quickly sensible of hers Epistle 50. HOwbeit I doe but irritate my ill in going about to expresse it and that it is some kinde of ease to me to complaine I will nerethelesse no way cease to write to you because you have commanded it and never will I lament me because you have forbidden it For besides that complaint is bootlesse and extreamely hurtfull it seemes `to me injust that I should complaine of the ills which I suffer but justly either through th' excesse of your deserts orthrough the want in me No Madame I learne now to acknowledge the wrong I doe you in complaining of you unto your selfe and as I most humbly crave you mercy I likewise confesse that it is at my selfe that I onely ought to take offence for that I have not sufficient good parts to oblige you wish me well and that I have but too many ill ones to merit your bad usage And then it must needs be too that all things should work according to the constitutions of their proper and immediate natures A man should be but laught at that should complain because the day is light and the night dark it being a thing so well knowne that the one cannot be without cleernesse nor the other without shade Wherefore then should I expect lesse on my complaints for that I see you so obdurate in the behalfe of my passions since that hee that made me a heart of flesh made yours of Marble Must it not then be following our owne constitutions that you are as obdurate and insensible of my affections as I am quickly sensible of yours But who renders me thus subtile to produce such reasons as arme your cruelty against my selfe Is it not a proofe of the greatest perfection in love to which the wit of man can attain You Madam amōgst the many slaves which you have captivate have you ever heard whisper'd of an affection so perfect as mine or once heard speech of an Empire so absolute and powerfull as yours But it is unworthily done of me to betray my passions in going about to speak them Learn you them then of your selfe that cause them and beleeve mee more capable of the sufferance therin then of the expression thereof The Argument Shee answers that the cause why shee prayd him to write was that her deserts could not be commended but by the judgment he gave thereof That she sorrowed that a passion so worthily entertained should be for a subject so uncapable of the acknowledgment Epistle 51. IT is not with designe to irritate your ills that I have prayd you write to me It is for that your Letters being welcome still and perfectly well composed cannot but greatly oblige those to whom they are addressed and me more particularly that more particularly doe honour you I agree not neither that you have so many defaults and I so many perfections they be words of
I bee in fit estate to receive it would you vouchsafe it nor doe I now expect it You have used me thus this Twelve month and if this parting should yet happen like the last why my returne were likely then to prove the same Which is the cause that I most humbly request your pardon Madam if not to interest you in my disgraces I bear them to some other place where you shall never be accused of them and if not to importune you with my visits and complaints I write you here this last farwell that you shall ever have of me so long as I live To come home and give it you to speak with you and to see you It needs not that I take here the heavens to witnesse for me that I do desire it since from having too too ardently still coveted it and from having beene over injustly denied it proceeds all my un happinesse But you have too much irritate my sores to heale them now A moment of time wasted in interrrupted teares and unprofitable sighes and yeelded at the point of my departure cannot eface the sorrowes for the time that you so long have still with-held from mee And then it were indeed but now to knit to breake againe to morrow to beat one round and endlesse path againe and againe to ascend one rocke I had rather die then once more thinke of life after the losse of all that ever made mee value it God knowes the outrage that I doe my selfe and the good whereof I doe deprive me But I offer my selfe no violence that you have not constrained mee to nor deprive mee not of any thing you have not first deprived mee All the ills I can apprehend you have already caus'd mee undergo and I have yet this comfort in my griefes that if so be there is nothing I can hope there is also nothing that I can feare It is as now almost a yeare since you did promise mee a boone Alas with what an infinite of gentle thoughts have I still cherisht that without once seeing it yet I render it backe unto you and I beseech you gratifie some other therwithall whose merits are more known unto you and affections more esteemed For me I never shall withdraw mine from an object so lovely as your selfe and shall ever beleeve that as they could not be more ingratefully acknowledged they likewise could never be more worthily employed But I shall leave you at least in peace and never more with my misfortunes will I ever trouble your repose The Answere Epistle 57. IF you depart not to day I shall make you acknowledge you are in the wrong and I entreat I may speake with you If you desire it I will give you to understand of mee at two a Clocke And in the meane time I pray you think you are in an error to complaine of mee The Argument His Mistris being informed hee was in blacks tooke occasion to write word unto him by which she condoled with him the new affliction she beleeved had beene befallen him Epistle 58. I Have learnd that you are habited in mourning and that consequently some new affliction is befallen you The lawes of what is decent and those of my owne inclination cause mee partake therein and to condole with you with so much the greater sorrow that it is unprofitable unto you that I am your servant The Argument After having a long while disputed with himselfe whether hee should answere her Letters or not he tels her that besides the afflictions hee undergoes for her he slighted all such as could happen to him That he could not beleeve that she condoled the ills she dayly augmented And wherefore he beleev'd so Epistle 59. I Disputed long with my selfe whether or no I should read your Letter before I would receive it And whether I should answere it or no when I had read it And not finding me any waies obliged either to the one or the other I thought for sufficient answer to have return'd it you with some others that were better in your hands then in those of a man you have offended Neverthelesse I thought that I ought you yet a word or two and following rather the advise of my passion then that of my reason I chose to breake the oath I had made never to write more unto you before the resolution I have taken ever to honour you to whatsoever contrary effect you may possibly oblige mee I doe let you know then Madame that if I mourne it is not for any new affliction befallen mee and that after those you cause mee I slight all such as can happen to mee That is very true that according unto the Lawes of what is decent and of humanity likewise if you have any you ought therein compatiate But that I can never beleeve that you condole with me an ill that you your selfe doe daily augment letting me finde so many effects contrary to your words as there can be no day of my life wherein I shall not repent me to have beene thereby so much seduced For to what purpose speake you to me of sorrow you that doe all that ere you can to loose and ruine me You have offended mee to death not onely without cause but for such reasons as are most capable of appeasing had I offended you And I have undergone it not onely without revenge but likewise fans complaint continuing still in more respect then in offence If I complaine of you I cannot do it but commending you And if I take offence t is ever gainst my selfe or such as doe defend me against you and render those praises as due rather to my goodnes then your merits You Madam on the contrary seeke to defraud the man that honours you and repaire not the wrongs you have done him but by most irrepairable outrages Be it true that I was offended at the speech you had with mee about the businesse chanced in Easter you have amended that with another much worse that since you held in my absence with distinction of quality which could not be done without passion nor suffer'd but with rage and madnesse I complained that you refused me the honor of your entertaine and conduct and you have satisfied me in affording it to al sorts of people else And walking night by night before my window in company of those you know doe hate mee And after this to write that the Lawes of your inclination enforce you to partake in my misfortunes is it not to take mee for the arrants Wittall ever lived But I see well your meaning you are not content to have heard say that wee fought but you would see it And I shall deeme me most unworthy life and to have dared once to pretend unto your service if I manifest not to you that I am your most obedient servant The Argument She replyes that she is more amarvailed then offended at his Letter and wisheth that all his vanities were in that paper to