{Print edition page number: 251}

Rivall Fri[e]ndship ^[1]

THE SECOND PART

The First Book

If you remember Arthenia (said Celia) I was travelling in my discourse from Scythia back to Persia; and ere I proceed further, we will turne aside to see what is becoming of Artabella, who after Phasellus’s departure to the Scythian Warre, retir’d to her Castle in Shiras, where poore Princess she remain’d very sad and pencive; perpetually dreading she should heare he was either dead, or a Prisoner, being she had not for the Space of foure whole moneths heard either of, or from him, which made her suspect one of those two was his condition: the apprehension of which misfortune when it had once possest her fancy, it fill’d her mind with so much sadness, as she could hardly have resented [felt] more, had her doubts been chang’d into a certainty. In this perplexity was she when there came two Gentlemen to the Castle desiring to speak with her; she hoping they might bring her newes of Phasellus, instantly admitted them in; who after they had render’d her the respect that was due to her quality, the One of them told her, they were sent by the Queen to waite on her back to Court, who desir’d her speedy returne thither. She having not as yet heard so much as the least rumour of the Kings death, admir’d to heare them mention a Queen; but not to be longer in doubt, she ask’d him who spake, what Queen he meant.

The Princess Oriana Madam (said he) who by the death of Achemenes is now our Queen.

Oh Heavens! (cry’d she) is Achemenes dead, what ignorance have I liv’d in, that till this instant never heard of it.

He hearing her say so, gave her the relation of the Kings death, which having heard with as true a sorrow as [fol. 109^r] so good a nature as that of hers was capable of resenting [feeling], she retir’d a while in private to vent her griefe{252} in teares, which she believ’d due as a just Tribute to the memory of her Royall Uncle. When the height of her passion was a litle over, she sent for those Gentlemen in again, to inquire more perticulerly concerning the state of affaires; but though she made that her pretence, her chiefe aime was to see if she could learne what was become of Phasellus: many questions did she aske ere she could aske that which she most desir’d (yet fear’d) to be resolv’d of, doubting her affection might make her betray the concerne she had for him: but at last after she had made an inquirie after all the Persians of quality that went with the Armie into Scythia, she demanded what was become of him who went Generall, and his Friend that came with him into Persia. To which, he that had spoken before repli’d, that Diomed was not yet return’d, but lay dangerously wounded still in Scythia, but Phasellus was come back about ten days since, and was at that present at Court. This somewhat cheer’d up her disconsolate mind, and dispell’d all her former doubts and feares but new ones immediately after usurp’d their place; for then she fancied he had forgot her, and all those promises he had made her of an unchangable fidelity, and unalterable affection, or if at all he thought on her, she believ’d t’was onely with indifferency, or else she thought it impossible (if he continu’d still the same passion that he so oft protested to have had for her) for him to be in Susa ten days, and neither see her, nor send to her to excuse himself for such a high neglect: but resolving not to pass too severe a censure on him, nor condemne him meerly upon suspition, she pacifi’d her disquiet thoughts as well as she could till such time as she arriv’d at Susa; where she question’d not but she should see him and heare from himself the occation of his disrespective silence; which if he could not give her good satisfaction for, she determin’d no longer then to throw away a Love so pure, and innocent, on one who had made himself unworthy of it, but to treat him answerable to his deserts.

No longer then the next morning would she defer her Journey, and accordingly gave order for her Chariot to be ready very early; but she took none of her servants with her save onely Saparilla and Admetus that had been formerly a Page to Menzor (who for his approv’d Fidelity to her Father) was after his Masters death advanced by her ^to^ the chiefest place about her person: with these two, and Gentlemen that Oriana had sent for her, she began her Journey, leaving a command with the rest of her servants to follow her with what convenient speed they could. The day after they left Shiras, at the enterance of a great Wood, they were suddenly surrounded by twenty horsemen who set upon them [fol. 109^v] vowing to kill the Charoteer if he drove not whether they should direct. Artabella was so terrifi’d with such an unexpected surprisall, and the menaces wherewith they threatned those with her, and not being able to imagin their designe, or what they intended to do with her, as she fell into a swound, and remain’d in it so long, when she came to herselfe again, she had the misfortune to behold both the gentlemen that accompani’d her slain, and poor Admetus so desperatly wounded, as he was fallen by her Chariot unable longer to resist; which when she saw, she exprest much sorrow for him, intreating those that had reduced him to that condition,{253} that they would not be so cruell to leave him so, but that they would put him into the Chariot, till such time as she came to some place where she might leave him to be look’d too by some who might take care of him: but they having as little of civility as pity, absolutely refus’d her request, compelling the Charioteere to drive quite another way from that she was going with all the hast he could make. At last came up to them another, that seem’d to command the others, who by his deportment express’d much more of humanity then any of the rest, for seeing Artabella weep excessively, he desir’d her (in very civill language) not to grieve so much since they had no intent to do her any further wronge, nor should she receive any prejudice more then what she already suffer’d; and that what they did was meerly in obedience to the commands of a person whom they durst not disobey.

But may I not know (said Artabella) whether you intend to carry me.

You shall know that e’re long Madam (repli’d he).

[T]his was all the answere that at present she could get, in which she found but small satisfaction.

The rest of the day they travelled without any let, or molestation; but as night drew on, they enter’d into a vast Desart cover’d all with sand which by reason of contrary winds was driven up and downe in such a manner as no track or beaten rode was to be found. By this time Artabella grew very weary, which Saparilla perceiving, ask’d those in whose power they were, whether there were any Towne, or Village neer where her Lady might stay to repose herself: but she was answer’d that there was none till they came to the end of that Desart, through which they must travell all night, and rest in the day; or else they might be in danger to be buried alive in that sandy Ocean, having nothing to guide them in their Journey but the course of the Stares: but assoon as the day appear’d they stop’d telling Artabella, if she had a desire to repose herselfe, she must rest in her Chariot, on unless she would make the Sand her bed as they must be faine to do. He who seem’d the most civill amongst them, appear’d much concern’d at the sight of her griefe, which may well be thought to be extreame, to see herself forceably carried away by such Fellowes as those into whose hands she was fallen, whose design she could as litle imagine, as learne from them; and though she did whatever she could to [fol. 110^r] fortifie her mind against Fortunes batteries, yet was she not able to refraine testifying by her teares, those Feares that assail’d her: the sight of so much griefe in Artabella moved Ozmin (for so ^was^ that more civiliz’d person call’d) to tell her that he was sorry for the trouble he had caus’d her, and that he repented he had taken upon him such an employment.

And were it not (said he) that I am ingag’d by such binding Oathes as no consideration can oblige me to dispence with, I should never execute what I have undertaken, but should instead thereof carry you back to Shiras, or conduct you any whither else you should desire.{254}

If you have that sense of my sorrow (repli’d she) as you pretend, do me but the favour to let me know what that is which you have undertook to do, and whether you intend to hurry me with soe much violence.

We are carrying you Madam (said he) to Zarispe, a Citie in the furthest part of Bactria (in which Province we are now) where I am to see you imbark on the River Ochus (which runs by that City) for what Kingdome you like best to spend the rest of your Life in, for into Persia you must never more returne; to which (by an inviolable promise) I am to engage you ere you go thence; or else to keep you a perpetuall Prisoner in a house I have a^d^joining to the City.

For Heaven’s sake (cry’d she) who may that unjust, and cruell person be, that is so much my enemy.

For that Madam (answered he) you must excuse me; onely thus much I will presume to tell you, he is One who will ere long have a power in this Kingdom equall to our Queens, and is already so potent, as neither I, nor my Companions durst deny obedience to his commands, had they been more unjust; without pulling on our selves some exemplary punishment.

This answere fill’d Artabella with as much astonishment, as she was before with griefe; for who could unless by an unjust usurpation of Oriana’s p[r]erogative, condemne her to a perpetuall banishment, she could not conceive: and then she reflected on the Queen with no less a concern then on herself; fearing she was fallen into some trouble since the Kings death through the ambitious pretences of some aspiring Rebell; but why his injuries should extend to her she could not imagine.

Then after a litle silence, Oh wicked men (said she) do you feare the punishments of men, more then the Justice of the Gods, who will assuredly revenge the violence wherewith you persecute the Innocent; for so harmlessly and innocently have I spent my days, that to my knowledge I never so much as disoblig’d any person in my life, nor ever did I commit a the least offence against any one that might incite them to injure me in so high a degree, as to force me to take an eternall farewell of my native Country, and to wander forelorn and helpless in a foreign Land, not having any [fol. 110^v] thing to sustaine or keep me from necessity and want, but what will soon be exhausted.

If that were the greatest of your troubles Madam (said Ozmin) you might quickly be eas’d of it; for if you will but let me know where you intend to make your aboad, I have order to send you annually the whole revenue of your estate; or else you have the liberty to sell, or dispose of it as you think best for your advantage, for hither you must ne’re ^returne^ again to enjoy it.

After this he took out some Meat which they had provided for themselves, and presenting some of it to Artabella, pray’d her she would be pleas’d to satisfy her hunger (which he said, he knew she must of necessity suffer, not having eaten any thing in so long time) with it, till they could procure something more agreeable for her.{255}

Though it were much better (answer’d she) for me to dye here by Famine, then eate to preserve a miserable life to linger it out in an unknown Country, yet will I never merit my misfortunes by any willfull Crime; which doubtless I should, if I became an Accessary to my owne death. No, I will rather by a submission to the Will of the Gods with patience suffer whatever tis their pleasure to permit wicked persons to inflict upon me: therefore were it not that the terrour of so unlook’d for a surprize, and the trouble I have since undergone has so indispos’d me as I am not in a condition to accept your proffer, I should not refuse it; but receive it as a civility from a man, from whom (after what I had seen you do to my prejudice) I expected nothing but the height of cruelty.

He then made the same offer to Saparilla, but she, whether it were out of complacence to her Lady, or that she had really the same reason to refrain eating, refus’d it likewise. That evening, just as darkness began to draw his sable Curtain to obscure the brightness of the day, they arriv’d at Zarispe, and soon after at that house which was destin’d for Artabella’s Prison in case she refus’d to consent to a perpetuall banishment: at first she had some thoughts of confining herself to a Prison, rather then become an Exile; but then, those thoughts gave place to others more reasonable, which made her fancy thraldome more insupportable then liberty though purchaced at no less a rate, then an ad^i^ue [adieu] forever to her Country, Friends, Relations, and Acquaintance; for she considered, that if she stay’d, she was as litle like to enjoy the sight or conversation of any of them, as if she were in the remotest part of the Universe; and besides she hop’d, in what part of the World soe’re she was (if she were free) she might find an opportunity to let Phasellus know where she was; who inspight of her resentment [feelings] against him, was still dearer to her then all the World besides: and if his affection continu’d with that ardour she [fol. 111^r] might justly expect, she doubted not but he would abandon all advantages he might pretend to by staying in Persia to come to her; and so much did this hope fortifie her in her last opinion, as she resolv’d to prefer liberty before Captivity.

By this time they were come to the house whether they were to goe; which seem’d to be an old ruinous Castle, built all of stone, very stronge, upon a hill of an indifferent height, from whence one might behold the Caspian Sea not far distant, into which the River Ochus (which ran by the Castle Wall) emptied it self. About some three furlongs from Zarispe, on the further side of it was this Castle situate; whether being come, and alighted, Ozmin (to whose custody the Princess was committed) conducted her in, where she found a much better accommodation then the outside of those ruines promist: for though it was gone much to decay, and a great part of it fallen downe, yet there remained enough to entertaine conveniently a far greater number of persons then at present it contain’d. Artabella, and Saparilla were brought into a very faire Chamber, fitted with all necessaries, and indifferintly well furnish’d; save that the furniture thereof was sutable to the Castle, something old, and decai’d; here she repos’d herself a while on a Bed which was in the Chamber: and conjecturing Saparilla’s{256} weariness by her owne, she made her ly downe by her to rest her likewise. When they were alone the Princess imparted her resolution to the deare Companion of her misfortunes, with the reasons she had for it; which Saparilla could not but approve of.

And when they had a while remained silent, Artabella turning to her said. Though the Gods are pleas’d to lay on me this affliction for the punishment of some Offence, which questionless I am guilty of towards them, it would be unjust in me to make thee miserable, [be]cause I am so, in desiring thou shouldst tye thyselfe to the fortune of this unhappie Creature; No, dear Saparilla (pursu’d she) though thy company be very pleasing, and the onely comfort indeed that I have left me, yet so well I love thee, as for thy sake to deprive my self of it. Leave me then I conjure thee, if I can obtain so much favour of the man to whose charge I am committed, to send thee safe to Susa, Shiras, or any other place thou lik’st better; that thou mayst no longer follow me who am destin’d to nothing but misery; my Castle at Shiras I freely give thee and all the estate belonging to it, as a reward for thy Fidelity.

But Saparilla not being able any longer to lend an eare to [fol. 111^v] the desires of her Lady, burst forth most bitterly a weeping. Ah Madam (said she) what have I done to give you cause to suspect I have so base, so meane a spirit as that I can be tempted by the hopes of gain or advantage to abandon you in your affliction: were I One, who follow’d your Fortune rather then your Selfe, I might then (perhaps) be perswaded to forsake you with it, especially having such an advantagious proffer as that you made me: but Heaven knowes, I never pretended to more, then I already injoy in the honor to be neer your person, and to possess the favour of your esteeme; which till this instant I ne’re had the least cause to doubt. But sure Madam (pursu’d she) poor Saparilla has but litle share in it, if you can admit such an unjust opinion of her, as to think her so unworthy, as that she will ever forsake you in adversity. No, no Madam, that’s too weak (how great soever) to fright me from your service; then if my sight be not offencive, nor my company troublesome, speak no more of banishing me from you; for I am absolutely determin’d never to forsake you neither in life nor death.

With that Artabella took her in her Armes, and pressing her with all the ardencie of a most passionate affection. I am not so unhappie (said she) as I late believ’d my self, since in the person of a faithfull servant, I have found a most unfeigned Friend: then seeing thy affection is strong enough to carry thee thorow all those dangers, I may (nay questionless must) encounter, and that I find thee the same in my adverse, that thou wert in my more prosperous condition, nothing but Death shall separate us.

By this time, the Table in their Chamber was cover’d, and a very handsome supper serv’d up by persons to attend the Princess; and so soon as she and Saparilla had eaten, and the meat carried away, being exceeding weary they went to bed.{257}

The next day when Ozmin thought Artabella might be in a condition to be seen, he sent to know whether he might be admitted; she knowing but too well the power he had over her, and finding him much civiller then she expected, gave him the permission he desir’d; and presently after he came in.

I come Madam (said he) to aske your resolution; not that I intend to hastne hasten you away (if it be so that you determine to depart) till such time as you have well recover’d that weariness you have contracted by so incomodious a Journey; but this I will tell you Madam, the person by whose order you are to become either an Exile, or a Prisoner, declar’d he would ^rather you should^ make choice of the latter; being unwilling (as he said) you should be expos’d to the dangers of the sea: nor would he (he protested) have expos’d [fol. 112^r] you to what you have already suffer’d could he have deviz’d any other way to secure himself from an inevitable ruine; and therefore Madam in my opinion, he is not so much your Foe, as his owne Friend; and does but what some unavoidable necessity constrains him too since all persons are oblig’d to seek their owne preservations, though by the ruines of others.

Tis very true (interrupted she) some will do so, but a Generous man will rather perish then seek his security by injuring the Innocent.

But Madam (pursu’d he) if you will preferre Imprisonment before banishment, I am commanded to settle you a Family as large as that you left behind you, and to treat you with so much respect, that you may find no difference in the condition you are in now, and that you were lately in (baiting your confinement to this Place) which perhaps hereafter may not be altogether so displeasing as it is at present.

Good Gods (cry’d she) what a strange misterious Fate is mine, that makes me persecuted by One, who in the midst of all his injuries, seemes as if he would have me thinke he meant to favour me, by intermingling with his harsh usage some shew of respect. But if I find (continu’d she) such a treatment as you make me hope, possibly I may prefer captivity before the other to which I am destin’d, though Libertie be exceeding sweet in what condition soever: but however I desire a day or two to consider of what you have said, ere I give you my finall resolve.

To this he consented, and told her she might have the Freedome to walk in the Garden when ever she pleas’d: in which he said, haply she might find some litle diversion: for though at present it be gone much to decay (added he) yet was it once the most beautifull and pleasant Garden in all this Province, and exceeded by few in Persia.

Though I shall never acknowledge my selfe oblig’d (repli’d she) to him who sent me hither, yet I must to you for executing your Commission with so much moderation.

Dinner being now brought in, Ozmin would have withdrawn; but Artabella invited him to stay and dine with her, that by her courtesie she might oblige him to a continuance of his civility; but he refus’d the honour she would have done{258} him, saying he knew too well what was due from Ozmin to the Princess Artabella in what condition soever she was, not to abuse her goodness, by presuming to accept a Favour whereof he was altogether unworthy;

[B]ut I will attend you after dinner Madam (continu’d he) or when ever you please to waite on you into the Garden; with that he went away, after the Princess had told him she would not walke till toward the evening, lest the Sun might be offencive to her.

About the time that Ozmin thought Artabella would take a walk, he return’d to carry her into the Garden, which she found answerable to what he had said of it. Many delicate Fountains, pleasant Walks, Arbours, [fol. 112^v] and solitary Groves there were in it, set so thick with Trees as the Sun could never pierce them; and in those Trees, perpetually resided severall sorts of pretty Birds chaunting forth their rurall musick with much sweetness and delight: but of all those places he shew’d her, none so well pleased her Fancy as a Walk which was set on the one side with Orange trees, and Mirtles intermix’t, the other side being open to the River, and at one end of it a Mount rais’d to a very great height, in which were steps made for the more easie ascent. This place presented her with the most pleasant Prospect that could be seen, for it had not onely the full view of the Sea for many Leagues, but also the prospect of all the country thereabout; which though some part of it was nothing but a sandy baren Desart, yet that part of it about Zarispe was the richest, and most fertill soile in Persia, abounding with Corne, and all sorts of Fruits (except Olives) rich Mettalls, and some precious stones it had in it, as Emralds, Crisolits, and Jacinthes; many delicate Meddows, and Fields of Pasture well stor’d with Cattell.^[2]

But I stand too long on the description of this place, having many things more materiall to relate (pursu’d Celia) therefore I shall say no more of it, well and onely tell you Madam that Artabella was so taken with this Walke that she spent much of her time in it, attended onely by Saparilla; for the Garden Wall was of such an excessive height as Ozmin believ’d there was no danger of her escaping thence, unless she would throw herself into the River, so that she had the freedome to walke there as oft as she pleas’d; which priviledge she many times made use of: and one day as she was upon that Walk she took so much delight in, she espi’d some Ships saile by on the other side of the Channell; this sight gave her some litle hope that she might at some time or other find a meanes to get thence without an engagement ne’re to returne to Persia more. This hope made her feign a much greater content then before, and seem so well satisfi’d with her imprisonment, that she told Ozmin, if he treated her no worse then hitherto he had done, her Captivity would be much more supportable then at first she believ’d it would; nor should she much complain of those that sent her{259} thither: and that she was now resolv’d to end her days there rather then expose herselfe to new perills.

At this determination Ozmin seem’d very joyfull; and assur’d her, if her usage had not hitherto offended her, she should have no reason to be displeas’d with it for the future; protesting he would make it his business to study how he might make that place (if possible) as delightfull to her as her Castle at Shiras had been: and to that end, he presently set a great many men on work to trime the Garden, and [fol. 113^r] repaire the ruines of the Castle, that it might be a fit habitation for a person of her quality. This pretended resolution of Artabella’s, fill’d Ozmin with such securitie as she was guarded less strictly then before; and except liberty to stire out of the precincts of the Castle, she had all the freedome she could wish; which much facilitated her designe, which not long after she had an opportunity of accomplishing: for one evening as she and Saparilla were standing on the Mount, they espi’d a Ship sailing towards them, which Artabella no sooner saw, but she resolv’d to make use of it to effect her purpose, which she imparted to her Faithfull servant. When it was come so neer as those in it might discerne their actions they both of them together beckon’d to them to come neerer (not dareing to call to them for feare of being overheard) and both of them spreading out their hands, and bringing them together again in a suppliant posture; which was quickly understood by the Master of the Ship, who was the first that took notice of their actions; which assoon as he had seen tack’d about, and in a litle time came so neere, as causing the Long Boate to be cast out, he put himself into it, and came close under the Wall where they stood. When he was come nigh enough to be heard without difficulty, he demanded what it was they desir’d but before Artabella repli’d to his question, she ask’d him whether he was going.

I am bound for Bizantium in Thrace (answer’d he) where I live, being a Merchant by proffession; and having been in Egipt am now returning home.

If you have any sensibility of, or compassion for the miseries of the distressed (cry’d she) you will never meet with fitter subjects whereon to exercise your pity then on us, who beg you to free us from miseries as great, as the impossibility we have to escape them if you refuse to receive us into your Ship: but if you will be so generous to grant, what I’le earnestly implore, no recompence you can aske, but I shall account too meane for such a service.

Whilst she was speaking, he heedfully consider’d her Majestick garb, and gracefull manner of speaking, from whence he concluded she was no ordinary person that implor’d his aide; whereupon he stay’d not to consult whether or no he should grant her request, but readily consenting; yes Madam (repli’d he) I will assist you in what you desire: but whether would you be carried.

Any whether (answer’ed she hastily) do but deliver me from this hatefull place, and I care not.

With that he threw her up some Ropes: which he told her must be fastned to some of the Trees, that by them they might slip downe into the Boat, being too high to get downe any other way. She instantly sent Saparilla to her Chamber for{260} a Cabinet she had, wherein were many Jewells of great value, being unwilling to leave them behind her; this she might easily enough do, having a paire of staires that went directly out of the Garden up to her Chamber. In the meantime the [fol. 113 ^v] Princess try’d to fasten the Ropes, which with much difficulty she effected by that time Saparilla return’d; and sliding downe by them she got into the Boat though not without much Pain; for her hands being very tender, the hardness of the Ropes had all drawn off the skin: but she thought not of her pain, her Joy was so great to find herselfe so neer regaining her Liberty. When she was once got into the Boat, Saparilla stay’d not long ere she got thither too, and presently they came to the Ship, which was but a litle distance off; the Master of the Ship first geting up himself, holpe them so well, as they got into the Shipe much more easily then they did into the Boate: and having hois’d saile they made all possible speed to la[u]nch out into the maine Ocean, and soon lost sight both of Zarispe, and Artabellas Prison. How Ozmin resented [felt about] her flight I know not, nor is it much materiall to enquire; though without question he could not be very well pleas’d to find himself deceiv’d with so much subtilty at a time when he thought himself most secure of her stay.

All day they sail’d very prosperously, but towards night the Sky, which till then had been very cleare, and serene, began to be o’re spread with black and dusky Clouds; and a litle after, the winds began with gentle whistlings to play with the sailes, which fill’d the Sailors with some apprehensions of an insuing storme: but those Feares quickly grew greater by the sight of certaine Fishes call’d Porposes, which began to play upon the water, and never appear’d but to presage some more then ordinary Tempest. Which having seen, without delay they prepar’d for it, repairing with all diligence the defects of their Ship, wherby they might sustaine any prejudice: and because of the nights approach they cast Anchour, resolving there to wait the fury of the Storme, lest in the nights darkness it might precipetate them on some Rock. Their apprehensions were not causeless, for the Sun had scarce left this Hemisphere to go visit the Western shades, when the Windes began from those soft whispers, to blow more rougher Gales; and at last ris to that height, as with its violence it rais’d such Mountains of the Waves, that they seem’d every moment to be o’rewhelm’d with those Billows that rowl’d o’re them. The noise of the Winds, the roreing of the Waves, and the clamour of the Seamen calling to their Fellows calling one to the other, made such a horrible din, and such a strang confused noise that the horrour of that, and the apprehension of that danger which threatned them, was able to daunt a stouter courage then Artabellas, and therfore it was no marvell if she who had never seen the sea, but since her coming to Zarispe, should be exceedingly terrified with that which was dreadfull enough to those who daily had experience of the deliverances they had from such dangers.

The truth is, feare and horrour had so ceas’d the spirits both of her and Saparilla, that they were in a manner senseless of their condition; and besides, the tossings of the ship, and its routing to and froe, made them so very sick, that{260} they could not think of death any other way, then by that indisposition which they felt; though that was nothing [fol. 114^r] but what was usuall with those that never were upon the sea before: but at length the storme increas’d to that height, that the strength of the Waves broke all the Cables which fastned the Ankers to the Ship, and by that meanes left them to the mercy of that merciless Element; where they all that dismall night floated in dispaire, having lost all hopes of safty by the loss of their Ankers; having nothing now to relie on but the Goodness of the Gods, to whom they addrest themselves with as much devotion as those distracting terrours they were ceaz’d with would permit them. At length the day appear’d, if it may be call’d a day which so resembled the night, as hardly any difference could be discerned between them; for so black, and cloudy was the Face of Heaven, that the Sun had but litle power to give them any comfort with its enlightning Rays. For three whole days they remain’d in this hopeless condition; sometimes all cover’d with waves, expecting every minute to be swallow’d by them; then again, carried on the top of others so high, that they seem’d transported even to the very clouds; then suddenly brought downe so low, as they believ’d themselves quite buried in those watery Graves: but on the fourth day this furious storme something abated, and Neptune began to tye up again those boisterous Spirits which had rag’d with so much violence since he gave them liberty; and at last the Sun brake forth, dispelling all those Vapours which had so long obscur’d, or rather totally eclips’d his splendour, restoring that hope which had quite abandon’d those poor Wretches.

Serastes (for so was the Master of the Ship call’d) seeing the danger past for that time, went to carry Artabella that assurance, which he believ’d, could not but be to her very wellcome newes. Dispell your feares Madam (said he) the storme is over; and I hope the Gods who have been so mercifull as to preserve us from the fury of this Tempest (which to say truth was the greatest I ever yet was in) will bring us safe to the end of our Voyage, though it must be much longer then I design’d it; for I find we have pass’d the Hellespont, and are come into Greece: so that we must be constrain’d to fetch a compass which will cost us many days ere we arrive at Bizantium.

Since there is no remedy (repli’d she) we must be content to suffer the inconveniencies of so long a Voyage; but can you not land me at some Port towne in Persia before you go to Bizantium, for tis to Susa I must go; and therefore if you could do so, you would very much oblige me, and should assuredly receive a reward sufficent to satisfie you for the service I require of you.

That I cannot possible [possibly] do (answer’d he) but if you please Madam, assoon as I [fol. 114^v] have unladed my Ship of her fraight I will then transport you any whither you shall command me; this promise prity well satisfi’d her, hoping her voyage would not be much longer; so he retir’d, leaving her to give thankes to those Powers who had preserv’d her from so manifest a perrill, which she did with a great deall of Piety and Devotion.{262}

But no sooner was Serastes come out from Artabella, ere he was alarmed with the approach of a new danger, noe less formidable then that they lately scap’d; which was the sight of a certaine Pirat who had of a long time infested those Seas neer Delphos (which they were not many Leagues distant from) finding many rich prizes among those that daily came to consult the Oracle in Del^ph^os; for seldome any came upon that account, but they brought with them great treasures of Gold, and Jewells to offer at Apolls Altar; which oft became a prey to those Robbers; who ceaz’d on the Goods, and made Slaves of the men they took, unless they would redeeme themselve[s] at such excessive rates as they would set upon them; which was to be paid at a certaine place appointed for that purpose, ere they would set them at Liberty. This sight fill’d the minds of the most couragious of the Mariners with mortall apprehensions, knowing there was no way to shun those Pirats who pursu’d them both with Saile and Oare: and not being ignorant to what condition they must be reduced if they yeelded; how that of free men they must become Slaves to those cruell wretches, from whose inhumanity they could expect but litle favour, they resolv’d to fight for their Liberties, prefering death before a Slavery more insupportable. This being once resolv’d, insteed of flying, they tack’d about to meet their Pursuers, and prepar’d for the encounter.

The Pirat very much admir’d to find a resistance so litle expected; but Serastes having in it no less then his whole estate, could not be perswaded to part with it upon such easie termes as many others had done; and being of a courage not common in men of his Proffession, he made a stout resistance; and questionless had his men been but as valiant as himself their Enemies had found it no easie taske to vanquish them, though they were by much the stronger. Twice did they bord the Merchants Ship, and were repell’d; but at last Serastes fell downe wounded with litle signe of life in him; which so daunted the hearts of all the rest, as they no longer would dispute a Victory they now dispair’d of gaining; but all at once, falling on their knees, cri’d for mercy to their pitiless Conquerours, who puting them into Irons, fell to ransaking of the Ship; where they found wealth enough to have satisfi’d their covetous desires, could anything in reason have satisfi’d those base men who built their Fortunes meerly upon the ruine of others.

All this while poor Artabella was ignorant of this new misfortune; some noise she had heard indeed, but that she imagin’d [fol. 115^r] was caus’d by the Mariners repairing something that might have been broaken by the violence of the Waves: but too soon knew she the truth of it, when she saw severall men rudely rush into her Cabin; who without speaking, ceaz’d on her and Saparilla, and binding both their hands, haul’d them forth upon the Deck with a rudeness they had never seen practiced to the meanest Slaves; which so surpriz’d them as they were ready to Sink downe dead: but when they came out upon the Deck where they beheld the dismall Spectacles of dead, and dying men who there lay weltring in their blouds! Oh Heavens; how great was their astonishment at that{263} lamentable sight, and the more because they knew not what too impute that Slaughter too, but casting their eyes about, they espi’d the Pirats Ship, which gave them strong suspitions into what condition they were fallen; which strook such a terrour into them, as it depriv’d them both of life for a long time. After those barbarous Villains had made some essaies to bring them to life again (not with any intention to oblige them, but onely in hopes to make a gain of them) and finding their endeavours ineffectuall, their Captain commanded them to leave them where they were, and to retire to their owne Ship, saying there was litle hopes of deriving any advantage from two Woemen, who were like to bring them more trouble then proffit. This command they readily obey’d, leaving the poor Princess, and her Faithfull Saparilla in that most deplorable condition; they having gotten a treasure much greater then they look’d for, hois’d Saile, with an intention to returne home, and there to dispose of their Purchace, that they might the more freely to sea again to seeke for new Prizes.

Saparilla came to herself a good while before the Princess, and seeing her lye streach’d out by her side, she was so afflicted at that sight as she was even ready to fall again into her former Trance: but Artabellas danger made her strive as much as possible to keep up her spirits, that she might be in a capacity to assist her deare Mistress; which assoon as she was able, she did: using her uttmost endeavour to fetch life into her again; which with much adoe at last she did. But when Artabella had open’d her Eyes, she cast them with a faint, and languishing look on those sad Objects which lay before her; and then turning them on Saparilla, she said sighing, ah I see I must live to endure more miseries; and I feare those I have hitherto undergone, are but the Shadows of what I have yet to suffer. Oh how much better had it been, that those cruell Wretches had left me in the same condition these poor Men are in; and how mercifull should I have esteemed them had their cruelty extended to the taking away my life, which is now so miserable as death will be the onely happiness I can hope for, as being that alone which can put an end to all my miseries: these words she ended with a shower of Teares wherin Saparilla kept her company and strove, with the most comfortable words she could invent, to mittigate a griefe which she acknowledg’d had but too just a cause. [fol. 115^v]

But that which most diverted her from those sad thoughts for the present, was her hearing Serastes give a groan (which spake him not to be quite dead) which she no sooner heard, but puting Saparilla from her, prethee leave me (said she) and employ thy care to better purpose, by endeavouring to preserve the life of that Good Man to whom we owe our Liberties: perhaps tis for my sake that he has been plung’d into this misfortune, and that by asisting this unhappy Creature (whom the Gods have destin’d to nothing but misery) he has provok’d them to make him a pertaker of those Punishments I onely have deserv’d. Then leave nothing unattempted (Deare Saparilla) to recover him; which if thou canst, it will be not onely a charitie to him, but a comfort to our selves: but she being of a generous inclination, needed not much perswasion to incite her to so good a{264} deed. After she had lead Artabella back into her Cabin and laid her on her Bed, as she was seeking for some kind of Linen to teare wherewith she might bind up Serastes’s wounds, she chanced to espy her Ladies Cabinet, which hapning to stand in a dark corner of the Cabin had been therby (it seemes) secur’d from the sight of those who had made a prey of all things else of any value. This sight gave her some hopes since Serastes was not quite dead, that her indeavours would not be invain; for she remembred her Mistress had in it a Powder of most Soveraign effects; and bringing the Cabinet to her, see here Madam (said she) as injurious as Fortune has been to you, she has yet left you something you gave for lost.

Tis very true (reply’d Artabella) I did so; and I am more glad for that Powder that is in it, then for anything else that it containes; for all my Jewells will stand us in litle stead in this Place, where nought but Death and horrour dwells. Here take my Key (continu’d she) and take out some of the Powder, and give [it to] Serastes, I am confident it will revive him if we can but find a way to cure his wounds as well.

This Saparilla did; but having nothing but Water to mixe it with, she was fain to make use of that; and pouring it downe his Throat, it soon produced its ordinary effects; for not long after he began to come a litle to himself, though not so much as to be sensible of that charitable Office that was render’d him: but after some litle time more, he open’d his Eyes, and fixed them steadfastly on Saparilla as she was washing off the bloud that was congeal’d upon his Wounds, that she might the better see what to do to them. She thinking he might have sense enough (perhaps) to understand her, though not strength enough to speak; told him, her Lady had commanded her to use the utmost of her skill for his recovery.

Your Lady, and your self (said he forceing himself to speak) are both so obliging, and so charitable that if it were possible I would fain live (notwithstanding the reason I have to desire death) that I might find some way to testifie my thankfullness for the care she is pleas’d [fol. 116^r] to take for the preservation of one who has but litle oblig’d her, since instead of freeing her from misery I have envolv’d her deeper in it: but if the Gods spare my life I hope to let her see by that faithfull service I will do her, that it was Fortunes fault not mine that she is so unhappie. But (pursu’d he) since you are so kind as to become my Chyrurgion, if ^you^ please to look in my Cabin you will find there a litle Pot which perhaps may be there still, if it be, you may find something in that to dress my wounds with; this she having search’d for, quickly found in the Place where he had told her t’was; and applying it according as he directed, she bound up his wounds with some of it which were none of them in any dangerous place, which made her hope he would find a speedy cure. But so exceedingly was he weakned with the loss of blood as he was not able to get into his Cabin (though Saparilla did all she could to help him) but was constrain’d to lye along upon the Deck, which she believing a very uneasie bed (especially for One in his condition) search’d all about for somewhat to lay him on; at last, after long seeking{265} she found some kind of Sedge which had been made use on by the Seamen for the puting up of their Goods; and with this stuffe she made a shift to make him up a litle Bed, and covering it over with some pieces of old Sailecloth which she likewise found; she help’d him to lye downe upon it, though it was no very easie Lodging, yet was it something better then the bare boards on which he lay before. He then giving her thankes for what she had done for him in very gratfull termes, dispos’d himself to rest, whilst she went to give Artabella an account [of]what she had done, and the ^hope she^ had of Serastes’s recovery; which gave her some litle comfort in the midst of all her feares, and troubles, but alass it quickly vanish’d by the nights approach.

You may better imagine Madam (said Celia) then I represent, those horrours that invaded the mind of this disconsolate Princess when she reflected on her condition, and consider’d how she was left amongst a great number of dead men, wherewith the ship was strew’d, without any to accompany her save Saparilla (whose Courage was less then her owne) and Serastes whose estate was not much different from that of his Companions. These thoughts, the darkness of the night rendred so terrible, that both Artabella and Saparilla were like to dye with feare of those gastly Apparitions which their timerous Fancies represented to them. Besides that, she saw herselfe abandon’d to the mercy of the Sea on which they floated, without the least hopes of succour or reliefe, not having so much as a Pilot to steere the ship. All night they neither of them clos’d their eyes, but with impatient longings wish’t for the day; which to their comfort they saw at length appear: so that when it began to be a litle light, Artabella lost part of her feares, and dispos’d [fol. 116^v] herself to try if she could get some sleep, which she found she had great need of, not having had any of a long time: Saparilla perceiving her intent, left her to her rest, and went to see how her Patient did; but finding him fast asleep, she would not disturbe him, but went in again setting down at her Ladies Feet; where she had not sate long ere she fell asleep too: and as she awak’d the Princess did so likewise, and raising up her head, Saparilla (said she) know you how Serastes does to day.

I was to enquire of him (repli’d she) but I found him in so sound a sleep as I was loath to disturb him; but I will go again, perhaps he may be awake by this. With that, as she was going to the Dore she thought she heard some persons talk, which so amazed her as she turn’d back to tell Artabella.

Tis nothing but thy feare (said she) which makes thee think so: but going to the dore again, she was so confirm’d in her beliefe, that she cry’d, Good Madam if you will not credit me, do but step hither and listne awhile: with that the Princess ris up, and went to her, and hearkning, she was soon convinced, Saparilla did more then fancy such a thing.

Tis very true (said she) I do hear more voices then one; sure some of those poor wretches that we thought dead, are reviv’d again: but to cleare our doubts, preethee go and see and bring me word; if thou fearest to go out, I will go with thee.{266}

No Madam (repli’d she) I cannot apprehend a worse misfortune then has already befallen us, and if I am in any feare tis onely for your sake.

With that, going out, she found her eares had not deluded her; for she saw two men talking to Serastes, who express’d much Joy in his Lookes at their presence. But where said one of them (in the Grecian Tongue which Saparilla very well understood, having been taught it with Artabella when she learn’d it, as she had done most Languages that were spoken) but where is that Lady to whom I am sent.

Yonder is she that belongs to her (answer’d Serastes pointing to Saparilla) she will conduct you to her Lady.

No sooner did Saparilla cast her eyes on those men but she knew one of them to be Eumetes, Brother to Serastes who had been carried away by the Pirats. At first she wondred much by what means he got thither again; but looking about, she espi’d another Ship, fastned to theirs; and now she no longer doubted, but Heaven had sent them a reliefe when they least expected it; and hoping they were neer an end of their miseries, she stay’d not to heare what the stranger had to say, but ran in even transported with Joy to the Princess with this newes, and having in a confused manner gave her an account of what she had heard and seen. Artabella hearkned to her with a Countenance wherein the sense of her misfortune [fol. 117 ^r] had imprinted so deep a sadness as was not to be bloted out with a litle vain hope, which she thought might but delude her.

But rising up, I will go see those men (said she) and satisfy myselfe further in this adventure which has brought back Eumetes; but as she was going out of the Cabin, she was prevented by his coming in, and bringing with him the other; who being told by him which was Artabella, he address’t himself to her very civilly in these termes.

I come Madam (said he) from Alcander King of Delphos (to whom I have the honour to belong) from whom I receiv’d a command to assure you, that you may expect from him all the assistance, and support your condition requires.

Certainly your King is generous beyond example (repli’d she) so freely, and unsought too, to interess himselfe in the mishaps of the most miserable Woman in the World; and one who is so absolute a stranger to him, as till this very moment never heard so much as of his name.

Tis very true Madam (said he) you are no less a stranger to our King, then he is to you; but having receiv’d an imperfect Character of you, together with an information of your distress, it was sufficent to incite him to afford you a reliefe.

But how could he possibl[y] (demanded she) have an intelligence so soon of my misfortunes.

By this man (answer’d he pointing to Eumetes) who with the rest of his Companions he has freed from that slavery to which they were destin’d by those Pirats that had taken them: but this is not the first time those Vile men have display’d their wickedness, for they have of [for] a long time infested this Sea which prov’d at last very prejudicial to our King, by the robberies they daily committed on all{267} that pass’d this way. I suppose Madam (pursu’d he) you have heard of the Oracle of Apollo in Delphos so famous for the truth of what it delivers, that it has excited many to repaire thither to learn their destinies; who are not permitted to enter the Port of Del^ph^os without paying a certaine Tribute, which is no mean addition to the Kings revenue: but these Pirats making the resort less frequent, by reason of the danger People ranne of meeting them (the King sustaining much damage thereby) resolv’d to rid his Dominions of them; and to that end prepar’d a considerable Fleet, with a part whereof he design’d to block up Seriphus, where those pernishous Birds of prey made their Nests (this Seriphus is one of the Isles of the Cyclades, so call’d because they lye in a circle round about Delphos, being in number 53, lying so neer together, that in a clear day one may see twenty of them at a time; for which cause (not without good reason) tis accounted a dangerous Place for Sailors in a storme). This Place being the habitation of the Pirats, was so strongly fortifi’d by Nature, that it needed not the help of Art to render it more strong: and therefore, it being impossible to be taken any other ways then by famine, the King determin’d to block up all the Avenues into it, that those [fol. 117^v] in it might not stire out, nor those abroad get in again: and knowing the Island of it self afforded nothing to maintaine the Inhabitants for any considerable time, he knew it could not be long ere they would be forced to yeeld or starve. The one part of his Fleet he sent thither, and with the other (which himself commands in person) he resolv’d to scoure the Sea; which Design of his has been so successfull, as I believe there are by this but few remaining of those Piratick Theeves: for yesterday he had the good Fortune to encounter the chiefest of them (being the same who not many houres before had pillag’d this Ship) who for some time made a stout resistance, being animated by their dispaire of pardon from a King whom they had mortally offended; they were quickly assisted by many other of their Fellows who came up to them assoon as they heard their Captain was engag’d, but they serv’d to no other end, but to compleat our victory: for in less then four houres space we totally defeated them, taking that Ship wherin their chiefe Commander was, and four more of their best Gallies, and sent some of ours in pursute of the rest, who fled assoon as they perceiv’d themselves worsted. They had no Prisoners aboard any of them, but onely those they had taken hence who they had already chain’d to the Oare. The King had no sooner cast his Eye on them, but he guess’d by their Looks how litle they were pleas’d with their employment; whereupon he commanded their Chains to be taken off: who no sooner were at liberty, but they threw themselves at the Kings Feet to give him thanks, vowing to serve him to the utmost minute of their lives.

But (Eumetes speaking in the name of all the rest) we are persons so inconsiderable Sir (said he addressing his speech to the King) as you can gain nothing by the favour you have done us, more then the satisfaction of having perform’d a charitable action, in freeing poor Wretches from a most miserable Slavery; but Sir, you will do not onely a charitable, but a glorious Act, if you will but extend your goodness to the reliefe of the fairest Lady in the World; who is left destitute{268} of all help or succour in that Ship from whence we were taken by those barbarous men who made a Prey of us and all our Goods; and had questionless brought her into an estate as lamentable as ours, had not she and another that waits on her fallen in a swound upon the Deck, whether they had been haul’d with a most uncivill violence: but seeing them in that condition, the chiefe Pirat (he Sir who with your owne hand you slew, pursu’d he) commanded his men to let them alone, saying they would be more troublesome, then advantagious to them; so they retir’d leaving the poor distressed Lady, and the other, amongst those breathless Carkasses, whom the Inhumanity of those pitiless men had depriv’d of life; amongst whom my Brother (who was Owner of the Ship) was one. [fol. 118^r]

It was much (said the King) if that Lady be so faire as you report her that her beauty did not incite them to make a Prey of her.

I verily believe it had (repl’d Eumetes) but that her Beauty was obscur’d from their sights by a Vaile she wore, which was fallen over her Face as it was not perfectly to be discern’d.

But yo we loose time (said the King) and that Lady (who ere she be) stands in too much need of my assistance to defer it a minute longer. Goe Ferintus (said he to me) and make all possible speed to bring her from a place so terrible, as presents her no other Objects but those of dead, and dying men: and for the greater speed, take the Pirats Gally; which with the help of the Oares will make more hast then any of our Ships. I assure myself (pursu’d he) now of these men that I have given liberty too, but will be willing to take on them their late employment for a litle while. And you (said he to Eumetes) shall go with Ferintus, that by your guidance he may the sooner find the Ship wherin the Lady is, and I my self will follow with what convenient hast I may.

Assoon as Eumetes had presented Ferintus to Artabella, he went out again to his Brother, leaving him to tell her the cause of his coming; which having done in these words I repeated (said Celia) Artabella made him this answere. That generous compassion which has mov’d your King not onely to pity, but to help me out of this misery wherinto I am fallen, is of such a nature as deserves more gratfull acknowledgments then I am able to make him, or I feare ever shall be whilst I live: therefore I will instantly go with you, to throw myself at the Feet of my Generous Deliever (for so I must always stile the King your Master) as well as to render some small part of what I owe him, as to prevent his trouble in coming to me.

With that she left her Cabin, and coming upon the Deck, her intentions were stop’d by Ferintus’s saying the King my Master is coming Madam. At his words, she looking about, saw some ships making towards them with full Saile; but when they came a little neerer she perceiv’d the formost (which was much larger then any of rest) to be richly gilt, the Sailes of Tyrian Purple, and the Tackling all of Silk, set out, and adorn’d most sumptiously with Flags, and Streamers of severall colours which made such a gallant shew, as Artabella could not but very{269} much admire it, and conclude it to be that wherin the King was; but she needed no greater confirmation of that beliefe, then the sight of a man who was standing on the Deck, whom by the respect was given him by those about him, she knew to be the King. He was apparaled onely in a slight Sea-habit; for having no more enemies to encounter, he had put off his Armes; but his Clothes detracted nothing from his brave meen [mien], nor from that Majesty that appear’d in his Face: he seemed to be about the age of two or three and twenty; and Artabella [fol. 118^v] who till now had been of an opinion that none was ever comparable to Phasellus for handsomeness and lovely Features, began to believe that this young King equall’d him, though her passion would not permit her to think he excell’d he excell’d him, as questionless a disinterested person would have done. From his Lookes she gather’d an assurance that he would performe no less then Ferintus had promis’d her on his behalf; and from that confidence she deriv’d such a satisfaction, as brought so great a Joy into her heart, as the effects of it quickly appear’d in her Eyes; restoring to them such a lively chearfullness, as added very much to her beautie.

By this time the Ships were come to theirs, and having fastned the Kings to that where in Artabella was, he instantly pass’d out of his owne into it. If Alcander had seem’d worthy of admiration in Artabella’s opinion, she appear’d in his far beyond comparisson beautifull above all that ever his eye could think most Faire; and in such a manner was he charm’d with the sight of her, as he had almost forgot for what intent he came thither: but he was put out of this surprize, by Artabella’s throwing herself at his Feet; which she did so suddenly, as he had not time to prevent her: but taking one of her faire hands (on which he imprinted a Kiss) rise Madam I beseech you (said he) and forbeare these respects to me (which can be due from you to none but the Gods) unless you desire to see me in the same posture.

Pardon me most Illustrious Prince (repli’d she) if I cannot in a more humble manner express my gratitude to my Lifes Preserver.

If I have been so fortunate to do you som litle service (answer’d he) I am thank’t sufficiently Madam by your so highly overvaluing it; and I shall no longer be concern’d for the Injuries both my selfe, and Predecessors have sustain’d by our rebellious Subjects, since I have therby been furnish’d with an occation to serve a person whom Eumetes affirm’d with so much Justice to be the Fairest in the World.

If I had no better a title to your compassions Sir (said she) by my misfortunes, then by that litle beauty which the Gods have given me, I should feare you would repent the Favour you have done me; but since nothing but your owne generous Inclinations to pity the afflicted, could excite you to commiserate me, I’ll banish from my mind all such apprehensions, and assume to my self a hope that by your Majesties assistance I may yet once again be as happie, as I have lately been the contrary.{270}

You may be certaine Madam (he repli’d) since I assure you of it upon the word of a King (who never yet contracted the guilt of a violated promise) that if my self, or Kingdome can contribute to your happiness, you may from this minute so account your selfe; but that my actions better then my words may confirme to you this truth, I must intreat you Madam to go along with me to Delphos, where you shall see no persons but such as will be dispos’d to serve you as well as I. I make you this request because I think it very requisit you take some repose [fol. 119^r] after all those troubles, and inconveniencies you have suffer’d on the Sea: but if your occations are such as press you to a present departure, I will my self waite on you, to convey you safely wherever you design to go.

This proffer of the Kings was so obliging, as she thought she could do no less then go with him to Delphos, as well to exempt him from the trouble of attending her to Persia (as she found by his manner of speaking he was resolv’d to do) as to wait an opportunity to express her thankes more fully then at present she could; and by acquainting him with her quality, let him see he had not misplac’d his Obligations on a person altogether unworthy of them. These reasons induced her to make him this Answere.

Though my occations are very importunate for my immediate departure, yet (were they far more urgent then they are) shall they not force me so farre to forget what I owe a King to whom I am indebted for my life, perhaps my Liberty, or something yet more precious; as so abruptly to leave him without some greater testimony of my sensibility of those Favour[s] I have received from his Royall Goodness. Yes Sir (continued she) I will accept of that retreat you offer me, for some few dayes, as well to seek occations to repay part of what I owe your Majesty, as to let you know the name, and condition of her on whom you have confer’d such signall obligations, as to loose the memory of them, I must loose my life.

I should be too tedious (said Celia) should I relate all that past between Alcander and Artabella, and therefore I will onely tell you Madam that her last words gave the King some suspition that she was of an extract more noble then he had before believed her; and if at first he had given her as much respect as he could have done had her true quality been known to him, it was meerly her most ravishing graces that induced him to treat her soe. He would needs have her leave that Ship (wherin she had pass’d the sadest night that ever yet she knew) and go into his, which she willingly agreed too, and was followed by Saparilla, who forgot not to carry with her Artabella’s Cabinet; which the King seeing, ask’t her how she did to secure that from the Pirats.

It was either to their negligence, or their blindness (answer’d she) that my Lady is indebted for it, and not to any favour they intended her in not making a Prize of it, as well ^as^ all things else of value.

Then Artabella shew’d Serastes to the King, telling him that wounded man was Owner of the Ship, and what a loss he had sustain’d by the Pirats; wherupon, Alcander gave order to some that were neer him to take care he might be brought{271} to Del^ph^os, and there carefully looked too till such time as he were well; and withall strictly commanded all his Goods should be restor’d to him again. but Serastes had not time to give the King thanks, being already gotten into his owne Ship; and seting saile for Delphos from whence they were not above ten Leagues, where in few houres they safely arriv’d.

The King had dispatch’d away Ferintus before, to give notice of his return; so that when they came neer the Port they saw the shore all cover’d with the Inhabitants of Delos^phos,^^[3] accompanied with the Priests of Apollo [fol. 119^v] who were come thither to meet their King, and to congratulate his Return and Victory. Being landed, he saw two Chariots which Ferintus had caus’d to be brought for him and the Princess Artabella; unto one wherof the King lead her, whilst some of the Gentlemen which belong’d to him paid the like civility to Saparilla, and when they were in their Chariot, the King got into his. When they came to the Palace, he alighted; and seeing the Princess Delizia his sister (with a Train of Ladies that were her Companions) coming to wellcome him home, he went to meet her: and after he had embraced her in a most affectionate manner, and receiv’d the expressions of her Joy to see him somuch sooner then she expected, and that he had express’d some civility to all the Ladies with her, he went back to Artabella, and helping her out of the Chariot, presented her to the Princess.

Sister (said he) I desire you would receive this Lady with no less affection than that wherewith you wellcom’d me: and though she is as yet a stranger to you, when once you know her (if your resentments [sentiments] resemble mine) you will as well as I, bless that occation which offers you the acquaintance of so admirable a person.

Whilst the King spak thus, the two Princesses look’d on each other with admiration; for Artabellas beauty produced in Delizia’s mind the same effects as it did in all those that beheld her, to wit, both Love and Wonder. Nor was Artabellas admiration less for Delizia then that she had for her; for something so infinitly sweet, and taking had she in her Face, as Artabella thought her the most lovely Creature that ever she had seen. The Princess at her Brothers request, saluted Artabella very kindly; and embracing her with more freedome then is usuall with Strangers, she let her see, she was as full of goodness, as of beauty; and that her Face was a true Index to her mind.

The King my Brothers commands Madam (said she) were altogether unnecessary to enjoyn me to give you a reception worthy of you, since you carry that in your Face which alone is able to compell all persons to honour you; and I hope before we part, to let you see the respect I have for you by something more significant then words.{272}

I shall from this moment Madam (repli’d Artabella) cease to believe my self unfortunate, and on the contrary esteeme my self most happie since Fortune has sent me such a recompence for the injuries she has done me, as the sight of soe Excellent a Princess, and so Generous a King, and affording me the opportunity both of knowing them, and making myself known unto them, which I shall no longer defer, lest ye should think the merit of your obligation lost through the inconsiderableness of the person you have oblig’d; and though I have perticuler reasons that tye me not to discover who I am; yet I know none prevalent enough to perswade me to conceal my self from a King to whom I shall ever acknowledge my self redeuable [grateful] for my life; and from whose magnanimous generosity I hope for a reestablishment of that fortune, from which I was with violence torn by the hands of unjust, and unknown enemies. But I shall onely tell you now Sir (pursu’d she to the King) omitting the [fol. 120^r] perticulers of my life to a mere fiting opportunity, that my name is Artabella, and that I am descended from the most Illustrious blood in the World: being sole Daughter to the late King of Persias Brother, and by the death of my Father (whose loss was the begining of my misfortunes) possest of that Principality which belong’d to him.

Pardon me Madam (said the King) that I have not treated you with that respect and veneration which is due to your birth.

Your usage Sir (repli’d she) has been more noble then I could have expected, had my true quality been known to you; and therefore if their needs a pardon, tis Artabella ought to aske it, for giving the Great Alcander so much trouble.

If you have given me any Madam (said he) tis in thinking the petty service I have rendered you deserves that name; no Faire Princess I should esteeme it my chiefest glory if, in serving you I should loose my life; so as I might thereby but testifie how much I honour you. The King spake this with such an ardency, as all those that were present suspected somewhat more then civility mov’d him to it, and began to thinke the beautie of Artabella had made some impression in his mind.

But not to detaine her longer there, Alcander lead her up into that Hall where you yourself Arthenia were brought before the Queen; where he together with the Princess his Sister entertain’d her with severall discourses; and the King gave Delizia the relation by what accident he had met with Artabella, which lasted till Supper was serv’d up; but the Princess thinking how necessary it was for Artabella to take some rest, so soon as they had sup’d, waited on her to a Chamber which was prepar’d for her: but ere these Princesses parted, they contracted as intire a Friendship as if their acquaintance had been of many yeares standing: for such is the charming power of Vertue that it oft times begets an esteeme in the minds of persons who ever saw each others face.

That I can witness (interrupted Arthenia) it may, since I my self know a person for whom I had a very high esteeme for his generous Vertue long before I saw him, and have some reason to believe ^he had^ no slight respect for me.{273}

You will not think it strang then (pursu’d Celia) that it should so easily unite the hearts of these two excellent Princesses, seeing there appear’d nothing in either of them but what was great and amiable. After they had past some time in a very pleasing converse, Delizia took her leave, wishing Artabella a good nights rest: she being gone, Artabella went to bed making Saparilla lye with her though there was another Lodging provided for her. The Princess having understood from Artabella in what manner she left Persia, how that she had not had time to bring anything with her more then the Clothes she had on, sent her the next morning all such things as she thought necessary for her present occation, desiring her to accept them till such time as she could better accommodate herself. Artabella having return’d her thankes to the Princess for this civility, arose soon after and drest her in those Clothes Delizia presented her with, though she thought (being so exceeding rich as they were) they were nothing agreeable to the condition of a Mourner which her owne habit spake [fol. 120^v] her to be; for since the death of Menzor she had alwayes worne black, though the Persian custome is never to mourne longer then a moneth for any Relation how high soever; but she had continu’d hers upon the account of Phasellus’s absence. But since the Princess had presented her another Dress more sutable both to her youth and beauty she resolv’d, for her sake to lay aside her sable Weedes for the time she stay’d in Delphos.

By that time she was dresst, the Princess came in, and after their first civilities were past, and that Artabella had given her thankes again for her last Favour in very obliging Language, they both of them sate downe; and after some litle silence, Delizia spake to her in these words. If you esteeme me worthy of the honour of your Friendship Madam, which is a happiness I have so litle title too, as to assure me the possession, I must beg some proof of it from your Goodness; which shall be no other then the relation of your Life and Fortunes, without the least concealment of the most triviall accident. I confess (continu’d she) I should not presume to beg so great a Favour, did not that mutuall Friendship which we have contracted give me an interest in all your concerns, which will not permit me longer to ignore them without a very great restraint upon my desires.

Should I refuse you so slight a satisfaction (repli’d Artabella) as this you require for an evidence of my Friendship, you would have reason Madam to question its reallity; and I should thereby render myself utterly unworthy of yours. But Dearest Princess I am ready to satisfy your request whenever you please; though I know I cannot myself give you a true account of my Life, without a great deall of confusion which that recitall will cause in me at the discoverie of some follies so great, as nothing but the cause which made me guilty of them can excuse: and therefore I beseech you Madam accept this relation from the mouth of Saparilla, who will perhaps give it you more faithfully then I shall be able to do, since there is not anything that Concerns me, which she is not perfectly acquainted with even to my very thoughts that are of any import; then seeing she can satisfy you in every respect as fully as my self, you will adde much{274} to the rest of your favours if you will but exempt me from that which she can as well as I performe. To this the Princess consented as well to free Artabella of a trouble, as because she fancied her modesty would have made her prove injurious to herself; so after she had told Saparilla she would ere long give her that trouble the Princess her Mistress had impos’d upon her she took her leave of Artabella for a while. But at that very instant came in Felisarda (Celias Maid) to tell her the Queen was come back in, so that thinking it her Duty to waite on her, she brake off her discourse, and beg’d Arthenia’s pardon for leaving her alone, promising to returne so soon as ever Ermillia should dispence with her: but as she was going, she met one of her Companions, of whom demanding where she might find the Queen; she told her she need [fol. 121^r] not go to her unless she would, for that she had heard the Queen charge she should not be call’d from Arthenia. Celia hearing this, went back, and acquainting Arthenia with the reason of her quick returne (which made her infinitly admire Ermillias goodness) she again reassum’d her discourse.