Cromwell had refufed to enter into an alliance with that prince, though most agreeable to the interefts of England. He found his Highness employed in befeging Arras, and was received by him with high marks of esteem. During the fiege he often fignalized his courage, and fupported the opinion that was fpread all over Europe of the valour of the parliament officers. But the Marfhal Turenne, with La Ferté and Hoquincourt, having attacked the befiegers in their lines, relieved Arras, and would have deftroyed the Spanish army, if the Prince of Condé had not faved it by a retreat, which was one of the greatest actions of his life. In this battle, Polydore was taken prifoner, and fent to Paris with many other Spanish officers, to continue there till they fhould be ranfomed or exchanged. In the journey, he contracted a great intimacy with the Count d'Aguilar, brigadier under the Count de Fuenfaldagna, and one of the first gentlemen in Spain. As they travelled together several days, they very naturally acquainted one another with the principal incidents of their lives. Polydore related to Aguilar the whole ftory of his marriage with Emilia, and declaimed with great heat against the folly of tying two people thus together, whowifhed nothing fo much as to be loofe. No doubt,' faid the Count, it is • most abfurd: but, to fay the truth, I find nothing very reasonable in the whole affair of inarriage as we have 'made it, I do not know what it may be to other men, but to me it seems horribly unnatural to be confined to any fingle woman, let her be ever fo • agreeable.'

If I had chofen a woman freely, anfwered Polydore, I could be always conftant to her with pleafure; but to • have a companion for life forced upon me, I had rather row in the gallies than fubmit to it.'

You are mistaken, my dear Polydore,' replied the Count, in fancying it fo eafy to be conftant even to a wife of one's own chufing. I have had fome experience of that kind, and know that the first choice is only good till we have made a fecond.

To prove this to you, I need only give you the hiftory of my amours. That you may not think I am telling you a romance, I will begin where romances always end, with the article

of my marriage, I was married at four and twenty to a lady, whom I chofe for her beauty and good fenfe, without troubling myself about her 'fortune, which was but fmall. The three or four first years that we lived together, was the happielt period of my life: I preferved all the ardour of a lover, with the freedom and tendernefs of a husband. She loved me ftill more fondly than I did her; and if I had not left her till the gave me occafion, I believe I should have been ⚫ conftant to this day. But I was not able to hold out any longer: all her charms were become fo familiar to me, that they could not make the leaft impreffion; and I went regularly to her bed, as I did to fupper, with an appetite quite palled by too much plenty In this dull way I drudged on for a ⚫ tedious twelvemonth, till the fight of a relation of my wife's, who came op'portunely to lodge in my own house, rouzed me out of my lethargy, She

was a beautiful creature of eighteen, just taken out of a convent to be married. She knew nothing of the world, but had a natural quick nefs that went farther than experience, However, " as there was fomething a little aukward in her exterior carriage, the Countefs d'Aguilar thought it proper to keep her with her for fome time before her marriage, till the had inftruct et her how to behave her felf in publick. I thought my inftructions might be of ufe to her as well as my wife's, to teach her how to behave hertelf in private; and had the good fortune to make them more agreeable.

She liked me better and better every leffon; and in proportion as her paffion encreased for me, the conceived a ftronger averfion for the man who was defigned to be her husband: and indeed he had no great reafon to be fond of him, for he was a peevish, ftupid, bigotted old fellow, who did nothing day or night but pray and fcold. Her friends preffed the conclufion of her marriage; and, as unwilling as the was to come into it, the could not refift their importunities. Ye, to comfort me, the very fauriv let me know, that he would give her virginity to me in spite of all their teeth; and moreover, that I fhould have it on the welding night. I reprefented to her the improbability of •her

her performing fuch a promife at fuch a time; but the bid me trust to her management, and I should be fatif•fied,

The wedding night came; and when the company was retired, the bride. groom was furprized to fee the bride diffolved in tears. He begged to know the caufe of her affliction; but she • would not tell him, except he swore that, when he knew it, he would do his utmost to remove it.

The poor man, in the vehemence of his love, affured her that he would do any thing to make her eafy, that ⚫ was not contrary to the bonour of a ♦ cavalier, or the injunctions of our holy mother church.'

"No," said she; "the thing I require of you will recommend you "extremely to the church, as it is only «‹ to give me leave to accomplish a vow "I made to the Bleffed Virgin, in a fit "of fickness, when my life was in great ❝ danger."

"Heaven forbid, my pretty child," replied the Don, "that I fhould hinder you from performing a facred vow, ❝to the hazard of your foul!"

"Well then," faid the, "I will own to you that, in my fright, I vowed, that if I could but get well again, "and live to be married, I would confecrate my wedding night to the Bleffed Virgin, by paffing it in the "bed of my waiting woman, the virtuous Ifabella. And this very morning, while I flept, our Lady appear❝ed to me in a dream, and threatened "me with another fit of ficknets, if I "did not keep my word,"

"If it be fo," replied the hufband, "there is no doubt but the Virgin muft "be ferved before me.-. -And fo, my dear, I wish you a good night."

Now you mult know, that the vir, tuous fabella was trufted with all the fecrets of her mistress, and had gone ⚫ between us through the whole course of our amour.

'Accordingly, Madam went to bed to her waiting-woman, who had taken care to inform me of this defign, and concealed me in a closet within her chamber; from whence, as foon as every body was afleep, I was admitted to the place of Ifabella, and received the full acquittance of a promise I httle expected to fee performed.

The fingularity of this adventure fo

delighted me, that I could not help, in the vanity of my heart, discovering it to the Duke de l'Infantada, the most intimate of my friends. He was very thankful for the confidence I repofed in him; and, to reward me for it, betrayed it inftantly to my wife, whom, it feems, he had long made love to without fuccefs. As he thought that the greatest obstacle to his defires was her fondnefs for me, he hoped to re" move it by convincing her of my falfenefs; but though the news of it had like to have broke her heart, it was not able to change it.

might have changed it to your fatif "faction; but this is a fault which, in "spite of all my care, will grow worse

every day." I endeavoured to pacify her by affurances of my future fidelity; and, really, I was fo affected by her behaviour, that I feriously meant to keep my word. But our inclinations are very little in our pow er: my refolution foon yielded to the charms of the Counters Altamira, one of the handsomeft women about the court, but the vaineft, the moft interested, and the most abandoned. She made it a point of honour to fe duce me, out of a defire to mortify my wife, with whom the had quar. relled upon fome female competition of precedency or dress.

Her avarice was equal to her pride; and she made me pay dearly for her 'favours, though her husband was one of the richest men in Spain. I hardly ever went to her without a prefent of ⚫ fome kind or other; and my fortune began to fuffer by my expence: yet I was fo bewitched to her, that, though I heartily defpifed her, I could not help loving her to madness,

One day, when I came to fee her after an abfence that had raised my defires to the higheft pitch, the receiv

ed

4 mour that tortured me beyond expref

fion. I conjured her to acquaint me • with the caule of it; and fhe told me, that the last time he was at court, the had feen the Countefs d'Aguilar with a diamond-necklace on, which I had given her the day before: that my making fuch prefents to another wo. in the midft of our intrigue, was man, an infult fhe was determined not to bear; and that, fince I was grown fo fond a husband, fhe could not but • make a confcience of disturbing our conjugal felicity.

I offered her any fatisfaction she would ask; and the malicious devil had the impudence to tell me, that nothing could fatisfy her, but my taking C away that necklace from my wife, and giving it her. I entreated her to < accept of another of twice it's value; but the replied, thas her honour was concerned; and in short she would have that, and that alone. Overcome, with her importunities, I went home, and <ftole it for her; but made her promise me folemnly to be very cautious that my wife fhould never fee it in her pof• feffion.

About three days after, word was brought me, that the Countefs d'Aguilar had fainted away in the antichamber of the queen, and was gone ⚫ home in great diforder to her mother's the Countefs of Pacheco.

"I went immediately thither in fuch a fright, as convinced me I loved her better than I thought I did: but imagine my confufion, when the inform⚫ed me, that she had fainted at the fight ⚫ of her own diamonds on the neck of the Countess Altamira! She added, that it was no mystery to her, nor to any body elfe, how that lady came by them; and that, to fave herself the mortification of any more fuch publick ⚫ affronts, she would no longer live with me as my wife, but leave me at full liberty to please myself, as my licentious inclination fhould direct.

I used my utmost eloquence to prevail on her to come home to me again; but the remained inflexible, and faid ་ no more to all my proteítations, but that if her paft conduct had not been able to fix my heart, the defpaired of doing it for the future,

After living without her half a year, I was ordered to my regiment in Flan,

fion to leave Madrid, where the re་ gret of her feparation was fuch a pain to me, that it entirely funk my fpi rits, Since my arrival in the army, I have writ to her three or four letters, but the didained to make me any anfwer; and I have reafon to believe, that her high spirit has by this time " got the better of her love.

6

For my part, I endeavour to amuse myfelf the best I can with other wo· men: and I defire, my dear Polydore, that we may be always reciprocal confidants of every intrigue that we engage in during our ftay in France. Polydore thanked him, and affured him that, on his part, he fhould meet with no referve. When they came to Paris, his first care was to enquire what was become of Septimius and Emilia, whom he had heard no account of for many years. He was informed, that Septimius was dead, and his daugh ter gone from Paris. His curiofity made him write to his friends in England, to ask if he was there. They anfwered him, that every body believed fhe was dead in France, having receiv ed no news of her a great while. Polydore was mightily pleafed with this account, and fancied himself very happy in being a widower, though he had given himself no trouble to support the character of a husband. The two friends had not refided long at Paris before they were exchanged for fome French officers who were taken prifoners by the Prince of Condé. They returned to the army; but the feafon not permitting them to come to any action, they agreed to pafs the winter at Bruffels, in the court of the archduke. They had not been there above a month, before Aguilar ac quainted his English friend that he had begun an intrigue with a French lady, who lived in a very retired manner, which he believed was owing to her circumftances; that he had feen her twa or three times, by means of a woman at whole houfe the lodged, whose good offices he had fec red by a handfome bribe. He added, that he would carry Polydore to fee her the next vilit that he made. Accordingly, they went together to Mademoiselle Dalincourt, for that was the name of Aguilar's new mistress. At their coming in, Da lincourt feemed much surprized, changed colour, and was not able to speak a

Word

word. The count, alarmed at her diforder, fufpected fome lover had been with her; and told her, with an air of difcontent, that he was forry he came at fo wrong a time. She endeavoured to shake off her confufion, and replied, that he was always very welcome; but that the gentleman he brought with him had fo much resemblance, of a brother of hers, who was killed in Flanders, that at first fight he could not help being ftruck with it in the manner they had feen. She added, that if the gentleman was as like her brother in mind, as he was in form, the should be nightily pleafed with his acquaintance. She spoke this with such an air of fincerity, that the count began to think his jealoufy was without foundation.

After fome general difcourfe, the applied to Polydore, and asked him how long he had been engaged in the Spanish fervice; with many other more particular enquiries, which feemed to intimate a defire to know him better. Polydore was very glad of it, in hopes to ferve his friend; and the count, who had no fufpicions on that fide, did his utmost to engage them in a friendship which he imagined would turn to his advantage.

At night, when the two gentlemen went home together, Aguilar afked his companion, what he thought of Dalincourt's perfon and understanding. ‘Better of the laft than the firit, anfwered he, though both are certainly agreeable. I cannot help thinking,' continued he, that her perfon is not quite new to me; but I cannot recollect where I met with her, except it was at Paris when I was there a boy.' -You will do well to improve your ⚫ acquaintance now,' replied the count;

and, to give you an opportunity of doing it, I will fend you there to-mor row, to make my excufes for being obliged to hunt with the archduke, inftead of waiting on her, as I intended. I know my dear Polydore • will employ all his wit and eloquence 4 to fet his friend's paffion in the best • light; and while he is with her, I shall

have lefs uneafinefs in being away.' Polydore promifed him all the fervices he could do him; but faid, he wished he had got a miftrefs too, to make the party even.

The next day he went to her, and faid a great deal in praife of Aguilar, to difcover what he thought of him.

She answered him with terms of a cold efteem, but nothing that gave him the leaft encouragement to believe she was in love. He then endeavoured to perfuade her of the violence of the count's paffion for her; but he affured him, that this was the only fubject she did not care to hear him talk of. He returned to his friend, quite difcouraged at her manner of proceeding, and told him there was nothing to be hoped for. The count fhewed him a letter he had just received from his confidante, the lady of the houfe; which advised him not to think of gaining Dalincourt by a timorous refpect; but to offer her at once a handfome fettlement, which the straitness of her fortune wonld make her listen to much more kindly than fhe did to his fine fpeeches.

This indeed may do fomething,' faid Polydore; for I found, by her difcourfe, that he had been reduced, by a series of misfortunes, to a con'dition very much beneath her birth." In conclufion, they agreed to make a trial, whether he was to be bought or not; and Polydore was made the bearer of a letter which contained a very liberal propofal. She read it, looked at Polydore fome time without faying a word, and at last burft out into a flood of tears.

I thought,' faid fhe, recovering her voice, that it had not been in the power of my ill deftiny to make me more unhappy: but I now find that my mif fortunes have funk me lower than I ever was aware of; fince two gentlemen, whofe efteem I wished to gain, think fo meanly of me, as to imagine me a proper person to receive fuch a letter. But know, Sir, that I am as much a ftranger to infamy, as I am to ♦ happiness; and have a fpirit fuperior to all the wrongs that your infolent fex can put upon me. Had not you dif graced yourself by the scandalous em•ployment of endeavouring to seduce me with a dirty bribe, I should have been happy in seeing you often herej but muft now defire you to trouble " me no more, and to tell your friend, as my answer to his letter, that I would fooner give my felt to a footman, than fell myfelf to a prince.'

Polydore was infinitely ftruck with this reception; every word the uttered pierced him to the heart; and he looked upon her as a miracle of virtue, fuch an

He

He never had any notion of before. returned to the count in great confufion, and acquainted him with the ill fuccefs of his commiffion. Aguilar, more in love with her than ever, writ a most submiffive letter to beg her pardon, but the inftantly fent it back unopened. When he found all his courtship was ineffectual, he left Bruffels in defpair, and retired to a villa of one of his friends, where he refolved to ftay till the opening of the campaign. In the mean while, Polydore, who continued ftill at Bruffels, was in a fitnation little easier than his friend. Mademoiselle Dalincourt took up all his thoughts; he repeated to him.felf a thousand times the laft words he heard her fpeak, and admired the fpirit that appeared in them to a degree of adoration.

Not being able to bear her abfence any longer, he sent to beg that he might fee her once again, upon a bulinefs wholly relating to himfelf. She admitted him, and began the converfation, by ftrictly forbidding him to name the count in any thing he had to say to her. I have no inclination to name him,' replied he; for I would willingly forget that I ever knew him. I am fentible that I wrong him, in declaring to you, that I love you more than life; yet, as his paffion is "quite deftitute of hope, why thould • not I folicit you for a heart to which he has no pretenfions? But, be my ⚫ conduct right or not in regard to him, to you, Madam, it fhall ever be moft honourable. I come to offer you my whole fortune upon fuch terms as your virtue need not blush at. I am ་ a widower, and free to marry whom I please; my eftate is fufficient for us both, and I am happy to think it in my power to raise you to that rank which you were born to. This, Madam, is the only reparation by which I can atone for the affront I did your character; and, if you refuse to accept of it, my defpair will be equal to my love."

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The lady anfwered him, with blufhes, that he was highly sensible of the sen. timents he expreffed for her; that the liked hisperfon, and admired his undertanding; but that, to her misfortune, The was married already; and therefore could fay nothing to his propofal. "Good Heaven!' cried Polydore, you are married! And who then is your

hufband? The moft unworthy of mankind,' anfwered the; one who has abandoned me to the malice of · my fortune, and does not know at this time what is become of me, nor troubles himself about it.' He is indeed unworthy,' replied the lover, who is poffeffed of fuch a treafure, • and can neglect it. But, Madam, • employ me in your revenge: com

mand my fword to pierce the mon'fter's heart, and tear it from his bofom! No,' faid the; your fafety is more dear to me than the defire of · revenge. All I afk of you is, to fwear that you will never be like that husband; but continue to love me equally when you know me better: upon this condition, I will grant you all the favours which my duty will allow; and, perhaps, your future conduct may prevail upon me to throw off all reftraint.'

The happy Polydore fwore every thing fhe defired, and the permitted him to fee her when he pleased; but, being informed by him of the treachery of her friend at whofe houfe the lodged, they agreed to make their appointments at another place.

They continued this commerce for fome time without any interruption, till the Count d'Aguilar had notice of it from his confidante, who perceived it in spite of all their caution.

Never was rage equal to his at this difcovery. He writ to Polydore, reproaching him with his breach of friend fhip in the bittereft terms, and required him to meet him with his fword, behind the walls of a nunnery that was fituated about two leagues out of Bruffels. Polydore accepted of the challenge, and met him at the place appointed: he attempted to justify himself; but the count had not the patience to hear him out; they fought with great fury a good while, till the fortune of Polydore prevailed, and the count fainted away with the lofs of blood from two of the wounds which he had received. The other feeing him fall, thought him dead, and nade off with the utmost precipitation.

Juft at that inftant came by a coach and fix, which was driving towards the nunnery: a lady who was in it feeing a gentleman lying weltering in his blood, ftopped her coach, and went to try if the could affft him. At the fight

of