Printed by W.B. for Bernard Lintott
at the Middle-Temple Gate in Fleetſtreet
To perſuade the World that what is here offer’d to publick View is the genuine Work of the matchleſs Orinda, would be an unneceſſary Labour in the Publiſher, and a nauſeous Trouble to the Reader. Any one who has a Nicety of A3 Taſte, v A3v Taſte, or Judgment, may eaſily diſcern the following Papers to be the real Product of that Pen, which infinitely obliged us with ſo curious a Variety of Poems, that have procur’d themſelves an univerſal Applauſe; and that her Writings in Proſe deſerve an equal Reputation, is no vain Conjecture. Her Qualifications for writing were as taking as could be deſired, ſince ſhe had the Happineſs, in her Compoſures, to avoid the two Extremes, either of uncorrect Looſeneſs in her Stile, or ſtarch’d Affectation. To praiſe her Poems, after they have vi A4r have ſtood the Teſt of Cowley’s and Roscomon’s Examination, and been ſo deſervedly commended by thoſe accurate Judges, and have been receiv’d by all who are Friends to the Muſes, would be like the Whiſpering in a general Shout; nor need we any Recommendation of theſe Letters, ſince they are ſo able to make their own Panegyrick. They were the effect of an happy Intimacy between her ſelf and the late famous Poliarchus, and are an admirable Pattern for the pleaſing Correſpondence of a virtuous Friendſhip: They A4 will vii A4v will ſufficiently inſtruct us how an intercourſe of writing, between Perſons of different Sexes, ought to be managed, with Delight and Innocence; and teach the World, not to load ſuch a Commerce with Cenſure and Detraction, when ’tis remov’d at ſuch a diſtance from even the Appearance of Guilt. Things of this nature, coming from ſo great a Miſtreſs of Thought and Expreſſion as Orinda, and addreſs’d to ſo polite a Perſon as Poliarchus, cannot but challenge our Regard, and engage our Eſteem. ’Tis very unac- viii A5r unaccountable, when we have ſuch Examples of Excellency among our ſelves, that the French Writers, in the Epiſtolary Way, ſhould be ſo frequently tranſlated by us. Whoever reads the enſuing Sheets carefully, will find more Senſe, Energy and Life here, than in Volumes of ſome very reputed Authors of theirs; but we will not any longer offer an Injury to the Reader, by keeping him from the View of that which will ſo agreably entertain him, and which, when candidly examin’d, will make all Apologies uſeleſs.
To the Publisher of Orinda’s Letters: Upon His requeſting a commendatory Copy of Verſes. Wrote ex tempore.
Ceaſe to requeſt what will be needleſs writ,
No Man’s ſo rude to damn a Lady’s Wit:
Praiſes of courſe to the fair Sex belong,
We complement the Ladies right or wrong:
But ſhe’ll no Advocate, no Favour need,
May the ſweet Orator, her ſelf, but plead;If xi A6v
If Female Wits are from this Grievance freed,
To be condemn’d before their Works are read.
Hard Fate of Men! hence firſt the Trade began
For Poets publickly to praiſe the Man;
And by their Commendations preingage
The Readers Hearts, and quell the Critick’s Rage.
With their own native Charms are Women bright,
Nor need the Fair to ſhine with borrow’d Light.
You anſwer, Criticks ſo uncivil are,
They no Regard to Sex or Beauty bear:
All Authors muſt their envious Rage expect,
Who no Diſtinctions make, no Charms reſpect,
True; yet that ſervile Tribe who follow Fame,
And know no Reaſon why they like or blame,
Muſt ſurely rev’rence great Orinda’s Name.
When Cowley’s and Roscomon’s Judgment ſtands
Before her other Works, and Praiſe commands,
With all the num’rous Poets of that Age,
Who with united Wit for her engage,Compleat xii A7r
Compleat her Honours with their gen’ral Praiſe;
For Numbers always greateſt Glory raiſe,
As Heav’n from Sun or Moon leſs Charms can boaſt,
Than when adorn’d by all the heav’nly Hoſt.
Some may upon a diff’rent View commend,
Ambition rules while Friendſhip they pretend;
Their own, not Author’s Credit they would raiſe,
And while they ſeem to give, are ſeeking Praiſe.
My Muſe on no ſuch ſordid Motive ſings.
Sincere Reſpect has lent her Voice and Wings.
O were my Fancy equal to my Theme!
And could I praiſe as highly as eſteem,
No Perſon merits more our juſt Applauſe
Than ſhe who wrote ſo well in Friendſhip’s Cauſe;
From whoſe familiar way of writing’s ſhewn,
How ſhe her well-choſe Friend’s Affections won;
In whoſe endearing Words as well as Mind,
Judgment and Virtue with true Wit are join’d;
Both chaſte and free, facetious without Vice,
In all her Morals ſtrict, yet not preciſe.Who xiii A7v
Who cou’d ev’n Mirth and Bus’neſs reconcile,
And always wrote in a diverting Style:
From her may Ladies learn how to indite
What Letters Friends to abſent Friends ſhould write:
Sincere, obliging, full of Love and Truth,
Which ſhould not rudely ſlight nor flatt’ring ſooth:
Not ſtiff, but gay, both eaſie and gentile
(Formality is ever want of Skill:)
Nor fear to imitate whate’er ſhe wrote,
As modeſt in her Word as in her Thought;
While by this means may Abſence be endur’d,
And between diſtant Friends true Love ſecur’d.
Jeſus CollegeCoambridge, 1705-03-2020 March 1705.
Books Sold by Bernard Lintott.
Dictionary, 3 Vol. Fol. Price 4l. ’s
Memoirs of Charles the Firſt. Price ’s 16s.
Collections, 8 Vol. Gilt. Price 9l. ’s
The Year Books, in 6 Vol. 4l. 10.
Country Juſtice, 14s. ’s
Wingate’s Abridgment, 7s. 6d.
Waſhington’s Abridgment, 7s. 6d.
Eccleſiaſtical Polity, 18s. ’s
Fortification, 14s. ’s
Navigantium atque Itinerantium Bibliotheca, 2 Vol. Fol. Cuts, 3l. 10s.
4l ’s 3 Vol.
Government, 14s. of
Enquiry after Happineſs, 10s. ’s
Opticks, &c. 12s. of
Sermons, 5s. ’s
My Letters, 5s. ’s
Lives of a hundred of the greateſt Men of France, 2 Vol. 7s. ’s
A full View of Popery, 6s.
And moſt other new Books, Plays, Pamphlets, &c.
There will in a ſhort time be publiſh’d the Oxford and Cambridge Miſcellany, being a curious Collection of Poems written by the moſt celebrated Poets of the two Univerſities, none ever yet publiſh’d in any Miſcellany.
Printed for Bernard Lintott.
Letters From Orinda to Poliarchus.
Tho’ I know, moſt honour’d Poliarchus, that you delight more in conferring Favours, than in receiving Acknowledgments; and tho’ the higheſt I could make, would prove not only unſuitable to my Obligations,B tions, 002 B1v 2 tions, and the ſenſe I have of them; but ſuch as in themſelves would ſtand in need of a new Favour, I mean, your Pardon: Yet I cannot ſatisfie my ſelf with a total Silence, where I ought to ſay and do ſo much, notwithſtanding that my own Defects, and the Cruelty of Fate have allow’d me ſo ſmall a Capacity of acquitting my ſelf of either: I am not ignorant that it will ſignifie but little to tell you, that I am the Perſon in the World the moſt deeply ſenſible of your Favours; and that I wiſh with no leſs Paſſion, than (for ought I perceive) Impoſſibility, to be in ſome way able to deſerve the leaſt of them: But if you will oblige ſo like a God, you cannot be ſurpriz’d, if you find no other Requital than Thanks, and even theſe too but very imperfect: I beſeech you never- 003 B2r 3 nevertheleſs to accept mine with the utmoſt Zeal and Sincerity with which I can return them; and (what will appear a ſtrange Confidence after this ingenuous Confeſſion) to continue me that Friendſhip, which can alone reward it ſelf in the Nobleneſs of its own Intentions; and whereto I lay no other Claim than that of your Promiſe only, which I look on to be a greater Security than an Act of Parliament; as I really eſteem the Advantage I reap by it to be a nobler Gift than any that is granted us in Magna Charta. I know I run the Hazard of loſing it, by entertaining you thus long without ſending you News from the Perſon of whom you moſt deſire to hear; but had I not the vaſt Reaſon I have to write in my own behalf, yet ſo great is my Regard for Poliarchus, B2 that 004 B2v 4 rthat I am loath to ſend him any unwelcome News; and indeed ſuch is Calanthe’s Cruelty, that I have none that will be pleaſing to impart. But this is an Affair fitter to be diſcours’d of at more freedom than this diſtance will allow; and I have beſides ſome other Reaſons that make me wiſh for an Hour’s Converſation with you before I come to Town. To Morrow my Uncle Trevor promis’d to ſend Sir Evan’s Horſes to bring me to London in Lucasia’s Coach; but till my Brother Hector, who is now there, returns, I know not whether I ſhall accept of that Opportunity. However, if you can be perſuaded that it will not be inconvenient for you to take two or three Hours of freſh Air, you will either meet me on the Road, or find me here; and thus we ſhall both of us have the Satiſ- 005 B3r 5 Satisfaction Sir Roger in the Play wanted, of not grieving alone. I am ſo call’d on to conclude, that I can add no more, but that I am with as much Integrity as infinite Reaſon, &c.
Acton, 1661-12-066 Dec. 1661.
The great Diſturbance you were in when you went hence, has given me the unhappy Occaſion, and the high and juſt Concern I have for you, has made me take the Reſolution to trouble you with my moſt humble and earneſt Requeſt to reſiſt the Attempts your preſent Paſſion is like to make on your Quiet, before it grow too imperious to be check’d by the Powers either of Reaſon or Friendſhip. There is nothing more eaſie than to captivate ones ſelf to Love and Grief; and no more evident Mark of a great Soul than to avoid thoſe Bondages: I hope, therefore, you will not think it altogether unbecoming the Friendſhip you 007 B4r 7 you have given me leave to profeſs for you, to intreat you to overcome thoſe Paſſions, and not give way to Melancholy, which will unhinge your excellent Temper, and bring ſo great a Cloud on the Happineſs of your Friends, which chiefly depends on your Repoſe and Converſation. Conſider for how many important Intereſts you are reſponſible, and exert all the Powers of Reaſon with which your excellent Judgment abounds, to ſhake off your Sorrows, and live chearfully and long the Delight of all who have the Honour of your Acquaintance: Of which happy Number, tho’ I am but one of the lateſt, yet that Misfortune is in ſome meaſure abated by ſo perfect an Eſteem for you, that I cannot forbear accoſting you with an odd ſort of Compliment; and aſſure you, B4 that 008 B4v 8 that I neither do nor can honour you one jot the more on account of the many Favours I have receiv’d from you; for the ſenſe I have entertain’d of your Merit cannot be encreas’d by any Obligations you can lay upon me. I muſt indeed acknowledge them with perpetual Bluſhes, being utterly incapable of deſerving the leaſt of them; yet the Regard, Eſteem and Honour I ſhall ever have for Poliarchus, have ſomething more great and noble both for their Cauſe and Object, I mean, your excellent Conſtitution of Mind; which I have admir’d in a much greater Proportion than I am capable of comprehending it in; and this it is that has made me take the Reſolution of being while I live, &c.
1661-12-099th Decemb. 1661.
I am perſuaded that I need not deſire your Care in concealing your having ſeen any of Calanthe’s Letters to me; and add this Caution, leſt you ſhould unawares write any thing to her that might give her the leaſt Cauſe to ſuſpect you have.
What ſhall I ſay, where begin, and when make an end of Acknowledgments? None certainly that can ſay ſo little, ever ow’d ſo much; and I can ſay yet leſs, becauſe I am ſo much oblig’d; for the fulneſs of my Soul ſtops up all the Paſſages of Expreſſion, as a Phial too full hinders its own vent. Thus you are at leaſt rid of one Trouble, I mean, of reading Thanks as inſignificant as my forner Importunities have been troubleſome. However, Sir, what I cannot expreſs, I ſhall never forget; and I am now going to a Perſon, who muſt participate in the Obligation as he does in the Benefit; and who deceives me extremely, if he 011 B6r 11 he have not conceiv’d ſo becoming a ſenſe of your Favours, as ſhall diſpoſe him to hazard the loſs of all that by your means has been preſerv’d to him (and that is all that can be dear to a Gentleman) rather than let ſlip the leaſt Opportunity of expreſſing his Gratitude, whenever his good Fortune ſhall throw it in his way. But I know you delight more in obliging, than in being told of it; and therefore I ſhall rather ſuppreſs my own Inclination, than do any thing that might claſh with yours: Permit me only to tell you that we are come ſafe to Gloucester, where my Uncle gave me hopes that I ſhould have heard from you; but you are in the right to take breath a while from the very remembrance of a Perſon, who has been ſo extremely troubleſome to you: However, you will not be able 012 B6v 12 able to enjoy that Repoſe long; for your own generous Promiſe, and my importunate claiming it, will force you to afford ſome of thoſe Minutes, which are ſo dear to your ſelf, and uſeful to the World, to oblige me in my Hermitage with the aſſurance that I am, in ſpight of all your Reaſons to the contrary, continu’d in your Friendſhip. I know that to be a bold Expreſſion, but as nothing leſs could have produc’d ſuch Teſtimony of your Concern for me as I have already receiv’d, ſo too nothing leſs ſhall ſatisfie me for the future. I hope my Brother Philips has waited on you before now, with an account of the Affair we were diſcourſing of concerning Wiston; wherein I heartily wiſh you as much Succeſs, as I had in mine that was more doubtful, and that it were in my Power to contributebute 013 B7r 13 bute to this as much as you did to that. I confeſs there is more of Selfiſhneſs in this Deſire than becomes your Friend, ſince I own my ſelf inclin’d to wiſh it the more eagerly, becauſe it flatters me with a poſſibility of ſeeing you in a place, where I may, in a more becoming manner than hitherto I have been able, tho’ after all very unſuitably to your Merit and my Obligements, expreſs the great Satisfaction I take in the Enjoyment of your Converſation. Be pleas’d to keep me alive in the Memory of all our Friends, but chiefly in your own, which is an Eſtate that ſhall ever be moſt highly priz’d by
Glouceſter, 1662-03-066 Mar. 16612
Your, &c. Orinda.
Ihad the Honour of receiving your Letter as ſoon as I came to my own Houſe; and, after all the Preparation you were pleas’d to give me, I had the Patience to read the Engliſh, and the Pleaſure to read the French Preſent you ſent me; and, to obſerve your Method, will treat of the firſt firſt; and tell you, that I am extremely pleas’d with your ingenious Contrivance in making a Perſon, who ſtands in ſo much need of your Pardon, be once in a Capacity of forgiving you; and by thus abuſing me, putting it to the Trial, whether I have profited by the Example of your Generoſity: Yes Sir, I have, and much more freely forgive your ſendingding 015 B8r 15 ding me the Engliſh, than your interlining the French Paper, which I take as the far greater Affront. But the Diſappointment of the Expectation you firſt rais’d, and the being put out of Countenance afterwards, are not difficult to be ſupported from you, who have heap’d ſo many Favours on me, that your very Injuries are obliging. But you will expect I ſhould give you my Thoughts of your Preſent. I had not read the Engliſh half through, but I was ready to ſay of it as Lucasia did t’other day of a Harper, who play’d horridly out of Tune, Will not this honeſt Man go to Dinner? Which all the Company agreed to be the moſt civil way of turning him out of the Room that ever he had met with. I verily believe there are ſome deep Philoſophical Notions in it, and without 016 B8v 16 without doubt the Gentleman Collonel Philips told us of, who had reduc’d all Divinity to Demonſtration, and pretended to ſolve all Controverſies in a quarter of an hour, was near a-kin to this Author; but I, you know very well, have been of late ſo tormented with Diſputes on that Subject, that I fairly threw it by, to conſider the Counteſs of Suza’s Elegy, which is indeed one of the fineſt Poems of that nature I ever read; the Thoughts are great and noble, and repreſent to the Life the vaſtneſs of her excellent Soul; the Language is pure, and hardly to be parallell’d. I return you many Thanks for it, and aſſure you I will always keep it with a Value worthy of the Author, who muſt needs be an extraordinary Woman, and of the Sender, who is to me above all the 017 C1r 17 the Flights of Panegyrick. I found my Antenor ſo full of the ſenſe of your Goodneſs towards him, that in the midſt of his Satisfactions it gave him no ſmall diſquiet to conſider, that he ſhould never be able by any Action of his Life to expreſs his infinite Gratitude for the Care you were pleas’d to take of his Concerns; and indeed I my ſelf am bluſhing to give you theſe empty Returns for ſo many ſubſtantial Kindneſſes. I would avoid them had I any other way to gain your belief, how much he and I would do and ſuffer to convince you of the thouſandth part of the immenſe Eſteem and Honour we have for you. But how, Poliarchus, can you be ſo infinitely good, as to tell me you miſs my Company? Are you in need of the Mortifications you receiv’d by it? They C may 018 C1v 18 indeed be proper for this holy time of Lent;otherwiſe the not being oblig’d to go every day to the Lobby before ſeven in the Morning, the Enjoyment of your more deſerving Friends at Evenings, and converſing with your Books; the not being almoſt under a neceſſity of going Abroad in all Weathers to a Dog-hole, to find one who gave you nothing but Importunity and Diſturbance, and robb’d you of your Quiet, muſt needs have afforded you more real Satisfactions. But indeed, Sir, no ordinary Reaſons could have prevail’d with me to permit your undergoing ſo many Hardſhips on my account; and but that the neglect of my Duty to Antenor would have render’d me more unworthy of your Eſteem, I could never have prevail’d with my ſelf to have given you 019 C2r 19 you ſo great and ſo frequent Troubles in his behalf. I find Lucasia here, notwithſtanding all her Threatnings to be gone; but ſhe has ſtay’d for me ſo long, that ſhe has but very little time left to ſtay with me. I deliver’d her your Letter and Preſent, which ſhe was much out of countenance to receive; having, as ſhe ſays her ſelf, been already ſo often and ſo much oblig’d both on her own account and mine. I aſſur’d her likewiſe of what you commanded me, and believe ſhe will give you an Anſwer of it her ſelf. This was our Poſtday from London, and I have Letters from ſeveral Hands, but none from you, which troubles me on a double account; firſt, for want of the Satisfaction it would have been to hear from you; and then for fear your Silence was occaſion’d by the C2 Diſtur- 020 C2v 20 Diſturbance you are in for the Loſs of my Lady Cornbury, whoſe Death is here much lamented. But I will ſay no more at preſent, leſt my Letters ſhould be as troubleſome to you as my perſonal Converſation, and diſcourage you from allowing me the Honour of your Correſpondence, which I beg of you to believe ſhall ever be valu’d above all Expreſſion by, &c;
Cardigan Priory, 1662-03-18Mar. 18. 166I2.
’Tis now 1662-03-28Good-Friday, and a Scruple of Conſcience has ſeiz’d me, whether in a time of ſo enjoin’d a Penance, I ought to give my ſelf ſo much Satisfaction as to write to you; but ſince I had the Honour of receiving a Letter from you laſt Poſt, I muſt have the Juſtice to acknowledge it this; and beſides, to confeſs the Truth, there is ſo much got by your Correſpondence, and mine is ſo troubleſome to every one, that I dare not omit a Poſt, leſt I ſhould give you that juſt Occaſion of avoiding to oblige me the next. You ſee Intereſt governs me as well as all the World; and if it did not, I perceive ſo much of it in the carrying on of an Affair, C3 wherein 022 C3v 22 wherein a Friend of ours is nearly concern’d, that it cannot be expected I ſhould ſcape the Infection. A Relation of mine, who had travell’d in foreign Countries, was often wont to ſay, Intereſſe é tutto il Mondo, e coſi ſon io, All the World is made up of Intereſt, and ſo am I. But I own I cannot find in my Heart to repent of mine, while it has in view ſo great an Advantage as your Converſation, which deſerves to be coveted upon the moſt rigid Terms that can be propos’d; how much more then upon thoſe you are pleas’d to offer, of declining Compliments, which as I am very unable to make, ſo the beſt of them would fall very ſhort of the Obligation you have laid upon me, and of the Eſteem I ſhall ever have for you. And to give you a convincing Proof that I intend to baniſh all Ceremony, 023 C4r 23 Ceremony, I will frankly tell you, that you ſhould not get rid of me at this time upon ſo eaſie Terms as you do; but that the Intentions I have for next Sunday take me off from enlarging now. This, I know, will procure Pardon at your Hands for my breach of Promiſe (or Threatning ſhall I call it?) in my laſt, that you ſhould have a Relation at large of the Affair you know of, from, &c.
1662-03-2828 March 1662.
Yours, moſt generous Poliarchus, I receiv’d with a Joy that ſuch a Happineſs claims from every body; and ſo much the more from me than from the reſt of the World, by how much I deſerve it leſs. But ’tis in ſome meaſure a Juſtice in you to afford me your Correſpondence, ſince without it the great Advantages I reap’d in converſing with you would have been injurious to me, in rendring me diſſatisfy’d with my preſent condition; and I could never, without the Relief your Letters bring me, have been able to reconcile my ſelf to a place which deprives me of ſo deſirable a Converſation as yours: Nor could my beloved Rocks and Rivers, which 025 C5r 25 which were formerly my beſt Entertainments, have given me any Satisfaction without hearing from you. But now I can much better content my ſelf in that Solitude, which you are ſo generouſly pleas’d to ſweeten, by aſſuring me that I have ſtill ſo conſiderable a Share in your Friendſhip, in ſpight of all my Occaſions of tiring it, and all my Incapacities of deſerving it. I moſt humbly thank you for all your News, and for your Italian Poſtſcript, which I perfectly underſtand, but am not yet able to anſwer you in that Tongue; in time I may, and till then be plea’d to make uſe of it in whatever you intend ſhould be private; for if I ſhould be importun’d by Calanthe or the Uncle, to ſhew your Letters, I might then explain them as I thought fit. I writ ſomething to you 026 C5v 26 you in French concerning her, and if I could tell you all that paſs’d between her and me, I ſhould make you at once ſmile, frown and wonder. For would it not indeed produce all thoſe different Effects to ſee a Perſon of Diſcretion induſtriouſly put on needleſs Fetters to a Relation, and then play with them as Ornaments; nay, take it heinouſly, if every one does not wink at it? To convince you that Calanthe did almoſt downright beg me to countenance what ſhe intended, I muſt tell you, that tho’ I had always ſpoken as reſpectfully as I could of the Person of Memnon, yet when I told her the Story of the Counteſs, that pretended I was to have a thouſand Pounds for ſpeaking in his behalf, ſhe with a ſcornful Smile reply’d, And you deſerve it largely, for you ſpeak extremely for him. Imagine, 027 C6r 27 Imagine, Sir, how I was ſurpriz’d to hear this from her; however I told her, That a thouſand Worlds could not bribe me to ſpeak for him, if I thought it not for her good. Think you ſo, ſays ſhe: Upon which I told her, ſhe was the beſt Judge. I look on him, ſhe then reply’d, to be a very honeſt Man, and believe you to have ſuch Obligations to him, that you ought in Gratitude to do more for him than you do. I anſwer’d, That if I were ſo mercenary as to ſpeak for them that had moſt oblig’d me, there are others in whoſe behalf I ought likewiſe to imploy my Rhetorick. At this ſhe bluſh’d for Madneſs, and would not anſwer me a word, and ſo we parted, both of us vex’d and angry enough. We have ſeveral times ſince been talking of the ſame Affair, and ſhe conſtantly tells me, That ſhe has more Inclination to him than 028 C6v 28 than to all the reſt of Mankind, but that ſhe cannot perſuade her ſelf to be a Mother-in-law. And ſhe is always reproaching me with my Indifference and little Care of what becomes of her, ſince I have left off ſpeaking to her in Memnon’s behalf. I told her, I did not approve her Uncle’s perſecuting her as he did, and therefore would not be guilty of the like Importunity my ſelf. She anſwer’d, I know not whether he has perſecuted you, but I am ſure he has not done ſo to me. I reply’d, That I muſt be both blind and deaf to believe what ſhe told me. This put her again into a Paſſion; and, in ſhort, I know not how to behave my ſelf any longer towards her in that Affair, without creating Uneaſineſſes both to her and my ſelf. Next Week, if Health and Weather permit, Antenor and I ſhall go to 029 C7r 29 to Landshipping, and there I ſhall find ſome Opportunity of letting you know how Matters go on, and will continue to give you Troubles of this kind, till either your Commands to the contrary, or your Silence forbid me, which I hope neither of them ever will; tho’ it looks as if I pretended a Privilege to torment you, and were roſelv’d, that you ſhould not have ſo much as a breathing time allow’d you by, &c.
Priory of Cardigan, 1662-04-055 April 1662.
The Engliſh Copy you ſent me in Company of Madam de Suza’s Elegy is a Debt that has ever ſince been burthenſome to my Conſcience; for ’tis my Principle to pay what I can; and tho’ I owe you ſo much that Inſolvency muſt ever be my Plea, yet I am deſirous to give you ſome Proof that my Intentions are honeſt, and that I would quit Scores with you if I could. To this end I have ſearch’d my Cabinet for ſome Preſent to return you by way of Gratitude for yours; and that I might do it the more generouſly, I have found this private Hand to convey it to you; for ’tis in my Opinion unjuſt to make the Receiver pay for the Carriage of a Token. The Apology for 031 C8r 31 for Women is ſo obliging to our Sex, that I could do no leſs than ſend it to Poliarchus, who has ſo great a Value for us; and, I douubt not, will have a particular Regard for this Paper, when he knows the Author of it to be the ſame that has been pleas’d to beſtow the Favour of ſo many Corrections upon Mr. Bagshaw; and when you have perus’d it, I believe ’twill be difficult for you to determine, whether Women or Presbyterians owe Mr. L’Estrange the greater Veneration; but if you will have my Opinion in this Affair, we are more oblig’d to him than they, becauſe he beſtows more of his Wit upon us, and commends us implicitly for a Virtue, of which I am confident he never felt the Effects; for I am perſuaded no Woman was ever kind enough to him, to give him Reaſon to tax her with Inconſtancy; but if 032 C8v 32 if there have been ſuch a Phoenix, I think ſhe richly deſerves this his Acknowledgment. The other Paper, you will find, expounds it ſelf, and will very much diſappoint me if it does not make you ſmile; but when it has done that Service, pray keep it from doing the like to any body elſe; for ſuch are my Reſpects for your Neighbor my Lady Ashton, that I would not have her think that I expoſe any thing of her Brother’s, eſpecially when ’twas, as you ſee, deſign’d to expreſs ſo high an Eſteem for me. The Bearer will let me ſay no more, and between me and my two Authors, I fear I have already ſaid enough to need a greater Pardon than I will ever beg from a Perſon who allows me the Honour of ſubſcribing my ſelf, &c.
1662-04-08April 8. 1662.
Igave you ſo tedious a Trouble in my laſt, that I ought to make you ſome Amends by the Shortneſs of this; and therefore ſhall only thank you for the Care you take to improve me in the Italian, by writing to me in that Language: I underſtood all your Letter at firſt ſight; and immediately ſet my ſelf to read Gli Maſcherati, and went thro’ it likewiſe without any Heſitation; ſo that I now deſpair of no Proſe, but find I am but half-knowing in that Tongue, till I can maſter the Verſe too, and that is my preſent Study. In your next pray ſend me the two Songs you once gave me: One begins thus, E ne piu brami; the other is call’d, il D Nocchiere 034 D1v 34 Nocchiere errante: I have loſt the Book in which I had written them, and they were extremely pleaſing to me on more Scores than one. And now I am on this Subject, I muſt be ſo civil as to thank you for your Promiſe concerning Le Bureau d’Addreſſe and Les Commentaires Royaux. Believe me, I had Grace enough to bluſh when I read it, having been oblig’d in that kind to ſuch an Exceſs already, that I know not with what Face to receive, much leſs to beg any more Favours of that nature from you. I am now at Landshipping with Lucasia, who deſires you to believe ſhe is much your Servant, and thanks you for your laſt Favour, which I believe ſhe will anſwer when a piece of Needle-work, to which ſhe is now wholly devoted, will give her leave: But I ſhall be as tireſome to you 035 D2r 35 you with this Dulneſs, as ſhe is to me with that Imployment. I ſay nothing now concerning the Election, having enlarg’d ſo much on that Subject in my laſt; only this, ’twill either be determin’d in two or three days, or (which I rather wiſh) delay’d till next Seſſion; for Antenor’s Witneſſes having been ſo lately at London eight Weeks to no purpoſe, were not willing to come again till they heard there was a neceſſity for it; and my Brother Philips has writ word, that you were of Opinion their Journey might be ſpar’d: But now I hear the Adjournment is uncertain, which puts me into an Alarm concerning the Event of our Buſineſs, none of the Witneſſes on our ſide being in Town. Antenor was not ſummon’d till Thurſday noon laſt, and certainly that is ſcarce timely Notice D2 to 036 D2v 36 to ſend Witneſſes two hundred Miles by this day ſeven-night. But ſince the Cauſe is juſt, and you will eſpouſe it, the Succeſs ſhall never be deſpair’d of by, &c.
1662-04-12April 12. 1662.
You ſee, moſt generous Poliarchus, that your repeated Commands have at length compell’d a very melancholy Muſe to appear in a more chearful Dreſs than ſhe uſually wears; and tho’ you will find by the Unhappineſs of the Expreſſions in the enclos’d Copy of Verſes, that the Muſes have been as unkind to me, as the Committee of Privileges were to Antenor; yet I am reſolv’d to give you this Teſtimony, that I can deny you nothing in my Power, ſince I thus expoſe my Frailties to you. I confeſs much of the Gallantry of that Action is abated by the Knowledge I have to whom I ſend this Poem; and that you are ſo much my Friend, that it D3 ſhall 038 D3v 38 ſhall not be ſeen at Court, till you have firſt put it in a better Dreſs, which I know you will do, if it be capable of Improvement; if it be not, commit it to the Flames, with this aſſurance, That ’twas want of Power, not of Will, that prevented you from being better regal’d. If it paſſes your Judgment in any degree, let me have your Remarks upon it, and I will correct it by them, and ſend the Dutcheſs another Copy, in obedience to the Commands ſhe was pleas’d to lay upon me, that I ſhould let her ſee all my Trifles of this nature. I have been told, that when her Highneſs ſaw my Elegy on the Queen of Bohemia, ſhe graciouſly ſaid, it ſurpriz’d her. The Poſt is juſt upon going, otherwiſe this Paper ſhould be fill’d with a certain Subject that would pleaſe me if not you. I can only add, that we wanted 039 D4r 39 wanted your Preſence at our Hearing on Tueſday was ſeven-night; for had our Affair been impartially heard by the Committee, ’tis impoſſible we ſhould have been ſo ſeverely handled. I hope we ſhall find more Juſtice from the Houſe when the Report comes to be made: If your Affairs will permit you to be in Town I cannot queſtion it. The happy Lover is come hither this day. Lucasia and Antenor are your humble Servants, and ſo is likewiſe more than all the World beſides,
Landſhipping, 1662-05-03May 3. 1662.
Your faithful Valentine, Orinda.
Ihave deferr’d writing a Poſt longer than I ought, that you might firſt receive from other Hands the News this Letter brings you, that ſo it might be no News to you; for tho’ I know you have long expected, and prepar’d your ſelf for the Blow; yet I am ſo well acquainted with the Temper of your Soul, as to have cauſe to believe, that you have ſtill ſo much left in you of the Lover, or at leaſt of the Friend, that you cannot hear of Lucasia’s being marry’d without ſome Diſturbance; which will, I fear, be increas’d, when you know that her going to Ireland is ſo haſten’d, that ſhe will, I believe, be there in three Weeks. I thought to 041 D5r 41 to have given you a large Account how this Affair came to be ſpurr’d on ſo faſt, but have not time to tell you any thing now, only that the Importunity of Sir Thomas Hanmer and his Lady, join’d to the preſſing Inſtances of her other Relations here, compell’d her in a manner to a Hurry, which I dare ſay ſhe her ſelf never intended; and thus on Sunday laſt the Ceremony was perform’d to the great Satisfaction of them all: For I alone of all the Company was out of Humour; nay, I was vex’d to that degree, that I could not diſguiſe my Concern, which many of them were ſurpriz’d to ſee, and ſpoke to me of it; but my Grief was too deeply rooted to be cur’d with Words. Believe me, dear Poliarchus, I have wept ſo much, that my Eyes almoſt refuſe me this preſent Service: But I will ſay no more of it 042 D5v 42 it now. I am reſolv’d to write each Circumſtance of this Affair to our Friend Rosania, from whom you ſhall know all, and therefore pray defer your Cuſity till then. I never wiſh’d my ſelf ſo much a Philoſopher as now, that I might be in a Temper ſedate enough to ſay any thing that might in ſome meaſure alleviate your Griefs: But indeed, Poliarchus, I am ſo afflicted my ſelf, that ’twould be in vain for me to offer at the Comfort of another. As for your Share in this Loſs, I hope you prepar’d your ſelf much better to receive it, than I did to ſuffer mine: Sono ben altri infelici nell’ amore: And I know you are too wiſe to need any Conſolation from any but your ſelf, and that you had laid in a Stock of Patience before-hand. Had I done ſo too, I had ſav’d my ſelf much Diſquiet; yet when I reflectflect 043 D6r 43 flect that all our regret in this Caſe is in vain, I begin to be a little ſatisfy’d, and often repeat to my ſelf theſe words of Dr. Hammond, When will you begin to truſt God, and permit him to govern the World? You have allow’d my Loſs to be greater than your own, and therefore I will expect that Conſol[ati]on from you, that I am unable to give my ſelf, or you any other way, than by putting you in mind, that I am much more unfortunate than you. As for Lucasia, why ſhould we be more concern’d for her than ſhe is for her ſelf, or than her neareſt Relations. I am now taught by Experience, that ’tis a very thankleſs Office, to have too much Regard for the Intereſt of our Friends, when they themſelves have a mind to wave it; and we muſt ſay of this, as of other Providences, Che 044 D6v 44 Che le Coſe del Ciel ſol colui vede,Chi ſerra gli Occhi, e crede. Let us do ſo on this account, and believe that ſo ſweet a Creature cannot be injur’d by any thing that has the leaſt ſenſe of Humanity; nor ſo much Piety as hers be forſaken by Divine Providence. May ſhe ever be as happy, as I am otherwiſe, and as free from all Trouble and Grief, as ſhe ſoon will be from the ſight of mine. I can ſay no more, my time is ſo little and my Grief ſo great; but whitherſoever that tranſports me, tho’ even to my Grave, I beſeech you get the Victory over yours, and be aſſur’d that I am to my laſt Gaſp, &c.
Landſhipping, 1662-05-17May 17. 1662.
About a Fortnight ago I acquainted you that Lucasia was marry’d, and had taken a ſudden Reſolution to be going for Ireland; ſince that I have received a Letter from you dated at Portsmouth, giving me the full Relation of the Queen’s Arrival; which you have ſo wonderfully deſcrib’d in Proſe, that I doubt very much whether it can be equall’d by any of our Poets in Verſe. I thank you for it, and for the Care you take to improve me in the Italian, which I am the more aſſiduous in, becauſe you firſt incourag’d me to undertake it. But I muſt now inform you where I am, and upon what Score I am here. That I am at a Place 046 D7v 46 Place called Pigsarred the Date of my Letter informs you; and the Reaſon of my being here will be no Myſtery to you, who are no Stranger to the great Friendſhip I have for the Prienceſs Calanthe, which render’d it impoſſible for me to let her croſs the Seas into a foreign Kingdom without my Company: Even Antenor himſelf was of opinion, that in regard of the long Intimacy that had been between us, I could do no leſs than ſee her ſafe to her Huſband’s Houſe; and I my ſelf was very deſirous to ſhare with her in all the Hazards of the Voyage, and to ſee the Places and Perſons where and with whom ſhe is now to live and converſe; all which the Doctor and ſome other of Memnon’s Relations had extoll’d to the very Skies. And this I was the rather inclin’d to do, being convinc’d that it would contributebute 047 D8r 47 bute very much to my Quiet to know where and with whom ſhe was to ſpend the Remainder of her Days. The Paſſage of the Sea is not in the leaſt dreadful to my Apprehenſion, ſince it is for the Love of her that I undertake the Danger. When I have tarry’d there a while, I ſhall return home with a heavy Heart; but with the Satisfaction nevertheleſs, that I have diſcharg’d my Duty to my Friend, whoſe Loſs I ſhall eternally regret. I am continually thinking of what Brennoralt ſays in the Play, I will deſerve her tho’ I never gain her. There is a ſecret Pleaſure in doing ones Duty. I have written a long Letter of all the Particulars of this Marriage to our fair Friend Rosania, and deſir’d her to communicate it to you, ſo that of her you may be inform’d of all the Circumſtances more at large than I can now tell you. I ſee 048 D8v 48 I ſee no Alteration either in her Huſband’s Humour or Mien, but in my Opinion he behaves himſelf more deſpotically towards her than becomes him, But all this is under the Roſe, and I would have kept it to my ſelf; did I not repoſe an entire Confidence in you; for ’tis too late now for us to find Faults; the Buſineſs is over, and we muſt be ſatisfy’d, and for her ſake, who will be eternally dear to us, put the beſt Face on every thing. She pretends to be the moſt ſatisfy’d Creature in the World, and is very much concern’d when ſhe ſees me melancholy. She tells all of us ſhe is extremely happy, and that all that love her ought to take part in her Happineſs. Pray write to me by the next Poſt to Dublin where, if we have a ſafe Paſſage over Sea, we ſhall be by the beginning of next Week, for we are to ſet ſail the laſt day 049 E1r 49 day of this. If you have written any thing to me to Cardigan relating to this Affair, pray write it again to me to Dublin in Italian; for I know not when I ſhall receive the Letters that will come to Cardigan the latter end of this Week, and I am very deſirous to know your Thoughts of this Matter; that ſince I cannot bring Relief to your Sorrows, I may at leaſt ſhare them with you. But I am talking to you, as if you were a Perſon of as little Virtue and Reſolution as my ſelf. No, Poliarchus, I doubt not but you have more of the Philoſopher in you, than to ſuffer your ſelf to be twice overcome by the ſame Paſſion. Leave then the unavailing Sighs, Complaints, and Tears to me, who am of the tender Sex, and preſs’d with ſuch a load of Sorrows, that I deſpair of ever finding Relief. Were you ſtill a Lover, which you are not, I E grieve 050 E1v 50 grieve enough at this Severity of Fate, both for my ſelf and you: The chiefeſt Comfort I have left is to converſe with you. Send me word what the Town and Court ſay of this Marriage, and when I come to Dublin, I will in return write you ſomething that ſhall make you ſmile. Lucasia is ſtill very much your Servant; and I am confident you are ſo fully perſuaded of my Eſteem for you, that you will never require an Oath to prove that Article; for while I am any thing I muſt be, &c.
PigſarredLucaſia’s Houſe 1662-06-04June 4. 1662.
If your Silence this Week was intended to exempt you from the Perſecution of my Scribble, you ſee your Deſign has miſcarry’d; and you may believe, that not to let me hear from you as I expect, is a certain way to provoke me to beg of you not to diſcontinue me the Favour of your Correſpondence, of which I know my ſelf to be ſo unworthy, that every little Omiſſion on your part, alarms me with the Apprehenſion of having utterly loſt it. I am ſure you are too generous to alter your Thoughts of me, however I may have been repreſented to you, eſpecially till you have better Proofs than the bare Aſſertion of one, who could E2 know 052 E2v 52 know ſo little of that Affair; and I dare promiſe you, that even Calanthe her ſelf would acquit me of that Imputation: For ſhe hugs her ſelf ſo much in her Choice, that ſhe will not ſuffer even the Doctor to have any ſhare in the Glory of having contributed to it; much more therefore will ſhe exclude me, who am far from laying Claim to any: I am very content that it ſhould be wholly attributed to her ſelf and her Uncle, and will never rob them of the Reputation they are like to gain by it. If you are ſatisfy’d with my proceeding in that Affair, as you have aſſur’d me you are, I look on my ſelf to be happier than they. But I will tell you ſomething to make you laugh: The Doctor is not ſo fortunate in his Amours as his Friend, for his Miſtreſs has abſolutely refus’d him; and the Jeſt of it is, 053 E3r 53 is, ſhe fed him with vain Hopes till ſhe ſaw her Complaiſance was no longer needful for her Uncle’s Service, and then on a ſudden ſhe grew ſo proud and ſcornful, that he is not a little mortify’d at it. She publickly declares that he has not Eſtate enough, that he is of a Humour very diſagreable, and that ſhe can never like him: Beſides, ſhe ſays and does a thouſand diſobliging things to him, and carries her ſelf in ſo haughty a manner, that I have often wiſh’d you here, that you might at leaſt have the Pleaſure of this ſmall Revenge. In ſhort, after all the noiſe has been made about it, I take the Match to be quite broken off. And ſo much for that. I would now ſay ſomething in anſwer to your Italian, but I have neither Time nor Opportunity; for a certain Perſon is very jealous of what E3 paſſes 054 E3v 54 paſſes between us, and watches me cloſe: But in a word, I believe the Husband to be of a Humour ſtubborn and ſurly enough; yet to ſpeak ſincerely, I have not hitherto perceiv’d the Marks of any ill Nature towards her; and indeed who could be barbarous or cruel to a Perſon of ſo ſweet a Temper and ſo much Merit, and who has made a Sacrifice of her ſelf and all her Thoughts to his Will and Pleaſure? The Country hereabouts is very like Wales, I mean the moſt barren parts of it, that are hilly, and near the Sea. There is very little Wood, and the Proſpect not in the leaſt pleaſant. The Houſe is indifferent, and that’s all; for ’tis but very ordinary for a Perſon of his Quality, and ſhe deſerves a better. There is but little Converſation, and that too none of the beſt: But 055 E4r 55 But in the Town the Buildings and Company are ſomething better. Pray let me know whether Rosania be living or not; for but that you and Philaster have made mention of her, I ſhould have no reaſon to think ſhe is, not having heard from her ſince I came into Ireland, which is no ſmall Affliction to me. Next Week we go to Dublin, and I ſhall ſoon after return to Wales; but before that you will receive more Troubles of this nature from, &c.
Roſtreror, 1662-07-19July 19. 1662.
Ireceived yours of 1662-07-12the twelfth after I had written my laſt, which will be with you before Sunday next; and then you will acquit me of my Promiſe to make you ſmile, for I am confident you will laugh heartily; and I give you leave to make my Brother Philips, Cimena and Rosania Sharers in your Mirth; particularly Rosania, to whom you are bound in Juſtice to give ſome part of your Diverſion; for ſhe tells me you have infected her with your Sighs, for which I could chide you with as good a Grace as the Gentleman that curs’d his Servant for ſwearing, but that I am ſo much oblig’d for the ſhare you take in my Trouble, that 057 E5r 57 that I haſten to thank you for it, and endeavour all I can to follow your Advice, and compoſe my outward Shew to much more Content and Satisfaction than I feel within: Hoping that in time either Reaſon or Reſentment will cure me of my Paſſion for the Converſation of a Perſon, who has ſo ſtudiouſly contriv’d my loſing it. I now ſee by Experience that one may love too much, and offend more by a too fond Sincerity, than by a careleſs Indifferency, provided it be but handſomly varniſh’d over with civil Reſpect. I find too there are few Friendſhips in the World Marriageproof; eſpecially when the Perſon our Friend marries has not a Soul particularly capable of the Tenderneſs of that Endearment, and ſolicitous of advancing the noble Inſtances of it, as a Pleaſure of their own, 058 E5v 58 own, in others as well as themſelves: And ſuch a Temper is ſo rarely found, that we may generally conclude the Marriage of a Friend to be the Funeral of a Friendſhip; for then all former Endearments run naturally into the Gulf of that new and ſtrict Relation, and there, like Rivers in the Sea, they loſe themſelves for ever. This is indeed a lamentable Truth, and I have often ſtudy’d to find a Reaſon for it. Sometimes I think it is becauſe we are in truth more illnatur’d than we really take our ſelves to be; and more forgetful of the paſt Offices of Friendſhip, when they are ſuperſeded by others of a freſher Date, which carrying with them the Plauſibility of more Duty and Religion in the Knot that ties them, we perſuade our ſelves will excuſe us if the Heat and 059 E6r 59 and Zeal of our former Friendſhips decline and wear off into Lukewarmneſs and Indifferency: whereas there is indeed a certain ſecret Meanneſs in our Souls, which mercenarily inclines our Affections to thoſe with whom we muſt neceſſarily be oblig’d for the moſt part to converſe, and from whom we expect the chiefeſt outward Conveniencies. And thus we are apt to flatter our ſelves that we are conſtant and unchang’d in our Friendſhip, tho’ we inſenſibly fall into Coldneſs and Eſtrangement; but will not believe it, becauſe we know ’tis ungenerous and baſe. And thus it is that the thing call’d Friendſhip, without which the whole Earth would be but a Deſart, and Man ſtill alone, tho’ in Company, grows ſick and languiſhes, and Love once ſick, how quickly 060 E6v 60 quickly will it die? But enough of theſe Speculations. I find there is nothing impoſſible in this World but for me to grow wiſe: Yet after all, I had rather loſe Calanthe, as I loſe her, than gain her as Mr. Doctor has gain’d her Company. I have a hundred things to ſay, would this ſtollen Minute permit: But I ſhall ſoon be in a place where I ſhall have ſad Reaſon to be free from the Fear I am now in, leſt ſhe ſhould ſurprize me, and find what would not pleaſe her, tho’ I take Heaven to witneſs, I would neither do, nor ſay, nor think any thing in her Diſparagement, much leſs that would injure her for the Empire of the whole World. Philaster is with us, and aſſures you that his ſenſe of your Favours and Reſpects for you, can neither be drown’d in an Iriſh Miſt, nor loſt in 061 E7r 61 in a Bog. He is no better pleas’d with Calanthe’s Change of Condition than my ſelf. Cimena hears from him, and by that means you may have a better account of the Husband’s Behaviour to his Wife, of his Humours and way of Life than I can now ſend you. I believe indeed that he loves her very well, but he carries himſelf to her with ſuch an Air of Sovereignty, and in my Opinion ſo ſilly and clowinſh withal, that I am much ſurpriz’d that ſhe, who is ſo well-bred, and her Converſation every way ſo agreeable, can be ſo happy with him as ſhe ſeems to be: for indeed ſhe is nothing but Joy, and never ſo well pleas’d as in his Company; which makes me conclude, that ſhe is either extremely chang’d, or has more of the diſſembling Cunning of our Sex than I thought she had. I have juſt now receiv’d 062 E7v 62 receiv’d the Letter you directed to me at Cardigan, wherein you give me an account of their Majesty’s great Goodneſs to me, for which I return you many Thanks, and particularly for the Alterations you made in the Poem, which I look on as a greater Proof of your Friendſhip, than all the undue Praiſes you give me. But by this time I have certainly tir’d you, unleſs you are reſolv’d that nothing ſhall do ſo from, &c.
Dublin, 1662-07-30July 30. 1662.
You ſay true, Poliarchus, I cannot be in a fit Humour to write any thing in Verſe at a time when I expect each hour to be ſeparated from my ever dear Lucasia. A Blow for which you prepare me with ſo much Kindneſs and ſo excellent a Diſcourſe, that I muſt needs bear it with greater Reſolution, or be very undeſerving of the Aſſiſtance you give me. I am indeed of your Opinion, and could never govern my Paſſions by the Leſſons of the Stoicks, who at beſt rather tell us what we ſhould be, than teach us how to be ſo; they ſhew the Journey’s end, but leave us to get thither as we can. I would be eaſie to my ſelf in all the 064 E8v 64 the Viciſſitudes of Fortune, and Seneca tells me I ought to be ſo, and that ’tis the only way to be happy; but I knew that as well as the Stoick. I would not depend on others for my Felicity; and Epictetus ſays, if I do not, nothing ſhall trouble me. I have a great Veneration for theſe Philoſophers, and allow they give us many Inſtructions that I find applicable and true; but as far as I can ſee, the Art of Contentment is as little to be learn’d, tho’ it be much boaſted of, in the Works of the Heathens, as the Doctrine of forgiving our Enemies. ’Tis the School of Chriſtianity that teaches both theſe excellent Leſſons. And as the Theory of our Religion gives us reaſon to conform and reſign our Will to that of the Eternal, who is infinitely Wiſe, and Juſt, and Great, and 065 F1r 65 and Good; ſo the Practice of our Duty, tho’ in the moſt difficult Caſes, gives us a ſecret Satisfaction, that ſurpaſſes all other earthly Pleaſures: And when we have once had the Experiment of it, we may truly ſay the Poet was in the right to exhort us to ſtudy Virtue, becauſe the more we practiſe it, ’twill prove the more pleaſant, more eaſie, and more worthy of Love. But of this in a little time more at large, when I ſhall have greater cauſe, and too much leiſure for ſuch Reflections. I will now inform you of my Adventures here. My good Fortune has favour’d me with the Acquaintance of my Lord Orrery: He is indeed a Man of great Parts, and agreeable Converſation; and has been ſo extremely civil to me, that were he not a moſt obliging Perſon, I am ſure he could not excuſe F it 066 F1v 66 it to his own Judgment. By ſome Accident or another my Scene of Pompey fell into his Hands, and he was pleas’d to like it ſo well, that he ſent me the French Original; and the next time I ſaw him, ſo earneſtly importun’d me to purſue that Tranſlation, that to avoid the Shame of ſeeing him who had ſo lately commanded a Kingdom, become a Petitioner to me for ſuch a Trifle, I obey’d him ſo far as to finiſh the Act in which that Scene is; ſo that the whole third Act is now Engliſh. This I the rather did, hoping to undeceive him in the partial Opinion he had of my Capacity for ſuch an Undertaking; and not doubting but he would have diſpens’d with my farther Trouble therein. But he no ſooner had it, than (I think to puniſh me for having done it ſo ill) he enjoin’djoin’d 067 F2r 67 join’d me to go on; and not only ſo, but brib’d me to be contented with the Pains by ſending me an excellent Copy of Verſes, which, were I not conſcious of my own Unworthineſs, would make me rather forget the Subject, than disbelieve the Complements of his Lordſhip’s Muſe. But I have undergone as great a Temptation to Vanity from your Tongue and Pen, as he can give me; and yet I hope neither of you ſhall ever make me forget my ſelf ſo much, as to take Pride in any thing, but the having Poliarchus for my Friend. I will by my next ſend you my Lord’s Verſes, on Condition that in Exchange you will let me have a Copy of your Tranſlation of Le Temple de la Mort; his Lordſhip is in Love with the Original, and you will infinitely oblige me in putting it in my F2 Power 068 F2v 68 Power to ſhew him your excellent Verſion of it. To bribe you yet farther, I will ſend you mine of Pompey as faſt as I do it; and becauſe this is no great Tempation, I will ſend you ſome Tranſlations from Virgil by Mr. Cowley. You will wonder at my Lord’s Obſtinacy in this Deſire to have me tranſlate Pompey, as well becauſe of my Incapacity to perform it, as that ſo many others have undertaken it: But all I can ſay or do is to no purpoſe, for he perſiſts in his Requeſt, and will not be refus’d. The beſt on’t is, that having ſent him one Act already, I will take day enough for the reſt. But I have weary’d you as much with this Story, as he has me with Commands which I am ſo unable to perform. He knows you, for he ſpeaks of you with a great deal of 069 F3r 69 of Honour and Eſteem, and therein, much more than by all his Compliments to me, has not only diſcover’d his Judgment, but oblig’d, &c.
Dublin, 1662-08-20Aug. 20. 1662.
Iwill always rather chuſe to think it proceeds from my own Misfortuune, than from your Forgetfulneſs of me, whenever I am diſappointed in my Expectation of receiving a Letter from you; for could I believe you deſirous to put an end to the Correſpondence, which I deſire ſo much, I ſhould in Civility forbear extorting it in this importunate manner; and ſo contribute to a Loſs, which I am moſt unwilling to undergo: When therefore you would be rid of theſe Troubles, you muſt downright tell me ſo, ſince you ſee I cannot be brought to underſtand it by all the Signs your Silence can make. ’Tis true, one Letter of yours is worth whole 071 F4r 71 whole Volumes of mine, and yet I do not write every Poſt, leſt that ſhould deter you from thoſe obliging Returns, that are my only Deſign in Writing. But if either my Thoughts or Obſervation could produce any thing worthy your Peruſal, I would write to you twice a day if I could; from whence you may be aſſur’d, I would not omit writing as often as I can, which is now twice a Week, but that I want matter fit to entertain you; and I might very juſtly plead this in Excuſe of Silence at this time, had not Philaster copy’d my Lord Orrery’s Verſes, I told you of in my laſt, and deſir’d me to ſend them you as his Preſent, which I the rather do to make you ſome Amends for the many ill ones I have troubled you with, and to let you ſee how perfect a Poet my Lord is, who writes F4 with 072 F4v 72 with ſo much Elegancy on ſo undeſerving a Subject: For Fiction, you know, is the proper Employment of the Muſes. Let me have your Opinion of them, which, if you ſend it the next Poſt after you receive this, may find me here, but much longer, I think, I ſhall not ſtay. Above all forget not my Requeſt for your Temple of Death. And now I ſpeak of that Poem, what Progreſs have you made in your Tranſlation from the Spaniſh? Which I very much deſire to ſee; but not ſo much as I do, that it may one day be my good Fortune to ſee the Tranſlator, whoſe faithful Friend and humble Servant I muſt be while I am Orinda, or any thing that Name ſignifies.
Dublin, 1662-08-30Aug. 30. 1662.
Iam very much oblig’d by the Care you take to lay hold of the Opportunity I ſeldom give you, to aſſure me that my Silence ſhould not create yours. I know I am not able to ſay any thing that can deſerve your reading, much leſs anſwering; and by conſequence am conſcious how unworthy I am of your Correſpondence, and that I can no way deſerve it but by downright Importunity. You may therefore be aſſur’d that it muſt be ſomething very extraordinary that can exempt you from the frequent Trouble of my Letters. But had I as much Senſe and good Language as I ought to have, to deſerve ſo much of yours; yet I ſhould 074 F5v 74 ſhould never be able duly to acknowledge the Kindneſs of your laſt Letter, which has oblig’d me, as my Lord of Orrery ſays the King did his People by the Act of Oblivion, both in the manner and the action too. But my beſt way to expreſs my Gratitude for all your Favours, is to confeſs them as much above it, as your Method of conferring them exceeds that of all other Men; and that all your Actions are ſo generous, and accompany’d with ſuch obliging Circumſtances, that they are no more to be requited than forgotten. Your Deſcription of the Queen’s Entrance is as lively, as that ſeems to have been glorious. In return of your Presbyterian News, I will tell you that laſt Sunday Mr. Bagshaw held a Conventicle in my Lord Anglesey’s Lodgings, where the Saints brought 075 F6r 75 brought Tickets for their Entrance as they do at the Play-houſe; but the Guards were ſent with Orders to diſperſe them, and bring the Holder forth before the Mayor, as alſo to take the Names of the Congregation; however, this hinder’d not many of them from meeting to the ſame purpoſe in the Afternoon. Some Force, they ſay, was us’d at the Stable Door, which my Lord Anglesey reſented, and deſir’d to know, if his Horſes were Non-conformiſts: How he will farther digeſt this Pill is not yet known. I am now almoſt certain that I ſhall not be ſo happy as to ſee you at London this Winter, that I ſhall ſcarce reach home before the depth of it. As ſoon as a day is fix’d for my going hence, you ſhall have notice of it. Lucasia, Philaster, and all the reſt 076 F6v 76 reſt of your Friends here are much your humble Servants, but none of them in an equal Degree to, &c.
Dublin, 1662-09-06Sept. 6. 1662.
Icould not let ſlip this Opportunity of ſaluting Poliarchus without putting him to any greater Expence to receive it, than all that in my whole Life I am ever like to pay him is worth. And I ſhould in good earneſt be much out of Countenance to give you ſo frequent Occaſions of paying for nothing, did not your Commands and Acceptance encourage and juſtifie that Preſumption. I have ever thought you excellent ſince I had any Knowledge of you, but not ſo much on account of any other of your diſtinguiſhing Qualities, as for the Nobleneſs and Generoſity of your Temper: A Virtue hard to be found, and but littletle 078 F7v 78 tle practis’d in this mercenary Age: Wit, Learning, and Parts may attend a ſneaking, nay, a diſhoneſt Heart; but Goodneſs of Nature, Candour of Mind, and Generoſity of Temper, are God-like Qualities, and claim an univerſal Veneration. Theſe are the Virtues that incline you to afford me your Correſpondence, and to take in good part ſuch wretched Scribbles as theſe. I admire Nature for nothing more than for blending together in one and the ſame Perſon, a mild, generous, and brave Temper of Soul; a Favour ſhe never yet beſtow’d on any with greater Profuſion than on your ſelf: But I muſt ſtifle and ſuppreſs my own Thoughts on this Subject, leſt I ſhould offend the Goodneſs I ſo much revere. We have a new Play-houſe here, which in my Opinion is much finer than D’Ave 079 F8r 79 D’Avenant’s; but the Scenes are not yet made. I ſaw there Yeſterday Wit without Money, which as far as I can judge was indifferently well acted. My Lord Roscomon is a very ingenious Perſon, of excellent natural Parts, and certainly the moſt hopeful young Nobleman in Ireland. He has paraphras’d a Pſalm admirably well, and the Scene of Care ſelve Beate, in Paſtor Fido very finely; in many places much better than Sir Richard fFanshaw. He begins it thus, Dear happy Groves, and you the dark RetreatOf ſilent Horrour, Reſt’s eternal Seat! &c. This laſt he undertook purely out of Complement to me, having heard me ſay, ’twas the beſt Scene in 080 F8v 80 in the Italian, and the worſt in the Engliſh: He was but two Hours about it, having certainly as eaſie and fluent a Vein as ever I obſerv’d or heard of, and which ’tis great pity he does not improve by Practice. Artaban will ſoon bring you my Tranſlation of Pompey, which I fear will not be deem’d worthy to breathe in a place where ſo many of the greateſt Wits have ſo long clubb’d for another of the ſame Play. I long to know your Opinion of it, which I am ſure you will give me with all the Freedom and Sincerity of true Friendſhip, wherein you will oblige beyond Expreſſion, &c.
Dublin, 1662-10-19Octob. 19. 1662.
By Artaban, who ſet ſail Yeſterday for England, I inform’d you what had prevented me from troubling you with my uſual Importunities for a whole fortnight together, which is a longer Vacation than I have ſuffer’d you to enjoy ſince I ſaw you, or than you are ever like to have again, if I have my Health and Wits about me; for I muſt ſurely be ſtrangely diſturb’d before I can omit a Correſpondence ſo entirely to my own Advantage. I give you Thanks for the News your laſt Letter brought me, tho’ there was more in it than I was pleas’d with knowing. But I have been ſo accuſtom’d to the Viciſſitudes of FortuneG tune 082 G1v 82 tune in a private Condition, that I cannot wonder there are Revolutions in the publick too. I hope, however, thoſe that have already happen’d will put a Period to the Turn of the Wheel, and fix it for ever, ſince what you ſeem to apprehend is far more terrible than what you relate. The News that pleas’d me was that you and my dear Rosania are well. I received a Letter from her too, wherein ſhe acknowleges the Favour you did her, and expreſſes her great Eſteem for you. You may both be aſſur’d, that you cannot ſpeak nor think of Orinda with more Juſtice, than when you conclude her to be a ſincere Friend to you both. I dare anſwer the ſame for Lucasia too, and that we cannot be oftner in your Thoughts, than you are in ours. But 083 G2r 83 But let me not forget to return you Thanks for the Temple of Death, which I read again and again with vaſt Delight, and then ſent it to my Lord Orrery, from whom I have receiv’d a thouſand Thanks for it, and indeed ’twas the only account upon which I could receive Acknowledgments from him without bluſhing. I am now buſie in putting in Antenor’s Claim, as an Adventurer in my Father’s Right here in Ireland: When this is done I ſhall haſten for Wales, whither my Inclination as well as Duty call upon me to be going. You may be ſure I ſhall be ſuffer’d to go hence in the rougheſt Seaſon; for my Company is ſo little engaging, that to ſtay in any place half ſo long as I have done here, would tire the greateſt Patience, that had G2 not 084 G2v 84 not Goodneſs enough to impute it to the Kindneſs of my Intentions. Lucasia is, I believe, in the Condition you mentioned; but I am ſo uſeleſs a Friend, and ſhe has ſo many others, who are more conſiderable, that my Abſence will be the leaſt of her Troubles. I have not yet told you that Artaban brings you all Pompey, except one Scene, which his hurry would not permit him to tarry for; but I have now ſent it to him, that he may tranſcribe it for you, the reſt of the Play being written in his Hand. I long to hear your Opinion of it, for I fear that I have murther’d him more barbarouſly here, than Achillas did in Egypt; and that my Lord Orrery’s Commands to me, have prov’d no leſs fatal to him, than the Orders that Ptolomy gave to that Aſſaſſin. 085 G3r 85 Aſſaſſin. But having already written a long Letter to you concerning that Affair, I will conclude this with asking Pardon for all the Trouble you receive from, &c.
Dublin, 1662-10-22Octob. 22. 1662.
Ihave not heard from you theſe three Weeks, but am apt to flatter my ſelf that you have written, and that your Letters are waiting for a Wind, as we believe the London Packets have done for ſome time; for we have heard nothing from England theſe ten Days and more, which is a great Affliction to me; for I am very impatient to know whether you have receiv’d what I ſent you by Artaban, with the true reaſon why it dar’d to preſent it ſelf to you in ſo ill a Dreſs: But I have had ſo many Inſtances of your unmerited Goodneſs towards me, that I deſpair not of finding it continu’d to all my Productions; for I look 087 G4r 87 look on you to be more a Friend to me, than David was to Jonathan, and am convinc’d will love my Mephibosheth, tho’ he be lame, and under a Cloud: I mean, you will pardon the moſt imperfect Labours of your Friend, and either correct or conceal their Faults. Sir Nicholas Amrourer is ſtill here; and leſt he ſhould ſtand too much on the Diſtance of a Grandfather, and be ſcrupulous to give you an account how he ſpends his time, I will do it for him, and tell you, that he paſſes it in the Day agreably enough: but becauſe a doleful Bell-man us’d to diſturb his Sleep in the Night, and throw him into ſome melancholy Contemplations of Eternity, he has thought fit to reform that Grievance, and has made a more profitable Admonition for that Night-walker to thunderG4 der 088 G4v 88 der in his Maſter’s Ears as he goes his nightly Rounds. Part of it is as follows: Learn betimes your Days to number,And ſpend not all your time at Ombre.Fly Pandars, Swearers, Traitors, Whores,Spadillio’s, Mallillio’s, Mattadores.Shun Sin in Word, and Deed, and Thought,And ev’ry Morning pay your Groat:Waſte not in vain the chryſtal Day,But gather your Roſe-buds while you may. With a great deal more of the [same] reverend Extravagancy, which he 089 G5r 89 he and the ingenious Doctor Pett have contriv’d for the ſame purpoſe. This is to convince you, that tho’ Spiders are not converſant in Ireland, the Muſes are better natur’d, and that there are Poets here beſides my Lord Orrery. I could ſend you too a jolly Ballad of my own, but I have not time now, nor indeed Cruelty enough to be eternally tormenting you; eſpecially till I have heard your Thoughts of Pompey, where I deſire you, if you think fit, to change the two laſt Lines of Photinus’s Speech in the ſecond Act for theſe, Boaſts are but Air, but he revenges beſtThat acts his braver Thoughts, and talks the leaſt. But 090 G5v 90 But this and all the reſt of it is intirely ſubmitted to your Judgment. And had you been near me, my Lord Orrery ſhould not have ſeen one Line of it, before it had paſs’d your File; for till then I can entertain none but diſtruſtful Thoughts of it. There are, tho’ much againſt my Will, more Copies of it abroad than I could have imagin’d; but the Dutcheſs of Ormond would not be refus’d one, and ſhe and Philaster have permitted ſeveral Perſons to take Copies from theirs. However, I diſclaim them all till I ſee the Corrections you have made, which I beg of you to ſend me by the firſt Opportunity, that I may, before I go hence, correct the other Copies by yours. I yet reſolve to be going before Chriſtmaſs, tho’ the Weather here be conti- 091 G6r 91 continually tempeſtuous: I have now no longer any pretence of Buſineſs to detain me, and a Storm muſt not keep me from Antenor and my Duty, leſt I raiſe a greater within. But oh! that there were no Tempeſts but thoſe of the Sea for me to ſuffer in parting with my dear Lucasia! A thouſand times a Day I call to mind this excellent Couplet, O! qu’il eſt doux d’aimer, ſi l’on aimeroit toujours;Mais helas? il n’y a point d’eternelles Amours. But I will no longer trouble you with theſe melancholy Thoughts: Be pleas’d only to believe, that wherever I am, in the midſt of all my Enjoyments, and all my Afflictions, 092 G6v 92 Afflictions, Poliarchus may be aſſur’d of having a moſt faithful, tho’ uſeleſs and undeſerving Friend of,
In yours of the 22d of laſt Month, which I receiv’d the 28th, I found ſo many things, that I muſt not call Truths, and dare not think barely Complements, that I am at a Loſs how to underſtand them aright: For tho’ none has a greater Deference for your Judgment in other things, yet when the Competition comes to be betwixt that and your Friendſhip and Kindneſs for me, you muſt give me leave to believe the firſt of them to be a little blinded by the latter; and therefore I will ſay, you read the two firſt Acts of Pompey with ſo favourable a Prepoſſeſ ſion, as would not give you leave to form a right Judgment of them. 094 G7v 94 them. But by this time you have gone through the whole Tranſlation; and if you have not diſcover’d in it too many Errors for any Correction to redreſs, you will much oblige me to conſider it with more Severity of the Critick, and let it receive the laſt finiſhing Strokes from your excellent Pen; that it may be a tollerable Offering to be laid at the Feet of that great Perſon for whom I deſign’d it: And therefore, ſince you have encourag’d me to believe that an Addreſs to her might be pardon’d, I have taken the Aſſurance to obey you in writing one of a few Lines only, not daring to rob her of her time by any length of reading. Beſides, I am ſo certain of your Good-will towards me, that I cannot doubt, but when you preſent it to her, you will ſay much more 095 G8r 95 more in my behalf than I have either Courage or Skill to ſay for my ſelf. This I deſire you to believe, that when you ſhall ſpeak of the Veneration I have for her Royal Highneſs, you can ſcarce exceed the Truth; for the Bounds of my utmoſt Ambition aſpire no higher, than to be able to give her one Moment’s Entertainment. But if this Trifle be at all preſented, the ſooner, I think, the better: For in ſpight of all I could do to prevent it, ſo many Copies are already abroad, that the particular Reſpect intended to the Dutcheſs, will be loſt by a little Delay. Beſides, the other Tranſlation, done by ſo many eminent Hands, will otherwiſe appear firſt, and throw this into everlaſting Obſcurity; unleſs it get as much the ſtart of that in Time, as it comes behind it in Merit. 096 G8v 96 Merit. But I refer it wholly to you, and will now change my Subject, and tell you, that we have Plays here in the neweſt Mode, and not ill acted; only the other Day, when Othello was play’d, the Doge of Venice and all his Senators came upon the Stage with Feathers in their Hats, which was like to have chang’d the Tragedy into a Comedy, but that the Moor and Desdemona acted their Parts well. Judge then of the Humour I was in, by what happen’d once to your ſelf, when we ſaw the Maid’s Tragedy together. I am moſt glad that you oblige Rosania with your Viſits, who, I aſſure you, is very ſenſible of that Favour, and ſets a high Value on your Friendſhip. I ſent her a Copy of Pompey, which, if ſhe receive it before you have preſented one to the 097 H1r 97 the Dutcheſs, I deſire none may ſee but her ſelf. I have other things to write, but want time at preſent to ſay more, but that I am and will be all my Life with the greateſt Sincerity, &c.
1662-12-03Decemb. 3. 1662.
Tho’ yours of the ſecond inſtant found me neither at an Ambaſſador’s Entry, nor at a Conſecration Feaſt, yet it gave me more Content than the former can take in his Character, or the latter in his Dignity. I am oblig’d to you for examining Pompey with ſo much Care, as to have found one Fault, though I believe you might ſtill find many: I had it once in my Mind to tell you, that I was loath to uſe the word Effort, but not having Language enough to find any other Rhyme without loſing all the Spirit and Force of the next Line, and knowing that it has been naturaliz’d at leaſt theſe twelve Years; beſides, that it was not 099 H2r 99 not us’d in that place in the French, I ventur’d to let it paſs: But I know you are better able to correct that Paſſage than my ſelf, and I hope you will yet do it. I am not a little troubled that Artaban has yet brought you but two Acts; for at this rate when is it likely to be preſented to the Dutcheſs? I had rather it never ſhould, than that ſhe ſhould hear it is gotten into other Hands before, which I much fear ſhe will. Had I ſuſpected that he would have been ſo ſlow a Tranſcriber, I would have ſent you an intire Copy from hence, well enough ſcribbled over for you to correct; and then you might have gotten it fairly written for her Highneſs. I have ſent to preſs him to be as expeditious as poſible, and pray do you give him no Reſt till he has perform’d his Task. My H2 Lady 100 H2v 100 Lady Roscomon returns you her Acknowledgments for the Cypher. She is indeed a Perſon of ſo great Merit, and ſo extremely kind to me, that I am ſure you will not repent of having ſo much oblig’d her. She is pleas’d to lay aſide all the diſtance betwixt us, and uſes me as a moſt particular and intimate Friend: Beſides, ſhe has ſo much good Humour join’d to her other Accompliſhments, that I ſhould be very ſtupid, did I not embrace the Happineſs of her Friendſhip with the utmoſt Satisfaction. But now I am boaſting of a Friend, I fear you will give me no cauſe to do ſo of you, if after all your Obligements you conceal your Amour from a Perſon ſo intereſted as my ſelf in all that concerns you. I can hear in ſeveral Places of a Servant to a Lady who has 3000 Pounds a Year, 101 H3r 101 Year, and I could tell you his Name too if I thought you were a Stranger to it: If ſhe be excellently good, I wiſh you had her; if not, I cannot, tho’ ſhe had three Millions. I beg of you to be free with me, and make me your Confident; perhaps my Friendſhip may ſtand you in ſome other ſtead than hitherto it has done: But were I as little able to ſerve you in this, as in any other Affair, would it be no Eaſe to you, to give a ſhare in the Knowledge of your Concerns to a Perſon, who you know will be ſo ready to ſerve you in any thing, and keep your Counſel with ſo much Faithfulneſs? Our Lover here, the Doctor, is ſtill rack’d with Delays, but flatters himſelf with Amends for all if he could prevail with the Mother to be once in a good Humour. My going hence continues uncertain,H3 certain, 102 H3v 102 certain, becauſe my Buſineſs here is ſtill ſo too. Lucasia ſalutes you with her very humble Service, and be pleas’d to accept the like from, &c.
1662-12-1111 Dec. 1662.
Believe me, Poliarchus, I writ the Letter to the Dutcheſs in Proſe, neither out of Lazineſs nor Diſreſpect, but merely becauſe I thought it would have look’d more pedantick and affected to have addreſs’d my ſelf to her in Verſe. I verily believe I could more eaſily have pleas’d my ſelf with what I ſhould have ſaid in Rhime, but I thought Proſe would favour leſs of Oſtentation: Beſides, having ſo lately written to her in Verſe on a like occaſion, I ſtrictly enjoin’d my ſelf to write in Proſe now, and that too by the Advice of all my Friends here; who, I hope, were not miſtaken in their Opinions, and that the manner of my ApplicationH4 tion 104 H4v 104 tion to her Highneſs will not be miſunderſtood, nor taken amiſs However, I have ſo great a Deference for your Judgment, that had you ſent me word you utterly diſapprov’d my accoſting her in Proſe, I would have attempted ſomething or other in Verſe to have ſent you by this Poſt; but your not having wholly condemn’d my having made my Addreſs in Proſe, has prevented me. I am overjoy’d that you aſſure me with all the Sincerity of a Friend, that you can endure the reading of my Tranſlation, and that you believe it will paſs the Teſt with others as well as your ſelf. ’Tis now about to be expos’d to all the Criticks of Algier, and what will become of it I know not, unleſs you will pleaſe to be its Champion, and perſuade her Royal Highneſs to favour it with 105 H5r 105 with her Protection; and then I need not fear the Severity of all that have had a hand in the other Tranſlation, nor of the united Forces of all their Party, or whoever elſe will ſhew their Skill in cenſuring my innocent and wellmeaning Performance. I confeſs I am ſomewhat unquiet till I hear how her Royal Highneſs receives the Boldneſs of my addreſſing it to her, and therefore deſire to know my doom in that particular by the firſt Opportunity; and at the ſame time to have a more full account of your own Concerns, wherein none, unleſs you have a Miſtreſs that underſtands her own Happineſs, and intends yours, can take more part than my ſelf. I took the Freedom in my laſt to ask you whether the Report of your Amour be groundleſs or not; in which, when you have more 106 H5v 106 more Leiſure, you will, I hope, reſolve me. I wiſh a ſhort Letter pleas’d you as little as it does me; for then I ſhould now be reveng’d on you for your laſt.
1662-12-27Decemb. 27. 1662.
Your laſt Letter, moſt generous Poliarchus, gave me ſeveral Emotions of Mind while I was reading it; for at firſt I verily believ’d you as arrant a Lover as ever you were, till you undeceiv’d me afterwards, and gave me juſt reaſon to acquit you of the Unkindneſs I laid to your Charge, in refuſing to make me your Confident. I heard from ſeveral Perſons that you were carrying on an Amour, and I could tell you the Lady’s Name too; but ſince there is nothing in it, ’twill be beſt to ſay no more of it; only that I deſire Heaven to direct you either in the Change or Continuance of your Condition, as may be moſt conducivecive 108 H6v 108 cive to your Happineſs; and requeſt you, not to refuſe me ſuch a ſhare in your Friendſhip, as may entitle me to the Knowledge of all that concerns you; and to be aſſur’d beſides, that tho’ I can never deſerve that Confidence, nor aſsiſt you in any thing, yet I can be as truly touch’d, and bear as great a part in all your good or ill Fortune, as any Perſon in the World; which you know, is not the moſt inconſiderable uſe that can be made of a Friend. And ſhould it ever miraculouſly fall in my Power to ſerve you or any of yours, I ſhould do it with greater Satiſfaction than ever I took in receiving any of your Favours, except only the Promiſe of your Friendſhip, which I prefer to the greateſt Contentments I can propoſe to my ſelf on this ſide the Grave. And now, Sir, 109 H7r 109 Sir, let me return you my Acknowledgments for all the Trouble you have given your ſelf about Pompey: The Theft you committed is ſo much forgiven by Lucasia, that ſhe thanks you for it; and ſays ſhe is as glad you met with that Copy for her Highneſs, as ſhe is vex’d that Artaban ſhould ſerve us as he did: She is certain, and ſo am I too, that Rosania will be of her Mind. I humbly thank you for preſenting it to the Dutcheſs, which you muſt needs have done in a favourable manner and lucky Minute, otherwiſe it could never have been ſo acceptable as you tell me it was. I ſhould be extremely glad to hear that ſhe continues to have the ſame Opinion of it when ſhe has read it through; for I cannot but be apprehenſive that her ſtrict Judgment will diſcover many Errors, 110 H7v 110 Errors, which your Kindneſs prevented you from obſerving. Let her Thoughts of it be never ſo ſe vere, I hope you will not diſguiſe them from me: But you have drawn upon her one Trouble more, for I was ſo puff’d up with the Honour of her Protection, that I have ventur’d to lengthen the Play by adding Songs in the Intervals of each Act, which they flatter me here are not amiſs: And indeed, if I may be allow’d to ſay any thing of my own Compoſitions, I do think them not inferior to any thing I ever writ: If you happen to like them, I am confident the Dutcheſs will do ſo too; and therefore I will ſend them you by the next Poſt (for I have not time to tranſcribe them now) that you may lay them at her Royal Highneſs’s Feet. I have, I fear, done ill to raiſe your Expectation by commen- 111 H8r 111 commending them my ſelf, but you know that all I write aims at no higher an Ambition than to receive the laſt Correction from your Hand; ſo that whatever my Thoughts of them are, I ſubmit them wholly to your better Judgment, either to correct them, if you think they deſerve it, or otherwiſe to ſuppreſs them for ever. I am promis’d to have them all ſet by the greateſt Maſters in England; but I ſhould be more proud to have one Aſſurance from Poliarchus, that he likes them, than to have them compos’d by Will. Lawes, were he ſtill alive, and ſung by Mrs. Knight. Philaster has already ſet one of them very agreably, and abundance of People are learning it: But I will give you no more trouble concerning them till next Poſt, for I muſt now thank you extremely for alteringtering 112 H8v 112 tering the Word Effort; had I thought on the Turn you have given that Expreſſion, you may be ſure I would have us’d no other: I hope you have corrected it in her Highneſs’s Copy. As for the words Heaven and Power, I am of your Opinion too, eſpecially as to the latter; for the other may, I think, be ſometimes ſo plac’d, as not to offend the Ear, when it is us’d in two Syllables. I long to hear what becomes of the other Tranſlation of Pompey, and what Opinion the Town and Court have of it; I have laid out ſeveral ways to get a Copy, but cannot yet procure one, except only of the firſt Act that was done by Mr. Waller. Sir Edward Filmore did one, Sir Charles Sedley another, and my Lord Buckhurst another; but who the fifth I cannot learn, pray inform 113 I1r 113 inform your ſelf as ſoon as you can, and let me know it. Antenor’s Affair that I mention’d to you formerly, and not the Charms of this Place, detains me here ſtill; but indeed never any body found more Civility, Kindneſs and Reſpect from all manner of Perſons, eſpecially of the higheſt Quality, than I do in this Country: I believe no Stranger was ever ſo well receiv’d among them before. I can add no more, but the neddleſs Repetition of aſſuring you that I will be, as long as I am any thing, &c.
1663-01-10Jan. 10. 16623.
Ithreaten’d you laſt Poſt, and now keep my Word, that I would ſend you the inclos’d Songs, that I made for the Intervals of the Acts of Pompey; and if all who have ſeen them here do not flatter me very much, I may ſend them you will leſs Confuſion than ever I could yet any thing of the like nature. But I have ſo conſtant a Diſtruſt of my own Performances, and ſo much Reaſon for it, that I ſhould not dare to deſire you to preſent them to the Dutcheſs, did I not know you to be ſo much my Friend as to ſuppreſs the Errors that are paſt your Correction; but what you can make pardonable in them, be pleas’d to offer to her Highneſs 115 I2r 115 Highneſs as a Production of her own Favour, and a Tribute for it. The firſt Song you will find to be brisk, and made on purpoſe for ſuch an Air, which indeed Philaster has given it to all the Advantages that Muſick, when apply’d by a skilful Hand, can give to the meaneſt Words. Almoſt all that can ſing here have learnt it already, and I am ſo ſure it will pleaſe you, that if you will, I will ſend it you in Notes: Mean while, if all your Intereſt and Eloquence can gain Acceptance, pray procure it from her Highneſs for this new Trifle I preſume to ſend her: I writ to you laſt time to know how ſhe likes Pompey after reading, and what Judgment the Town makes of the other Tranſlation, all which I would fain hear; but much rather of your Health and ContinuanceI2 nuance 116 I2v 116 nuance to own Orinda as your Friend, which I have not done above this fortnight. I wiſh the Ruſſia Ambaſſador and his Furs in the remoteſt part of his own Country, for he has hinder’d me of many a Letter from you, and ſhorten’d the few I have had; but you will, I hope, in a little time be more at leiſure to think of, &c.
1663-01-14Jan. 14. 16623.
Ihave receiv’d yours of the tenth inſtant, and thank you for the Aſſurance it brings of the Continuance of your Concern for me, who can no ways deſerve ſo great a Happineſs, but by the ineſtimable Value I ſet upon it; but is it under colour of this that you pretend to talk to me at the rate you do both of my Verſe and Proſe? Or is it your cunning to make me conceal the firſt from you, and forbear giving you the trouble of the laſt? For theſe would be the Effects of this Uſage, did not my great Eſteem for Poliarchus outweigh all my Reſentments for any Injuries he can throw upon me. The Friendſhip that you profeſs and I3 I ex- 118 I3v 118 I expect ought to engage you to lay aſide the Courtier, and tell me frankly your real Thoughts of my weak Performances. I freely forgive what is paſt, but on condition that I may prevail with you to baniſh all Flattery for the future. I ſent you the Songs I made for Pompey, and cannot indeed expect that you ſhould be as barbarouſly ſevere to thoſe unworthy Productions as an Algerine, becauſe you were the occaſion of my daring to trouble the World with any thing more on that Subject, by the Encouragement I receiv’d from you of the Dutcheſs’s Approbation, the Biſhop of Worcester’s, and Mr. Rose’s, but eſpecially of your own; for which reaſon you are bound either to ſuppreſs or ſupport and protect them, like a true Knight Errant, againſt all the Pyrates you wot 119 I4r 119 wot of. I am ſure I have cauſe to wiſh I had never made any of them; for I think they have been the chief reaſon that has made my Lord Orrery reſolve to have Pompey acted here, which notwithſtanding all my Intreaties to the contrary, he is going on with, and has advanc’d a hundred Pounds towards the Expence of buying Roman and Egyptian Habits. All the other Perſons of Quality here are alſo very earneſt to bring it upon the Stage, and ſeem reſolv’d to endure the Penance of ſeeing it play’d on Tueſday come ſevennight, which day is appointed for the firſt time of acting it. My Lord Roscomon has made a Prologue for it, and Sir Edward Dering an Epilogue: Several other Hands have likewiſe oblig’d me with both Prologues and Epilogues; but thoſe I firſt mention’dI4 tion’d 120 I4v 120 tion’d will be only repeated; for they are the beſt writ that ever I read any thing of that kind. You ſhall have them by the next Poſt. The Songs are ſet by ſeveral Hands; the firſt and fifth admirably well by Philaster, the third by Doctor Pett, one Le Grand a Frenchman, belonging to the Dutcheſs of Ormond, has, by her Order, ſet the fourth, and a Frenchman of my Lord Orrery’s the ſecond; ſo that all is ready, and poor I condemn’d to be expos’d, unleſs ſome Accident, which I heartily wiſh, but cannot foreſee, kindly intervene to my Relief. Had not the Duke himſelf, and all the conſiderable Perſons here haſten’d its being acted, I might have had Hopes of preventing it, or at leaſt have delay’d it till I was gone hence; but there was no reſiſting the Stream, and 121 I5r 121 and ſo it muſt e’en take its Fortune. But I fear I have tir’d you almoſt as much with entertaining you continually about it, as they will be with the Repreſentation of the Play: But I have ſome Deſign in being thus tedious on this Subject, and mean thereby to revenge my ſelf of you, by convincing you how much you were a Courtier in commending my Proſe; yet I profeſs to you I am not ſo in declaring my ſelf, &c.
1663-01-31Jan. 31. 16623.
Ihave not heard from you this Month, which Misfortune I impute rather to the Croſſneſs of the Winds, than the Unkindneſs of your Silence; for ’tis the Unluckineſs of this place never to have our Letters regularly from England, for three Poſts together. By my Lady Tyrrel, who took ſhipping laſt Friday for Chester, I have ſent you a Packet of printed Pompey’s to diſpoſe of as you think fit. Be pleas’d to get one bound and preſent it to the Dutcheſs; and if you think the King would allow ſuch a Trifle a Place in his Cloſet, let him have another; but before you part with any, pray mend 123 I6r 123 mend theſe two Lines, Act 5. Scene 2. If Heaven, which does perſecute me ſtill,Had made my Power equal to my Will. My Objection to them is, that the words Heaven and Power are us’d as two Syllables each; but to find fault with them is much eaſier to me, than to correct them. I would fain have made uſe of your Correction, and thrown away the word Effort, but my Lord Orrery would abſolutely have it continu’d; and ſo it is, to pleaſe his Humour, tho’ againſt my Will and Judgment too. You will find the Prologue in print much improv’d ſince ’twas ſent you in writing; and indeed I am proud that your Judgment concurr’dcurr’d 124 I6v 124 curr’d ſo much with mine in the Approbation of that and the Epilogue. I have had many Letters and Copies of Verſes ſent me, ſome from Acquaintance, and ſome from Strangers, to compliment me upon Pompey, which were I capable of Vanity, would even ſurfeit me with it; for they are ſo full of Flattery, that I have not the Confidence to ſend them to you. One of them, who pretends to be a Woman, writes very well, but I cannot imagine who the Author is, nor by any Inquiry I can make, have hitherto been able to diſcover. I intend to keep that Copy by me, to ſhew it you when next we meet, which I heartily wiſh may be ſoon, it being one of the greateſt Felicities I propoſe to my ſelf in this World, and which I will endeavour to 125 I7r 125 to compaſs once before I die with all the Contrivance and Aſſiduity I am capable of, being more than all the World beſides, &c.
1663-04-088 April 1663.
Ihope I need not tell you that I ſet ſuch a Value on every Expreſsion in your laſt Letter, that not one Syllable of it is thrown away upon me; nor that all the great Obligations you have heap’d on me are leſs binding than the Friendſhip with which they were conferr’d. I cannot therefore but thank you from the bottom of my Heart for continuing a Correſpondence, which I prize above all things, and which gives me the greateſt Satisfaction. I hope I ſhall never outlive the Loſs of that Advantage; and that your Goodneſs, which I have never merited, but will always ſtudy to deſerve, will ſtill keep me alive in your Thoughts. Accept 127 I8r 127 Accept my Thanks likewiſe for the favourable Return you have obtained for me from her Royal Highneſs. I wiſh I could have ſent you more Copies of Pompey, but there being in all but five hundred printed, I could not get as many as I had occaſion to diſpoſe of. Mr. Herringman has written to me to give him leave to reprint it at London, and I have order’d my Brother Philips to treat with him about it. But I muſt beg the Favour of you to correct it before it goes to the Preſs, particularly the two Lines I writ to you of laſt Poſt, and thoſe where the word Effort was us’d, which I deſire may be alter’d as you once advis’d. And unleſs you will take the trouble upon you of correcting the Proofs, I am ſure it will be as falſe printed as was my Copy of Verſes to the Queen. I would beg leave 128 I8v 128 leave publickly to addreſs it to the Dutcheſs, but that I muſt then put my Name to it, which I can never reſolve to do; for I ſhall ſcarce ever pardon my ſelf the Confidence of having permitted it to ſee the Light at all, tho’ it was purely in my own Defence that I did; for had I not furniſh’d a true Copy, it had been printed from one that was very falſe and imperfect. But ſhould I once own it publickly, I think I ſhould never be able to ſhew my Face again; and thus her Highneſs will be freed from the Trouble of protecting a Trifle, which indeed had never been expos’d at all, but by her Approbation, which was my ſole Encouragement to let it firſt be ſeen by thoſe, who even compell’d me to ſuffer it to be acted and then printed. I hear Mr. Tuke’s Play is in the Preſs, and 129 K1r 129 and am in great Impatience to ſee it. I humbly thank you for the Books you ſent me. Hudibras is an excellent Droll, and in my Life I never read any thing ſo naturally and ſo knowingly Burleſque. Le nuove Guare de’ Diſperati relates a very handſome Intrigue; but I am not yet perfect enough in the Italian to diſcover all the Beauties of Cotesti’s Poems, which I can ſcarcely forgive my ſelf for, having had the Advantage of ſo good a Maſter as your ſelf. Pray inſtruct me what I muſt do to underſtand perfectly the Italian Poetry, which is my earneſt Ambition, and ſhall be my obſtinate Endeavour; for what I comprehend of it is ſo pleaſant, that I cannot have any Patience when I am at a loſs for the meaning, which indeed I am very often. I have lately read a Play call’d K Filli 130 K1v 130 Filli di Sciro, which pleaſes me extremely; and I ſhould think my ſelf very happy, if I underſtood Taſſo, and the other Poets, as well as I do that Paſtoral. I brought the Corteggiano with me into Ireland, and find it the beſt Company I ever met with, but Poliarchus, who is himſelf all and more than is there deſcrib’d. I make no queſtion but Rosania and you meet often at Church, and am very happy in Friends that make only ſuch Aſſignations: Though I cannot partake of the excellent Sermons, yet by converſing with you two, I am ſure of having them repeated to me in your Lives. I hope to hear from you once more before I go hence, tho’ I am haſtening to be gone as faſt as I can. But you ſhall have an account of all my Motions, and reſolves, and know 131 K2r 131 know where you may make me happy with your Letters, which will ever be moſt welcome to, &c.
1663-04-15April 15. 1663.
Give me leave, Sir, to tell you what I know you have heard from Antenor already, that he intreats you to accept of an Election to be Burgeſs for the Town of Cardigan, which he would not mention to you till ’twas paſt, becauſe he was reſolv’d not to expoſe you to a Repulſe; nor had you ever been nam’d, but that he found himſelf able to carry it for you againſt all the World. You are choſen upon the Poll by 118 Votes, all of them allow’d by our Antagoniſts themſelves to have right to elect. If any of the other Party ſhould endeavour to inſinuate that they quietly ſubmitted to it, merely out of reſpect to you, pray let them 133 K3r 133 them know, that you are ſufficiently inform’d, they did all they could to oppoſe you, and that it was carry’d purely by Antenor’s ſingle Intereſt. I hope all thoſe who were the greateſt Sticklers againſt him will now be convinc’d, that after all their Contrivances to aſperſe his Perſon and baffle the Election, he is not yet the deſpicable thing in his own Country that they would repreſent him to be. He hopes you will not deſpiſe this little Inſtance, ſince ’tis all his Misfortunes have left him capable to give, of his Eſteem and Gratitude to you; for whom I am certain he has as profound a Reſpect and Veneration as for any Man living. I know you are not fond of being a Parliament Man; yet ſince you are elected ſo much without your ſeeking, that I am ſure it was not ſo much as K3 thought 134 K3v 134 thought of by you; and ſince it was intended as a Teſtimony of the eternal Value and Friendſhip that Antenor and Orinda muſt ever have for the noble Poliarchus, I hope he will not be angry to be ſent into the Houſe without his own Conſent, or Knowledge. The Truth is, Antenor and my ſelf always intended it, but were not willing to tell you ſo, till we ſaw what Forces our Enemies were like to muſter up againſt us; and had they been likely to have been too powerful for Antenor to cope with, your Name had never been mention’d: But when he ſaw the Affections of the Town ſo unanimous for him, he recommended you to them as a Perſon fit to be their Repreſentative in Parliament; and, as I am inform’d by ſome who heard him, made a very handſomeſome 135 K4r 135 ſome Speech in the Face of the Country, and declar’d himſelf in ſuch a manner as became a Gentleman, who neither could fear his Enemies, nor abandon his Country’s Service. Since you have this Relation to a place where our little Fortune and Intereſt lies, I hope it will be a new Tie to our Friendſhip, and that Antenor will by this means have ſometimes the Honour of hearing from you, which I know he will value as from the Man whoſe Acquaintance he moſt covets. And if any happy Providence make an Overture for our coming near you, he may then contract that Intimacy with you, which next to my own Happineſs in your Converſation, which is now become abſolutely neceſſary to the Satisfaction of my Life, is one of my moſt aſpiring Wiſhes in this World. K4 But 136 K4v 136 But now you are a Member of Parliament, woe be to you for Letters; for if poſſible, I will increaſe that Perſecution, ſince you will have but half the Inconvenience of them to excuſe, I mean, the Trouble, not the Charge: And to ſay Truth, I have mightily conſider’d thoſe two Points, have I not? Rosania was not ſo good as her word, in letting me hear from her by the Poſt you told me I ſhould, and pray tell her I am ſcarce in Charity with her, for being ſo very a Recreant, as never to be conſtant in maintaining a Correſpondence, on which ſhe knows I ſet ſo high a Value. You ſee, dear Poliarchus, that when I am writing to you, I never know when to leave off: I am ſure I have tir’d you with this Scribble, which asks your Patience only till it has told you that 137 K5r 137 that no body in all the World is more faithfully your Friend than, &c.
1663-04-18April 18. 1663.
Ishould take it unkindly of any one but Poliarchus, that could beſtow ſo many unfriendly Compliments on Antenor, for his doing him a Civility ſo far ſhort of the Obligations he owes him, that I am confident he will think himſelf very happy to be aſſur’d, that you can forgive his having ſurpriz’d you in procuring you to be elected, without your own Privity, and that you would take in good part the Intentions he had in giving you that Earneſt of his ſincere and hearty Reſpects. But I have ſaid ſo much on that Subject in my laſt, that ’twill be needleſs to repeat it in this. I am now on my Departure from hence, and haſtening to my 139 K6r 139 my Deſart; and indeed ’tis high time I were there: Nothing but my Friendſhip for Lucasia, and the ſoliciting a ſmall Affair Antenor has here, could have prevail’d with me to have been abſent ſo long. I hope now to be going in a few days, but till I have given you notice of the time, I deſire you not to alter the Addreſs of your Letters; which, wherever I am, I would not fail to receive for more than I will tell you. I grant that if my Intereſt had been as prevalent with Calanthe, as Antenor’s prov’d at Cardigan, you had poſſeſs’d, and I had ſtill enjoy’d, what Fortune now denies to both of us. I am ſure I had as good a Pretence to the former, as Antenor, with all his Zeal to ſerve that Town, had to the latter; but we are always deny’d what we earneſtlyneſtly 140 K6v 140 neſtly covet, and allow’d what we leſs value. Methinks, as we much reſemble each other in our Loſſes, ſo we differ not much in our ſupporting them. I know with how much Difficulty you have endeavour’d to ſubmit to this cruel Blow of Providence, and you are not ignorant how hard a Task it ſtill is to me to reſign my ſelf to it. But I muſt overcome this Tenderneſs of Soul that renders me ſo uneaſie, and if Reaſon will not do me that Office, Time and Neceſsity muſt. I have us’d all the Arts that Diverſion could afford me, to divide and cure a Paſſion, that has met with ſo ill a Return, and am not a little oblig’d to my Lady Cork’s Family for aſsiſting me in that Intention: But oh! I begin already to dread what will become of me, when I return home, and am reſtor’dſtor’d 141 K7r 141 ſtor’d to the ſight of thoſe Places, where I have been ſo often bleſt with the Enjoyment of a Converſation in which I took ſo much Delight, and is now for ever raviſh’d from me. The Melancholy that reſults from theſe Reflections is, I believe, next to the Happineſs of converſing with you and Rosania, the chief Reaſon that makes me wiſh that any Star would be ſo kind as to furniſh me with an occaſion of being nearer to both of you, without doing any thing to obtain that Felicity, that might render me unworthy of it, I mean, by being prejudicial to Antenor’s Affairs. My Lady Cork ſays ſhe will have me niin London, and in order to that will, when ſhe comes up, conſult with you about the Methods to bring it to paſs. You may be ſure I will contribute all that lies in my Power 142 K7v 142 Power towards the making my ſelf thus happy. But write not one word either of this, or any thing that concerns Calanthe, except in Italian. As for the reprinting of Pompey, I leave it wholly to you to do what you will in it; be pleas’d only to correct it where it moſt needs. I am told I was miſtaken in givng Achoreus the Quality of Cleopatra’s Gentleman-Uſher, he being an Egyptian Prieſt. If it be an Error, the French led me into it, by calling him Ecuyer de la Reine, and therefore I beſtow’d that Title on him in the Names of the Perſons repreſented. After the third Act I have us’d an Expreſsion which I take to be improper; Recitative Air: I deſire it may be made Recitative Muſick: And as to the reſt let all the Corrections in the Copy I ſent to your ſelf 143 K8r 143 ſelf be obſerv’d. I hope you will not make me undergo ſo great a Penance, as your ſilence another fortnight would be; for not to hear conſtantly from you is no ſmall Uneaſineſs to, &c.
1663-05-02May 2. 1663.
Iam ſorry Sir Francis Lloyd intends to conteſt your Election: Sure ’tis a Fate upon us, that whatever we deſign for your Service, ſhould turn to your Trouble and Vexation: But I dare aſsure you that Antenor has been ſo careful in his Management of that Affair, as not to give the contrary Party the leaſt Pretence of Cavil and Diſpute: For beſides that he knew they waited only for ſuch an Occaſion, he has too great a Value for Poliarchus, to expoſe him to appear in publick on an indirect Account, or in a Cauſe in which there was the leaſt Appearance he ſhould be baffled. Believe, therefore, that your Election is as free from 145 L1r 145 from all juſt Exceptions, as it was far from your Expectations; and that you are not a Perſon whom we would engage in a Conteſt, were there not all the Right in the World on your ſide to bring you off. Antenor allow’d all the Perſons to vote whom they pretended had a Right to do ſo, many of which he might juſtly have excepted againſt, only to convince them that the utmoſt of their Strength was inſufficient to cope with his Intereſt, and to prevent all After- Diſputes. But as Sir Francis has deceiv’d me in the Opinion I had, that he would not have the Confidence to conteſt the Election; ſo I doubt not but he will be diſappointed himſelf in thinking to ſet it aſide. And now to the reſt of your obliging Letter. I think that ſince you intend to preſent a L Pompey 146 L1v 146 Pompey to the King, you are in the right to deſign that Copy for him that was intended for the Dutcheſs, and to get another ready for her as ſoon as poſsible; but why need my Advice be ask’d in this matter? ſure Poliarchus is not now to be told that he may diſpoſe of any thing belongs to Orinda without theſe Formalities. I intend to ſend you by the firſt Opportunity a Miſcellaneous Collection of Poems, printed here; among which, to fill up the Number of his Sheets, and as a Foil to the others, the Printer has thought fit, tho’ without my Conſent or Privity, to publiſh two or three Poems of mine, that had been ſtollen from me; but the others are worth your reading. You ſhall likewiſe have at the ſame time all the Prologues and 147 L2r 147 and Epilogues that were ſent me for Pompey, and all the complementing Verſes I receiv’d on that Tranſlation; together with a Prologue ſpoken the other day to a Play that was acted before my Lord Lieutenant, in which the Poet has taken occaſion to flatter me on account of Pompey. I thank you for the Care you take to make me perfect in a Language that I am ſo fond of, for his ſake who firſt encourag’d me to learn it, and gave me the firſt Rudiments of it. But above all your Kindneſses, I am moſt oblig’d to you for the friendly Deſire you expreſs in every Letter of ſeeing me in London. In return be pleas’d to be aſsur’d, that the chiefeſt Motive to induce me to wiſh my ſelf there, is the Opportunity it would give L2 me 148 L2v 148 me of your Converſation: And I think you know me well enough to believe, tho’ I covet that Happineſs ever ſo much, yet I know my ſelf unworthy of ſo great a Bleſsing, or indeed unfit for any thing but to converſe with the Rocks and Mountains, where Fate has allotted me my Abode; however, I ſhall moſt gladly contribute all I can to procure my ſelf ſo unſpeakable an Advantage; if Friends ſo dear to me as my Lady Cork, Rosania and Poliarchus, are pleas’d to think it worth their while to be troubled with my dull Company. I will flatter my ſelf that when they next meet, they will eaſily contrive ſome way to bring me among them, that may not be prejudicial to Antenor’s Affairs, nor thwart my willing Compliance with his Fortunes: But 149 L3r 149 But I will ſay no more of this till my Lady Cork comes up, and then I hope you three will meet in a Committee to conſult about it, and let me know your Reſolves. Mean while, I deſire you to confer with the Trojan on this Subject, to whom I have written concerning it, and intreated him to impart to you my whole Thoughts of this matter, of which, whenever you write any thing to me, let it be in Italian. We have no News here, and if we had, how could you expect it, who never ſend me any? I have many things to ſay, which it will be more proper for me to write after I am come home. When I have wound up my little Affairs here ſo as to be able to give Antenor a good Account of my long ſtay in this Country, I will ſet ſail for Milford, L3 which, 150 L3v 150 which, I hope, will be in a ſhort time; but as ſoon as a Day is fix’d for my Departure hence, you ſhall not fail to know it: Mean while I am and ever will be, &c.
1663-05-15May 15. 1663.
Yeſterday your Letter of the ſixteenth inſtant came to my Hands, and gave me (what any of yours very ſeldom do) ſome trouble, to hear that you were a little diſcourag’d about the Election; and becauſe there was ſome Appearance that it might be queſtion’d, you were unwilling to aſsert your Right. I beg of you not to be diſhearten’d, but believe that Antenor would have quietly yielded up the Election to Sir Francis Lloyd, and have given him to boot all he has in the World, rather than have expos’d you to a Diſappointment: And had he not been before-hand morally aſsur’d of his Intereſt, he would never have propos’d you for a Candidate.L4 date. 152 L4v 152 date. I hope, therefore, that ſince you are fairly choſen by a great Majority of ſuch as have an undoubted Right to elect, you will not quietly give up the Cudgels, eſpecially knowing your ſelf to have ſo great an Intereſt in the Houſe, as gives you not the leaſt room to ſuſpect that you can have any foul Play offer’d you there. I thank you for preſenting Pompey to his Majesty, and for the favourable Account you give me of his Royal Goodneſs for that Trifle. I conſent to whatever you think fit to do about printing it, but conjure you by all our mutual Friendſhip, not to put my Name to it, nay, not ſo much as the leaſt mark or hint whereby the Publick may gueſs from whence it came; for could I have prevail’d with my ſelf ſo far as to have made my Name publick in 153 L5r 153 in print, I would have beg’d the Dutcheſs’s Leave to have laid it at her Feet in a Dedication: But ſince that is not to be done without a Name ſubſcrib’d, I have taken the Reſolution rather to ſeem rude in her Opinion, than ſo confident both in hers and the World’s, as to imagine that any thing I could produce were worthy her Acceptance and Protection, or the Notice or Regard of the Publick. But I remember to have ſeen ſome French Books, without any formal Dedication, where there was in the Title Page, Dedié à Madame la Princeſse, &c. or the like, why may not we do ſo too, and ſay for Example, in the Title Page of Pompey, Humbly dedicated to her Royal Highneſs the Dutcheſs of York, and no more. If you think this be proper, let it be ſo; for I am in a great 154 L5v 154 great ſtreight between the Deſire I have to appear intirely devoted to the Dutcheſs, and not to appear at all in my true Colours to the World. I leave it intirely to you, and if you reſolve on this, you need not preſent her that Copy which Mrs Blackwell brings, but one from the Preſs at London. I think it needleſs to print the Preface that was printed here, but inſtead of it let the Bookſeller ſay ſomething in relation to his reprinting it. I ſhall be going for Wales as ſoon as a Tryal I have in the Court of Claims here is over: ’Tis ſet down for the tenth of next Month, and then nothing but a contrary Wind ſhall detain me a Moment. Mean while I ſhall continue to give you notice of all my Motions, there being no Man in the World with whom I would more 155 L6r 155 more willingly hold a Correſpondence with all the Freedom of Friendſhip than with the moſt generous Poliarchus, whoſe Eſteem and Good-will ſhall ever be cheriſh’d in the higheſt degree by, &c.
Iam glad to be aſsur’d by yours of the twentieth of May, which I receiv’d by the laſt Poſt, that you have ſo juſt an Opinion of Antenor’s and Orinda’s Reſpects for you, as to believe it impoſsible for them to expoſe you to a diſputable Election. I cannot yet think that Sir Francis Lloyd will venture to conteſt it with you before a Committee, where you are ſo well known, that he cannot expect that his Intereſt ſhould prevail over the Juſtice of your Cauſe, and where his Craft and Confidence will not in the leaſt avail him. I am indeed accuſtom’d to ſtrange and unexpected Revolutions, and begin to think nothing wonderful, but ſhould 157 L7r 157 ſhould not be able to reſtrain my Amazement, if ſo much Falſhood ſhould get the better of the Truth. I lay this Affair of yours ſo deeply to Heart, that I know not any thing that depends on my future Fortune, for the event whereof I am ſo much concern’d, as for your getting the Victory over your Antagoniſt; and this you will allow to be no ſmall Mark of my Eſteem for you, ſince on Tueſday ſevennight I am to have two Trials for all Antenor’s Concerns in Ireland. I am glad you are ſo will pleas’d with the Songs; the fifth of them, which is one of thoſe that Philaster compos’d, he recommends to you as his particular Favourite: The Compoſition is between Recitative and Air, and humours the variety of it ſo well, that all here are extremely taken with it; particularly my Lady Cork, who ſings 158 L7v 158 ſings very well, and is as good a Judge of vocal Muſick as the beſt of them. The Adventures of five hours was ſnatch’d from me for Mr. Ogilby, to have it acted here, almoſt before I had read it over. If the ſecond Part of Hudibras be equal to the firſt, nothing can be equal to it, but I fear no Pegasus is able to hold out ſo long in ſuch a ſtrain. I am vex’d you meet with ſo much Trouble about the printing of Pompey, certainly it was conceiv’d in an angry Hour; the Players fell out about it here, and ſo, it ſeems, the Printers do at London: If Crook will reprint it he ought to give me ſome Copies; if he will not, why ſhould he quarrel with one that will? The beſt on’t is, between ’em both it may perhaps be never made more publick than it is: I am ſure it had been 159 L8r 159 been more to my Advantage had it never been printed, than the ſelling it will be to either of them: But if it be condemn’d to undergo the Preſs once more, pray take into conſideration what I writ to you lately concerning the manner of a Dedication. Sir Edward Dering has deſir’d me to ask your Opinion concerning theſe two Lines in the laſt Scene of the Play: I know I gain another Diadem,For which none can be blam’d but Heav’n and him. His Objection is, that him is ſcarce Grammar; he ſays it ſhould be he: I am not Critick enough to reſolve this Doubt, and therefore leave it wholly to your Determination. I hear the Confederate Tranſlators intend to have theirs ſhortly acted, of which 160 L8v 160 which I would fain know the Truth. Mr. Waller has aſsur’d me that he is ſo far from reſenting my having undertaken that Tranſlation, that if the Act done by him ever come upon the Stage, he will borrow ſome of my Lines to mix with his own. A Complement I can never deſerve, but becoming his great Civility, and which I would acknowledge if I knew how. But I am more at a loſs how I ſhall ever make you Amends for all the Troubles you receive from, &c.
1663-06-03June 3. 1663.
Ihave choſen this Reſtraint of Paper to confine me to a ſhort Letter, which I ſometimes promiſe you and ſeldom perform; but muſt now be as good as my Word, being a Woman of great Affairs and in mighty haſte: I have receiv’d your kind Letter, tho’ not timely enough to the 1663-06-10tenth of June, yet before the abſolute Determination of my Buſineſs; for by the great Goodneſs of the Commiſsioners we had a farther Day allow’d us, that we might ſay all we could for our Pretenſions at Law, and what will yet become of it I know not, but own I am a little doubtful of the Succeſs, becauſe the Caſe is indeed a little perplex’d and intricate: If M you 162 M1v 162 you have a mind to be troubled with the whole Detail of it, the Trojan to whom I have written it will tell it you, and ſave both of us the Trouble, you of reading, and me of writing a tedious Narrative here: Only this I cannot forbear, that I have got one of the Cauſes already, and the other is undetermin’d, and this Day to be argu’d at Law; and if we ſhould come by the worſt on’t, my Comfort is, ’tis but for the Thirds of a ſmall Eſtate for an old Woman’s Life. Sir Allen Broderick came to me on the Receipt of yours, with great Profeſsions of Service, which I believe him ready to make good as far as Juſtice and Honour will permit, and more I will never deſire of him or any Man living. I muſt now tell you a pleaſant Adventure of your Grandfather, who having 163 M2r 163 having manfully conducted me into the Court, and offer’d his whole Company to be my Affidavit-Men, if I had occaſion for them, no ſooner laid Eyes on my Adverſary, who is indeed a pretty Woman, than he was ſmitten to the Heart, and forſook me in the Eyes of the whole World, making his Addreſses to her publickly in the Court; and to compleat all, gallanted her home in his Coach, and left me to ſhift for my ſelf, and get away as I could. Judge if he have not taken full Revenge for the Rebus I made of him. I long to hear your Succeſs at the Committee; for tho’ knowing the Juſtice of your Cauſe I cannot much doubt it; yet we muſt be in pain for what we moſt wiſh and deſire, till we are certain of the Event. I have not heard from Wales theſe three Weeks, whence I conjecture M2 that 164 M2v 164 that Antenor is gone to London in order to ſerve you at the Hearing; if ſo; I hope it will be a means of gaining him your Acquaintance more particularly, which is one of the greateſt Advantages I can wiſh him. There is a Plot diſcover’d here, but what to make of it I know not; and indeed ’tis ſo unlucky an Age for Plots, that even thoſe on the Stage cannot thrive: For the Players disband apace, and I am afraid you will ſhortly ſee a Farce, or a Puppet-ſhow at London, call’d Ireland in ridicule;wherein all the Plays will be repeated, and the Actors themſelves acted in Burleſque. Then Pompey will be ſqueak’d out in a Tone as lamentable as the Language; and, unleſs you prevent it, the very Puppets will take Example by the Printers, and fall out among themſelves, whether Cæsar or Ptolomy 165 M3r 165 Ptomoly ſhall have the beſt Hobby- Horſe. But to be ſerious: Since you approve the Method I propos’d of inſcribing it to her Royal Highneſs, I am a little concern’d to have it reprinted; it can ſcarce be more expos’d than it has been already, and I would have it ſo, more to the purpoſe; and therefore if Crook does not intend to reprint it, I know not what Right he can pretend to hinder Herringman, whom, I think, you may ſafely warrant in the printing it, if he be willing to purſue his firſt Intentions. My Lady Roscomon is gone into the Country, and I know not whether I ſhall ever ſee her more; but muſt always acknowledge to have found her one of the moſt generous and obliging Perſons I ever met with: If I had gain’d nothing but her Friendſhip by my coming into Ireland, I ſhould not M3 think 166 M3v 166 think I had loſt my Labour. By this time you ſee what the Engliſh of a ſhort Letter is, when I write to Poliarchus;but tho’ I cannot keep my word in that, I am ſure I ſhall in the Profeſsion I make of being all my Life, &c.
Iam overjoy’d to hear of the Victory you have gain’d at the Committee, tho’ I could foreſee no leſs both from the Equity of your Cauſe, and the Intereſt you had to ſupport it; but what pleaſes me moſt is, that the Proofs were ſo clear, that even Mr. Vaughan with all his Cunning was forc’d to ſecond whom he could not reſiſt. I am very glad too that Antenor was preſent; for though I knew he would never decline any thing that might tend to the Service of ſo dear and noble a Friend to us as Poliarchus, yet I was not certain what Impoſsibilities he might meet with in that Attempt, thro’ want M4 of 168 M4v 168 of Health, or ſomewhat of that nature, Sir Francis has now made himſelf as ridiculous in London, as he is in the Country, and done you and Antenor all the Right he could have ſtudy’d to do you. But I have not ſo good News to ſend you of my Succeſs here, for I have this very Day loſt the laſt of my Cauſes, which however is of far leſs Importance than that in which I got the better, it being only for the Dower of a Widow of ſeventy Years of Age, and the other for the whole Eſtate of Inheritance. But what vexes me moſt is, that I loſt even this Cauſe by the Negligence of Perſons equally concern’d; and whoſe Buſineſs it was to have taken care to get Witneſses who liv’d in the Country. For tho’ the Commiſſionersſioners 169 M5r 169 ſioners ſhew’d us all the Favour they could, yet for want of Evidence to prove the Widow nocent, which they through Covetouſneſs or Careleſsneſs neglected to do, we were put upon this moot Point, whether the Husband’s Guilt debarr’d the Wife of her Dower? which was carry’d againſt us, becauſe ſhe derives from Law, not from her Husband: So we muſt be troubled with this old Woman’s Thirds during her Life. I have ſecur’d a Veſsel, and am to imbark next Week for Milford, where I expect to find Antenor, with whom I hope you will uſe your Endeavours to facilitate my coming to London, if you continue in the ſame Mind that you have often ſo kindly expreſs’d to me in your Letters. You muſt contrive ſome plauſible Pretence to make 170 M5v 170 make him believe, that by being there I might be very uſeful to his Affairs by the means of your Friendſhip, and by the Aſsiſtance of my other Friends. You know how to manage this Matter, but if you pleaſe conſult with my Brother concerning it, before you mention it to my Husband. He will inform you of the Method it will be moſt proper to follow. I confeſs I deſire with great Earneſtneſs to ſee you once more, but that Happineſs muſt be procur’d me by your Management and Conduct, or not at all. Anſwer me to this Particular in Italian. This puts me in mind of Moroſe, anſwer me not but with your Leg. You ſee what converſing with you can inſpire. This is the firſt pleaſant Imagination I have had to Day, tho’ the Recepiipt of your Letter brought me 171 M6r 171 me more Content, for that made me glad, and I am now but merry. Adieu, dear Poliarchus, and believe me ever, &c.
Tho’ I am in a great Hurry and Trouble, as you may eaſily imagine, being within this Hour to go Aboard for Milford, yet I could not omit the Temptation of this Poſt to acquaint you with it; and intreat you to let me hear from you by the old Direction to Cardigan, with a Conſtancy worthy of your generous Friendſhip, and my ineſtimable Value for it. Particularly let me have your Anſwer in Italian concerning what I writ to you in my two laſt Letters, and which I have not now time to repeat; but believe you enough underſtand me, who am while I have Breath, &c.
Itake an Opportunity of writing to you by a private Hand, becauſe the Poſt is ſo very unſafe, that I fear many of mine, and yours too, which are of ten times more Importance, have miſcarry’d: but becauſe we have no other way to depend on conſtantly, I muſt beg you to make ſo effectual a Complaint, as may not only produce a greater Conveniency and Eaſe to our Correſpondence, but be likewiſe a Help to the whole Country; for the Grievance is now become ſo general, that the Grand Jury at Carmarthen, have preſented Mr. Oneal, the Poſt-Maſter General, for his Miſdemeanours in that Office, by which ſeveral trading Perſonsſons 174 M7v 174 ſons have been almoſt ruin’d; for their Letters either miſcarrying, or coming too late to their Hands, has put them to ſuch Streights in their Buſineſs, that they have been undone by it. The Perſons who keep the Stages on the Roads complain they are not paid; if that be true, who can blame them for being remiſs in their Duty? If it be objected that the Milford Poſt will not clear Charges, you may anſwer, that their own Neglect is the cauſe of it; for the Country is ſo diſcourag’d by the Uncertainty and Neglectfulneſs of the Poſt, that they chuſe rather, when they have any Buſineſs of Moment, to ſend a Meſſenger on purpoſe to London, than truſt the Poſt with it; and this has been often obſerv’d to be even a more expeditious Method. We had rather pay more for our Letters, than 175 M8r 175 than be us’d at the ſcandalous rate we now are; and therefore, Sir, pray give Mr. Oneale no reſt, till this Abuſe be throughly reform’d; and if you find no Redreſs from him, acquaint the Duke of York with it, who I am ſure will not ſuffer us to be thus abus’d by his Officers, and whoſe Revenue ſuffers by it in the main. Pardon this Trouble on account of the Earneſt Deſire I have of converſing with you with more certainty, while I am at ſuch a diſtance from you, as will allow me no other way, which I yet hope will not be long; for Antenor has with great Acknowledgments of your Kindneſs aſsur’d me how generouſly you concern’d your ſelf in his particular Affairs, and not only gave him your Advice, but promis’d your Aſsiſtance in procuring him ſo advantageous a Poſt, 176 M8v 176 Poſt, as might help to diſengage his Eſtate, and countenance our Journy to a Place, which tho’ it be my native one, is not ſo dear to me on that account, as becauſe it will give me an Opportunity to converſe with ſome few worthy Friends, of which Number Poliarchus may be aſſur’d he is one of the firſt. I have already taken the Freedom to tell you, how things ſtand with us in relation to our Eſtate, and how juſt a Deſire I had to receive no Satiſfaction my ſelf, which muſt be prejudicial to my dear Antenor;that therefore I could not propoſe to my ſelf any way to recover the Happineſs of your Company, unleſs I had a Proſspect at the ſame time of doing him ſome Service; for I ſhould never be able to endure the inward Reproach of not having promoted his Intereſt to the utmoſt of my Power. 177 N1r 177 Power. His too generous and publick Spirit in the Service of his Country has been ſo deſtructive to his Fortune, that he cannot without utter Ruine, leave the little Concern he has here, unleſs he have a Proſpect of ſuch Advantages elſewhere, as may make Amends for his Abſence, and help him to get rid of his Incumbrances. Since therefore you and our other Friends give us reaſon to believe, that I may promote ſuch an end, and ſince you are pleas’d to promiſe your generous Aſsiſtance, I refer my ſelf wholly to you and my Brother Philips, whom Antenor has deſir’d to look out for ſomething that might deſerve our Endeavours to get it. My Lady Cork told me in Dublin, that ſhe would not reſt till ſhe had got me to London, and would conſult with you how to bring it about; N Rosania 178 N1v 178 Rosania too I’m ſure will lend her helping hand, and be content to be troubled with me; ſo that if you three, together with my Brother, will conſult of the Meaſures proper to be taken in this matter, I’m ſure it may be effected. For you know nothing is deſir’d here but ſuch a Propoſal as may reward and countenance the Journey, which muſt nevertheleſs have your Requeſt to colour the undertaking it. Antenor is brim full of your Goodneſs and Friendſhip to him; he talks of nothing with ſo much Content, and I can hear of nothing with more. But let me not forget to tell you before I conclude, that I have ſeen the ſecond and fourth Acts of Pompey that was tranſlated by the Wits, and have read and conſider’d them very impartially; the Expreſsions are ſome of them great and noble, and 179 N2r 179 and the Verſes ſmooth; yet there is room in ſeveral places for an ordinary Critick to ſhew his Skill. But I cannot but be ſurpriz’d at the great Liberty they have taken in adding, omitting and altering the Original as they pleaſe themſelves: This I take to be a Liberty not pardonable in Tranſlators, and unbecoming the Modeſty of that Attempt: For ſince the different ways of writing ought to be obſerv’d with their ſeveral Proprieties, this way of garbling Authors is fitter for a Paraphraſe than a Tranſlation; but having aſsum’d ſo great a Licence, I wonder their Verſes are any where either flat or rough, which you will obſerve them not ſeldom to be; beſides, their Rhymes are frequently very bad, but what chiefly diſguſts me is, that the Sence moſt commonly languiſhes through three or four Lines, and N2 then 180 N2v 180 then ends in the middle of the fifth: For I am of Opinion, that the Sence ought always to be confin’d to the Couplet, otherwiſe the Lines muſt needs be ſpiritleſs and dull. I wiſh you could procure me the third and fifth Acts, for I long to ſee them, eſpecially the third, which I take to be the moſt noble and beſt written in the French. I am impatient likewiſe to hear your Thoughts of that Tranſlation. You know me as far from Envy, as thoſe Gentlemen are above it, and therefore will not impute the Freedom I have taken in theſe Remarks to that or any other Paſsion, but purely to my Opinion, and the Liberty I take of telling it to ſo intimate a Friend as Poliarchus; for after all I really think the worſt of their Lines equal to the beſt in my Tranſlation. If that Play had tir’d the Spectators as much 181 N3r 181 much as my Letter has you, they would have given it but a cold Reception; but you, I know, will pardon all the Troubles that you have created to your ſelf, and encourag’d from her that is more than any body in the whole World, &c.
1663-09-17September 17. 1663.
Iwrit to you ſo much at large by a private Hand laſt Week, that I have little now to add, not having heard from you ſince you writ to me from Oxford: However, had I nothing to ſay but my humble Requeſt that I may conſtantly hear from you, that were Buſineſs enough to create you this Trouble, ſince I eſteem that Happineſs as the greateſt Advantage I could procure for my ſelf. I hope the Court’s Progreſs is now ended, and that this will find you fix’d in Town, where you are like to be often mortify’d with Impertinences like this; and when you grow weary of them, you 183 N4r 183 you muſt tell me ſo, for without an abſolute Prohibition I cannot reſign a Privilege you have not only permitted, but even commanded me to uſe. My Lady tTyrrel promis’d to tell you ſeveral things of Calanthe, which were not fit to be written; I too have many Adventures to relate to you, which for the ſame Reaſon you cannot know till I ſee you. I have heard from Rosania ſince I did from you: She tells me that Poliarchus and ſhe muſt lay their Heads together to contrive ſome way to ſee Orinda; but I have written of this ſo fully in my laſt, that I will now only add, that tho’ Antenor’s Intereſt and my Deſires to ſerve him be the chief Inducement; yet next to that, nothing makes me more covet that Happineſs, than becauſe it will N4 enable 184 N4v 184 enable me to aſsure you, without the Aſsiſtance of our Knaviſh Poſt, that I am eternally, &c.
1663-09-25September 25. 1663.
Ireceiv’d one from you without a Date, but as your Quibble propheſy’d, it was deliver’d of its big Belly very ſafely: The Letters you knew not were from two of my Lord of Cork’s Daughters, who by me ask your Pardon for the Trouble they gave you of that Conveyance, which I know they will eaſily obtain, becauſe it was at my Requeſt they did it. And now, Sir, I muſt return you a thouſand Acknowledgments for all your Concern both for my ſelf and my Antenor; and aſsure you, there are not in the World two Perſons who honour Poliarchus more than we, or whoſe Hearts are more zealouſly inclin’d to his Service. Antenor had 186 N5v 186 had the Commiſsions out according to his Deſire, and is even confounded with the ſenſe of your Goodneſs to him, which, I confeſs, pleaſes me extremely; for valuing you ſo much as I do, and being oblig’d to you ſo much as I am, what ſhould I do, if he did not help me to bear the Weight of ſo many Favours, which ’tis equally impoſsible for me or both of us either to forget or repay. He remembers well what you told him relating to his own Concerns, and has mention’d it ſeveral times with the higheſt Senſe of Gratitude for your Friendſhip in thoſe Expreſsions. He is now putting his ſhatter’d Affairs into ſome new Model, in order to leave his little All as clear as he found it; and I believe it will require the beſt part of this Winter to reduce his long-neglected Buſineſsneſs 187 N6r 187 neſs into ſuch a Method, as will admit his Abſence from hence. His late Indiſpoſitions and other Accidents, that threw him into ſome Remiſsneſs of his own Concerns, have brought them into ſuch a Diſorder, as will not eaſiily be regulated. Several ſucceſsive Croſses had ſo unhing’d his Care and Induſtry, that his Enemies inſulted over him, as if his Heart had been quite broken, and his Tenants and Servants us’d him as they pleas’d. But I thank God, I find him now quite another Perſon than when I came laſt from London. The good Fortune he had to carry the Election for you was the firſt time that any of his Relations took notice, that he began to reſume his former Heart and Reſolution, which he has ever ſince preſerv’d by doing all things with his wonted Care and Courage;rage; 188 N6v 188 rage; ſo that I make no queſtion but God has ſome Bleſsings in ſtore for us, ſince he has been pleas’d to put him again into the Humour and Capacity of Buſineſs, for which no Man is more naturally fit than himſelf. I know you will excuſe this familiar Narrative of our private Circumſtances, ſince you cannot deſire to be ignorant of the Affairs of Perſons, in which your own Goodneſs and Generoſity, as well as our Gratitude, have intereſted you ſo much. But the Truth is, as the Trojan can tell you, I know not yet how it will be poſsible for Antenor ſo to unravel his entangled and confus’d Concerns, as to be able to come to Town this Winter, and I ſhould be very unwilling to leave him; nor indeed would it appear well to the World, if we ſhould part ſo ſoon, after having been 189 N7r 189 been ſo long aſunder. Therefore I muſt ſtay till the Spring, and then, if his Affairs will not permit him, I know he will give me leave to go without him, if he can have from you, whom he ſo much honours, any Invitation and probable Perſuaſion that I may do him ſome Service there, that will reward and excuſe the Journey. This was the reaſon that in my laſt Letter I mention’d a Deſire of having ſome particular thing fix’d on by the Trojan; for you know, that Particulars are always more effectual and perſuaſive than things ſaid in General, and therefore may ſooner induce him to permit my attempting them. I refer it wholly to you, and deſire your Opinion of it with your uſual Friendſhip and Freedom. I have already aſsur’d him of the Generoſity and Goodneſs of my LadyCork190N7v190 Cork and Rosania, and that they will be willing to aſsiſt you with their Intereſt in our behalf; ſo that it muſt be ſomething much more difficult than any thing in queſtion, that can reſiſt the united Forces of you three. But I have dwelt ſo long on this Subject, that I fear I have quite tir’d you; yet you may be ſure I would not have done it with any other Deſign or greater Ambition, than that I might tire you yet more with my Converſation, which nevertheleſs I own to be ſo dull and taſtleſs, that you might juſtly decline giving your Vote, much more your Help, to have it again. But when you deny me either of them, I ſhall ſoon loſe the Deſire of coming to Town, having nothing more in my Eye by that Journey, than to recover the Opportunity of converſing with ſo excellent 191 N8r 191 excellent a Friend, who in all the Conditions and Places wherein I can be, may be aſsur’d that Orinda is, &c.
1663-10-02Octob. 2. 1663.
Ihave ſince I came from Ireland receiv’d from you in all but five Letters, and have written ſix times to you; and yet the Trojan tells me you have had but two, and are grown ſo ſtout that you will write no more: But pray where’s the Juſtice of revenging on me the villainous Neglects of the Poſt? Get but that Grievance once redreſs’d, and you will have no reaſon to complain of my Silence. Let me beg of you to ſet about it an earneſt; for ſince I am not like to ſee you till the Spring, it concerns me much to have the Poſt reſtor’d to its former certainty. My Lady Cork is now in Town, and I deſire you to wait on her, and uſe your 193 O1r 193 your utmoſt Eloquence to expreſs the Senſe I have of the Merits of that noble Family, and of the infinite Obligations they have laid upon me; and when you think it proper give my Lady an occaſion of expreſsing her ſelf on the Subject I mention’d formerly, that ſhe would join with you in aſsiſting the Deſign of my coming to London, and diſcover if you can, whether ſhe is pleas’d to preſerve the generous Intentions of Kindneſs ſhe ſo nobly aſsur’d me of in Dublin, as well in general, as in that particular of which I now ſpeak. Our dear Friend Rosania too will, I believe, be in Town as ſoon as this Letter, and whatever you three reſolve on ſhall be at once my Preſcription and Happineſs. I have already in ſeveral of my former Letters told you all my Thoughts on O this 194 O1v 194 this matter, and will not at this time repeat any thing but my Wiſhes, that once before I die, Providence will allow me to ſee Poliarchus, Rosania, and the noble Family I but now mention’d. This comes to you by a Foot-Poſt of ours, whoſe Return, I hope, will bring me an account of you; and if you can ſend me the third or fifth Act of the new Pompey, it will much oblige me. The next I write ſhall give you my ſecond Thoughts of the two Acts I have already, after a moſt diligent and ſtrict peruſal of them; but I would fain have your Senſe of the whole, now you have ſeen it acted; for I am not to be biaſs’d or ſway’d in my Opinion by the common Judgment of the Town; being of Mr. Cowley’s Mind, that the Creatures of the Theatre are govern’d by Fortune, as 195 O2r 195 as well as all other things. Philaster, I hear, is in London, his Name, as Hudibras ſays, being Regiſter’d with Fame eternal,In deathleſs Pages of diurnal. I expected to have heard from him e’er now. If you have Tasso’s Aminta pray ſend it me to read: You may thank your ſelf for encouraging by your own Commands the Confidence of this Requeſt, after ſo many Favours of the ſame kind that I have receiv’d already; but how much ſoever I treſpaſs on your Goodneſs, ’tis always with the inward Aſsurance, that I am to the greateſt degree, &c.
1663-10-13Octob. 13. 1663.
Your Silence for a whole Month and more troubles me ſo much, that I know not what to ſay to you, nor how to reſolve whether this Misfortune be the Effect of your Unkindneſs, or the Injuſtice of the Poſt. ’Tis certain I have receiv’d but one Letter from you ſince your Return to London, and in that was enclos’d one from my Lady Elizabeth Boyle out of Ireland. Since that I have written ſeveral to you, both by the Poſt and private Hands, but have never had the Satisfaction to know whether you receiv’d them or not. Sometimes I am melancholy enough to fancy that I gave you too much Trouble about our private Affairs, and 197 O3r 197 and us’d you with too much Familiarity for you to pardon; and that from hence proceeds this your unuſual Silence. If ſo, you may be aſsur’d that I have ſuffer’d enough by this dumb way of Puniſhment, and therefore let me intreat you to write now, even tho’ it be to chide, rather than be ſilent any longer. To correſpond with you is ſo great an Advantage to me, that I ſhall not part with it upon eaſie Terms; and therefore you muſt downright forbid my importuning you before I can learn ſo much good Manners: But I ſtill hope that Poliarchus has Friendſhip enough for Orinda to hold out againſt all her Weakneſses; and that he would never have given her ſuch convincing Proofs of his being her Friend, if he had not intended to continue ſo for ever. I promiſe my ſelf, therefore,O3 fore, 198 O3v 198 fore, that I ſhall hear again from you, and particularly deſire your Anſwers to theſe Queſtions, Whether we ſhall have any Redreſs in our Poſt-Grievance? Whether you have ſeen the Cork Family, and how you like their Acquaintance? But chiefly, whether you repent not of your moſt obliging Concern for one who merits your Goodneſs ſo little, and trys it ſo much, as, &c.
1663-11-1313 Novemb. 1663.
Ipurpoſely neglected to anſwer yours of the ſecond of November by laſt Poſt, hoping that your Commands would inſpire me with ſomething worthy your Peruſal; but I find upon Trial that I am now grown ſo dull, ſo heavy, and, in a word, ſo good for nothing, that neither my Importunities, nor your Interceſsions, will prevail with the Muſes to be kind to me in any Attempt of the nature you preſcribe; but becauſe you ſhall ſee how great a Power all your Deſires have over me, I am contented to expoſe my ſelf, as you will find by O4 the 200 O4v 200 the inclos’d Copy of Verſes, to any Cenſure, rather than that of Diſobedience. I know to whom I ſend them, and that you are ſo much my Friend as to conceal, or correct them ſo as to make them capable of Pardon, which now I am ſure they are not. I leave them therefore wholly to your Mercy, of which you can give no greater an Inſtance, than by committing to the Flames a Paper, which, I fear, is paſt all Correction. And this I muſt injoin you to do, if any other Poem has been ſeen on the ſame Subject; for then I am ſure this would appear with as much Diſgrace, as covers my poor Tranſlation of Pompey, ſince the Luſtre of the other obſcur’d it. But if no other Perſon has been before- 201 O5r 201 before-hand with me, and you reſolve to expoſe me, be pleas’d to make me addreſs my ſelf not as I do, but as I ought to do to ſo great and ſacred a Perſon. I know how difficult it is to ſpeak of Princes as we ought; how much more difficult is it then for one born and bred on ſo rude and dark a Retreat as I have been, to accoſt them in ſuch a manner as to deſerve their Pardon? But to make the Muſes talk impertinently in ſuch a Preſence is what I bluſh to think on, and could never have had the Confidence to ſend the inclos’d Paper of Verſes to any but Poliarchus, who has Skill and Judgment enough to refine and mend them, or if he think them not worth the Pains, is Friend enough to ſuppreſspreſs 202 O5v 202 preſs them. All I deſire is, that when you read this Poem, you will not condemn me for a Dulneſs that you will find growing upon me, but conſider, that my Abſence from all the Converſation that can refine my Wit, the Employments of a Country Life, and the Uneaſineſses of my Fortune, are able to blunt a much finer Pen than ever I was Miſtreſs of. And indeed I find the Weights of my Misfortunes ſink me down ſo low, that unleſs I am quickly reſtor’d to the refreſhing Charms of your Company, I ſhall be paſt Recovery and incapable of enjoying it. I will therefore not deſpair, but that my kinder Stars have yet reſerv’d ſo much good Fortune in ſtore for me; which, if it ever happens, I ſhall then ſpeak better Senſe, 203 O6r 203 Senſe, and in all Reſpects have more Pretence to the Honour of ſubſcribing my ſelf, &c.
1663-11-28November 28. 1663.
On the twenty firſt inſtant I receiv’d yours of no Date; but if my Suppoſition be true, that ’twas written the fifteenth, the Poſt is now ſo honeſt as to bring us our Letters in ſix Days; Pray God keep them in that good Mind. And now give me leave to quarrel with you heartily, for preſenting the Copy of Verſes to the Queen, and that too without making any Alteration in them, contrary to the Requeſt I made you, when at the ſame time you knew very well that Mr. Waller had employ’d his Muſe on the ſame Subject. I proteſt I never writ any thing with more Diſtruſt of my ſelf, but am reſolv’d to give you 205 O7r 205 you now a greater Proof of my Complaiſance, than I did then of my Obedience, by altering my Judgment by yours, and rather believing it poſsible that I could ſay ſomething in thoſe Lines not unluckily, than that you could be ſo much miſtaken as to believe ſo, if it had been altogether otherwiſe. And indeed Mr. Waller has, it may be, contributed not a little to encourage me in this Vanity, by writing on the ſame Subject the worſt Verſes that ever fell from his Pen. I could be an outrageous Critick upon them, if I were not reſtrain’d by other Conſiderations: But ſure he, who is ſo civil to the Ladies, had heard that I deſign’d ſuch an Addreſs, and contenting himſelf with having got ſo much the Advantage of me in Pompey, was willing to yield me this 206 O7v 206 this Mate at Cheſs, and to write ill on purpoſe to keep me in Countenance. I remember I have been told that he once ſaid, he would have given all his own Poems to have been the Author of that which my Lady Newcastle writ of a Stag: And that being tax’d for this Inſincerity by one of his Friends, he anſwer’d, that he could do no leſs in Gallantry than be willing to devote all his own Papers to ſave the Reputation of a Lady, and keep her from the Diſgrace of having written any thing ſo ill. Some ſuch Repartee I expect he would make on this occaſion; but I fear I have loſt his Favour for ever in having twice trod in his Steps by writing on Subjects he had choſen; and if the King decided this laſt ſo much to my Advantage, as you 207 O8r 207 you repreſent, I am confident Mr. Waller will never forgive me his Misfortune, which really troubles me, for I ſhould always be more proud of his Friendſhip than of a great Applauſe; not that I am ſo mortify’d to this World as to be inſenſible of the infinite Honour their Majesty’s have done me in receiving ſo very graciouſly that worthleſs Tribute from the humbleſt of their Subjects. No, I look on it with a Joy and Reverence next to that I have for the Divine Goodneſs: And as a Gentleman ſaid lately, The People much approveThoſe Prieſts that for ’em pray to Gods they love. So you may be ſure there is abundance of my Thanks and Gratitude due 208 O8v 208 due to you even for this ſingle act, this moſt generous way of laying me at their Majeſty’s Feet, adorn’d with your Concern, and aſsiſted with your Mediation to obtain ſuch Favours from thoſe Powers above, as I by that means have receiv’d. You and I ſtill do what we ever did; you continually oblige, and I always receive the Obligation; and for ought I ſee it muſt ever be ſo; but ’tis not to every one that I would be thus oblig’d; and as you have a certain Right to do good to all the World, ſo you have a particular Aſcendant over me, that makes me wear the Obligations you throw upon me as ſo many Ornaments, and grow proud of my Fetters. To add to the reſt, I have this day receiv’d from you Hudibras and Aminta, which I am much pleas’d with and very thankful 209 P1r 209 thankful for; and beg of you to believe, I have ſuch a ſenſe of all your Favours, as would be much injur’d if it were attempted to be expreſs’d; but yet is as impoſsible ever to be forgotten as to be acknowledg’d by, &c.
1663-12-2424 Decemb. 1663.
Were your Letters written in another Hand, and ſubſcrib’d by another Name, yet the Cheat would not paſs on me, and I ſhould know them to be yours; for there is ſomething ſo generous, ſo obliging, and ſo ingenious in their Stile, that no other Perſon can imitate it: Your laſt of the 26th of December particularly deſerves this Character, and more Acknowledgments than ’tis poſsible for me to make, or you to receive; unleſs you could look into my Heart, and there read my infinite and unſpeakable Gratitude and Thankfulneſs for all your Favours, which are imprinted there in Characters ſo deep and indelible,ble, 211 P2r 211 ble, that except I renounce all ſenſe of the greateſt Merit, and higheſt Obligations, I muſt retain for Poliarchus an immenſe and unchangeable Reſpect and Veneration: This it is that creates in me ſo longing a Deſire to enjoy the ſweets of his delightful Converſation, that ’tis to me no ſmall Affliction not to be able yet to foreſee when I may propoſe to my ſelf the ſatisfaction of that Enjoyment-. I find your Committee has met at laſt, and that you could not then pitch upon any thing to promote the Deſire I have of being among you; and not only ſo, but methinks you ſpeak as if there were ſomething more in it than the only miſsing to find a preſent Expedient to that purpoſe. When I preſs’d to have you meet in a Committee, I did not expect a ſudden P2 Inſpi- 212 P2v 212 Inſpiration ſhould fall upon you to direct you to ſomething that ſhould infallibly anſwer our Deſires; but my meaning was, that if, when you came to conſult together, you found your ſelves to have Indulgence enough for me to be willing to be troubled with my Company, you might be thence forward a ſtanding Committee to aſsiſt each other in furthering that Deſign as Opportunity ſhould offer, or as I ſhould ſee occaſion to requeſt it. But whether it be my Melancholy, or what other Reaſon I have for it I cannot tell, yet ſomething there is that whiſpers me, that at your meeting you foreſaw ſome greater Difficulty in that Affair than before, and whence that could proceed I know not, unleſs you diſcover’d in one another an Indifference and Coldneſs towards me: 213 P3r 213 me: This I deſire to know, and particularly whether you found in my Lady Cork leſs Zeal and Willingneſs to oblige me than you expected, or than ſhe has been often pleas’d to promiſe me; that indeed would be a great Affliction to me, not ſo much on account of any Advantage I propoſe to make by means of her Intereſt, as for the Loſs of her ſelf; for I can never value outward Conveniences as I do Perſons, and the Loſs of a Friendſhip is to me the greateſt of all Loſses. Be pleas’d therefore to let me know freely in your next, whether there be any Ground for this Apprehenſion, which my own Unworthineſs makes me apt to entertain, tho’ I cannot do it without being, in ſome meaſure, injurious to her, who has ſo particularly own’d me, who commandedP3 ded 214 P3v 214 ded me to look on my ſelf as always one of hers; who, of her ſelf, without any hint of mine to that purpoſe, preſs’d my coming to London very earneſtly; who aſsur’d me ſhe would contrive with you how to compaſs it without any Inconvenience to my Affairs, and would not reſt till it were effected. You will allow all this to be ground enough for my deſiring you to diſcourſe with her concerning it; but if after all I am ſo unfortunate as to have her grow cool in her obliging Purpoſes to me, I muſt, tho’ with much Regret, ſubmit to the Stroke; and confeſs I owe all her Goodneſs ſo intirely to her own Pleaſure, and have ſo little Title to it on my own account, that ſhe may juſtly reſume her Bounty, and place it on a worthier Object. I am 215 P4r 215 I am ſo uneaſie till I know the Truth of this, that I beg you once more to put me out of my Pain by the very next Poſt: and if, as I hope, my Melancholy has deceiv’d me into this Fear, I will then tell you more concerning the other Affair, in which I ſhould give you leſs Trouble, if Antenor’s Buſineſs call’d him up to Town; but I cannot find he has the leaſt Thoughts of it, unleſs he can be perſuaded that my going might be of Advantage to his Intereſt. Now I am the unfitteſt Perſon in the World to be an Inſtrument in that Perſuaſion, becauſe it muſt imply an Opinion of my own Power and Capacity to ſerve him, which I have no Reaſon to believe I have; and if I ſhould fail in an Attempt of that nature, I ſhould make him P4 more 216 P4v 216 more unhappy and my ſelf ridiculous. I verily believe we ſhall never do any thing for him, till we are in Town, yet how to propoſe the Journey to him I know not, unleſs either ſomething be found that ’tis probable may be effected for him, or that the general Opinion of his Friends in Town concur to perſuade, that things of that nature are ſnatch’d up before they can be heard of at this diſtance; and that ’tis likely an Attendance at the Fountain- Head may ſoon find out and procure ſomething for him, that may deſerve the Hazard, Time, and Pains; and laſtly, that ’twill be more prudent to reſolve on that courſe, before the preſent hopes that are given me of an Intereſt and of being well receiv’d at Court, wither by Time, and are loſt for want 217 P5r 217 want of laying hold on the Opportunity that now offers. If therefore betwixt this and next March no particular thing can be found out to encourage him, yet a general Vote of his Friends then, ſtrengthen’d by the Opinion, Reaſons and Deſire of Poliarchus may very much incline him to venture on the Journey and Attempt; but till that time draw near I’ll ſay no more of it. I muſt now inform you, that ’twas not Neglect or Reſervedneſs, but meerly Forgetfulneſs, that made me conceal from you what I have begun to tranſlate from the Horace of Monſieur Corneille; if you will lay your Commands on me to ſend it you, I will be ſure to obey you; and now the Poſt is become honeſt, I expect to hear weekly from you, which next to 218 P5v 218 to your Friendſhip it ſelf, is the greateſt Obligation you can lay upon, &c.
1664-01-08Jan. 8. 16634.
Iam ſo oblig’d to you for the generous and friendly Concern you take in the unfortunate Accident of the unworthy publiſhing of my fooliſh Rhymes, that I know not which way to expreſs, much leſs to deſerve the leaſt part of ſo noble an Obligation. Philaster gave me a hint of this Misfortune laſt Poſt, and I immediately took an Opportunity of expreſsing to him the great but juſt Affliction it was to me, and beg’d him to join with you in doing what I ſee your Friendſhip had urg’d you both to do without that Requeſt; for which I now thank you, it being all that could be done to give me Eaſe, but the Smart 220 P6v 220 Smart of that Wound ſtill remains, and hurts my Mind. You may be aſsur’d I had obey’d you by writing after my old ill rate on the occaſion you mention, had you not in your next Letter ſeem’d to have chang’d your Opinion, adviſing me rather to haſten to London and vindicate my ſelf by publiſhing a true Copy. Beſides, I conſider’d it would have been too airy a way of reſenting ſuch an Injury, and I could not be ſo ſoon reconcil’d to Verſe, which has been ſo inſtrumental to afflict me, as to fall to it again already; however, if you ſtill think it proper I will reſign my Judgment and Humour to yours, and try what I can do that way. Mean while I have ſent you inclos’d The following Letter, which was ſent inclos’d in this. my true Thoughts on that Occaſionſion 221 P7r 221 ſion in Proſe, and have mix’d nothing elſe with it, to the end that you may, if you pleaſe, ſhew it to any body that ſuſpects my Ignorance and Innocence of that falſe Edition of my Verſes; and I believe it will make a greater Impreſsion on them, than if it were written in Rhyme: Beſides, I am yet in too great a Paſsion to ſolicite the Muſes, and think I have at this time more reaſon to rail at them than court them; only that they are very innocent of all I write, and I can blame nothing but my own Folly and Idleneſs for having expos’d me to this Unhappineſs; but of this no more till I hear from you again. I muſt now tell you, that the Affliction I am in is very much reliev’d by the Aſsurances you give me of the continuance of my Lady Cork’s Friendſhipſhip 222 P7v 223222 ſhip to me, and that neither my Abſence nor Unworthineſs have robb’d me of her Eſteem. And as I am of your Opinion that my coming to Town may more probably effect ſomething for Antenor, than my ſtay here; ſo I think it very adviſeable to acquaint you, the Trojan thinks he has found out ſomething fit for me to attempt, and that is very honourable and may be compaſs’d. Antenor too approves the Propoſition, and begins to reſolve upon my Journey, as ſoon as he can put his Affairs in a Poſture for my ſetling things here, and my Accommodation there; but to quicken him in this, and confirm him in the other, I think it very neceſsary that in a Letter to him you ſhould repeat the Aſſurances you have formerly given him, of your generous Friendſhip, and 223 P8r 222223 and acquaint him that I ought to haſten to Town as ſoon as poſsible, in order to ſolicite for him the Affair the Trojan has found out; which you may likewiſe repreſent as an Advantage eaſie to be obtain’d, by promiſing him all the Aſsiſtance you have ſo often aſsur’d me of, and which he already doubts not but he ſhall receive from you. Such a Letter from you will be more prevalent with him, than the Perſuaſions of all the World beſides, for he honours no Man ſo much as your ſelf, nor with ſo much Juſtice. You ſee, Sir, how plain I am with you, and I hope you will by this Freedom meaſure the Friendſhip I have for you, and the Confidence I repoſe in you; for certainly I could never make this Requeſt to any but your ſelf, and yet I muſt make another to you 224 P8v 224 you that will be little leſs confident, and that is, that if my Lady Cork continue her Reſolution of writing to me, you would prevail with her, as from your ſelf, not from me, to do it in one inclos’d in your next; and therein if ſhe pleaſe to expreſs her ſelf after her accuſtom’d obliging manner, by aſsuring me of her Friendſhip, and giving her Opinion that my coming may be advantageous to my ſelf, and will not be unacceptable to her, I will ſhew her Letter to Antenor, who, I believe, will look on it as a new Motive for my Journey, and be highly oblig’d by it. Let me know what they ſay of me at Court and every where elſe, upon this laſt Accident, and whether the expoſing all my Follies in this dreadful Shape has not frighted the whole World out of all 225 Q1r 225 all their Eſteem for me. I receiv’d laſt Night a moſt kind Letter from my Lord Orrery, wherein he is ſo partial as to ſpeak of my Tranſlation of Pompey with Preference to the other; you ſhall ſee what he writes when we meet next, which happy Moment I expect with the utmoſt Impatience; for to uſe the words of Stephano Guasto, whoſe Civili Converſationi is a moſt excellent Book, and has often entertain’d me this Winter with great Delight, You have render’d my Taſte ſo delicate by the wonderful Charms of your Converſation, that all other Company ſeems to be dull and inſipid. You cannot therefore much blame me either for my Eagerneſs to regain that Happineſs, or my Tediouſneſs in converſing in this manner with a Perſon ſo much valu’d by all the World, and particularly by me to Q that 226 Q1v 262226 that infinite degree, that I can hardly find the way to that part of my Letter, that muſt aſsure you that I am, &c.
1664-01-29Jan. 29. 16634.
’Tis well you chid me ſo much for endeavouring to expreſs a part of the Senſe I have of your Obligations; for while you go on in conferring them paſt all poſsibility of Acknowledgment, ’tis very convenient for me to be forbidden to attempt it. Your laſt Generoſity in vindicating me for the unworthy Uſage I have receiv’d from the Preſs at London, as much tranſcends all your former Favours, as the Injury done me by that Printer and Publiſher ſurpaſses all the Troubles that to my Remembrance I ever had: All I can ſay to you Q2 for 228 Q2v 228 for it is only this, that you aſsert the Cauſe of an innocent, tho’ a very unhappy Perſon, and that ’tis impoſsible for Malice it ſelf to have printed thoſe Rhymes, which you tell me are got Abroad ſo impudently, with ſo much Wrong and Abuſe to them, as the very Publication of them at all, tho’ never ſo correct, had been to me, who never writ a Line in my Life with Intention to have it printed; and am truly of my Lord Falkland’s mind, when he ſays, —He Danger fear’d than Cenſure leſs,Nor could he dread a Breach like to the Preſs. You know me, Sir, to have been all 229 Q3r 229 all along ſufficiently diſtruſtful of whatever my own want of Company and better Employment, or the Commands of others have ſeduc’d me to write, and that I have rather endeavour’d never to have thoſe Trifles ſeen at all, than that they ſhould be expos’d to all the World in this impudent manner in which they now moſt unhappily are. But is there no Retreat can ſhield me from the Malice of this World? I thought that Rocks and Mountains might have hidden me, that ’twas free for all to beguile their Solitude with what harmleſs Thoughts they pleas’d, and that our Rivers, tho’ they are babbling, would not have betray’d the Follies of impertinent Thoughts that were produc’d on their Banks. But I Q3 am 230 Q3v 230 am the only unfortunate Perſon who cannot ſo much as think in private, who muſt have all my Imaginations and idle Notions rifled and expos’d to play the Mountebanks and dance upon the Ropes to entertain the Rabble, to undergo all the Raillery of the Wits, and all the Severity of the Wiſe, to be the Sport of ſome that can, and Deriſion of others that cannot read a Verſe. This is the moſt cruel Accident that could ever have befallen me, and has already made a proportionate Impreſſion on me; for it has coſt me a ſharp Fit of Sickneſs ſince I heard it; and I believe would have been more fatal, but that I conſider’d what a Champion I have in you, whoſe Credit in the 231 Q4r 231 the World will gain me a belief with all the better ſort of Perſons, that I am ſo innocent of that wretched Artifice of a ſecret Conſent, of which I fear I am ſuſpected, that whoever would have brought me thoſe Copies corrected and amended, and a thouſand Pounds to have bought my Permiſsion to print them, ſhould not have obtain’d it. You know too beſides, that tho’ there are many things in this villanous Impreſsion, which the Ignorance of what occaſion’d them, and the Falſeneſs of the Copies may repreſent very ridiculous and extravagant, yet I could give ſome account of them even to the ſevereſt Cato; and ſure they muſt be more abus’d than I can believe it poſsible for them to be, Q4 (for 232 Q4v 232 (for I have not yet ſeen the Book, nor can imagine what is in it) before they can be diſguis’d in ſuch a manner, as not to deſerve the Character of theſe Lines of Sir Edward Dering in his Epilogue to Pompey, —No bolder Thought can taxThoſe Rhymes of Blemiſh to the bluſhing Sex:As chaſt the Lines, as harmleſs is the Sence,As the firſt Smiles of Infant Innocence. So that I hope there will be no need of juſtifying them to Virtue and Honour. And I am ſo little concern’d for the Reputation of writing Sence, that providedvided 233 Q5r 233 vided the World will believe me wholly innocent of the leaſt Knowledge, much more of any Connivance at this Publication, I will willingly compound never to trouble them with the true Copies, which nevertheleſs you adviſe me to do; though if you ſtill judge it abſolutely neceſsary to the Reparation of this Misfortune, and to the general Satisfaction, and if, as you tell me, all the reſt of my Friends will preſs me to it, I ſhall reſolve upon it with the ſame Reluctancy that I would cut off a Limb to ſave my Life. However, I hope you will ſatisfie all your Acquaintance of my Averſion to it, and did they know me as well as you do, that Apology were very unneceſsary; for I am ſo far from expecting Applauſeplauſe 234 Q5v 234 plauſe on account of any thing I write, that I can ſcarce expect a Pardon: And ſometimes I think that to make Verſes is ſo much above my Reach, and a Diverſion ſo unfit for the Sex to which I belong, that I am about to reſolve againſt it for ever; and could I have recover’d thoſe fugitive Papers that have eſcap’d my Hands, I had long ſince, I believe, made a Sacrifice of them all to the Flames: The truth is, I have always had an incorrigible Inclination to the Vanity of Rhyming, but intended the Effects of that Humour only for my own Amuſement in a retir’d Life, and therefore did not ſo much reſiſt it as a wiſer Woman would have done: But ſome of my deareſt and beſt Friends having found my Ballads 235 Q6r 235 Ballads (for they deſerve no better a Name) they made me ſo much believe they did not diſlike them, that I was betray’d to permit ſome Copies to be taken for their Diverſion, but this with ſo little Concern for them, that I have loſt moſt of the Originals, which I ſuppoſe to be the cauſe of my preſent Misfortune; for ſome infernal Spirits or other have catch’d thoſe Rags of Paper, and what the careleſs blotted Writing kept them from underſtanding, they have ſupply’d by Conjecture, till they have at length put them into the Shape wherein you ſaw them, or elſe I know not which way ’tis poſsible for them to have been collected, and ſo abominably printed as I hear they are. I believe too there are ſome among them that are 236 Q6v 236 are not mine, and thus I am not only injur’d in my own particular, but on the account likewiſe of thoſe worthy Perſons, who had then the ill luck to be of my Converſation, whoſe Names are without their leave expos’d in this Impreſsion, ſo that there are but few things in the Power of Fortune that could have afflicted me more than this treacherous Accident. To conclude, I know you ſo much my Friend, that I need not ask your Pardon for making you this tedious Complaint, but I own ’tis a great Injuſtice to revenge my ſelf thus on you for the Wrongs have been done me by others; and therefore will only tell you, that the ſole Advantage I gain by this cruel News is, that it has convinc’d me by dear Experience, that no Adverſityverſity 237 Q7r 237 verſity can ſhake the Conſtancy of your Friendſhip, and that in the worſt Humour that ever I was in, I ſtill am, &c.
1664-01-29Jan. 29. 16634.
Just now I receiv’d yours of 1664-02-15the fifteenth, which brought me the welcome Aſsurance that you will ſtill have me for your Valentine; an Honour I am moſt unwilling ever to loſe, but was forc’d this Year to truſt it to the Capriciouſneſs of Fortune, whom I ininvok’d with ſo much Fervency, that once in my Life I found her in a good Humour; for ſhe gave me to draw your Name amongſt a dozen. Our Company afterwards drew Motto’s, and I happen’d on one that ſo well deſcrib’d you, that I began to cry Fortune, Mercy, that I had ever call’d her blind: ’twas this, he dances well, and fights well; 239 Q8r 239 well, I might well have added, and obliges well too; for certainly never Man did ſo more, or with a better Grace. But what Thanks ſhall I return you for the great Concern you take for my Intereſt, and for the Aſsurances you give of it in your Letters to Antenor and my ſelf. He is reſolv’d to put his Fortune to the Trial by following your Advice, and haſtening me to London, as ſoon as ’tis poſsible for him to accommodate me for the Journey. Next Poſt I will ſay more of it, mean while ſhall only tell you, that all your Perſuaſions would have been in vain, and could never have prevail’d with me to have undertaken that Attempt, were not the hopes I have of ſerving Antenor, and the pleaſure I propoſe to my ſelf in converſing with Poliarchus, the chief Motives that induce me to it. I am 240 Q8v 240 I am now at Landshipping, where there is a great deal of Company, who command my Attendance. I go home this Week, and then ſhall be more at leiſure, to tell you many ſurprizing Adventures; but my time allowing me now to write but one Letter, ’twas not difficult for me to reſolve to whom it ſhould be; for my Inclinations as well as Obligations equally carry me to aſsure you that I am, &c.
Itold you from Landshipping I would write wondrous Matters to you when I came home, and you may now juſtly expect, not only in Performance of that Promiſe, but in Return of your laſt obliging Letter, that I ſhould ſay much more to you, than my preſent haſte will allow me to do: But when I have told you that this hurry is occaſion’d by my beginning my Journey to London, I know you will the more eaſily forgive it, for you have too often diſcover’d a Willingneſs to be troubled with your Valentine’s ill Company there, for me to ſuſpect you will be ſorry that the time now approachesR ches 242 R1v 242 ches when you will once more be tormented with her impertinent Converſation. But to make you ſupport it the better, let me aſsure you, that the next Satisfaction I propoſe to my ſelf after the Hopes of doing ſomething for Antenor’s Service, is to enjoy the excellent Company of ſome very few Friends, among whom Poliarchus may be aſsur’d he holds the chiefeſt Rank. Nor could I have thus long deny’d my ſelf the Happineſs of his excellent Converſation, would I have liſten’d to the Dictates of my own Deſires, that continually prompted me to purchaſe it by a Forgetfulneſs of my Duty to Antenor. But had I done this, I had not only loſt my own inward Content, but forfeited that Friendſhip I ſhould indeeddeed 243 R2r 243 deed very little deſerve, if I could have hop’d for it on ſuch unworthy Terms. But Antenor is now ſo ſatisfy’d that my going may be for his Advantage, that he haſtens me away as faſt as he can, and I hope God will enable me to anſwer his Expectations; by making me an Inſtrument of doing him ſome handſome Service, which is the only Ambition I have in the World, and which I would purchaſe with the hazard of my Life. I am exceedingly oblig’d to my Lady Cork for remembring me with ſo much Indulgence, for her great deſire to be troubled with my Company; but above all, for her Readineſs to aſsiſt my Endeavours for Antenor, which is the moſt generous Kindneſs can be done me; and I will never abuſe the Goodneſs of thoſe that offer it, R2 by 244 R2v 244 by expecting or deſiring any thing improper or unreaſonable, and whereof I will not make you Judge and Confident, who have already engag’d your ſelf to be an Aſsiſtant. I am call’d away, and can only aſſure you, that to make you the higheſt and trueſt Expreſsion of my Eſteem and Friendſhip, I profeſs that I am more indebted to you on the Score of your own Merit, than of my infinite Obligations to you, tho’ the latter have ſuch a Tye upon me, that nothing but the former can make a greater Impreſsion on the Soul of, &c.
Cardigan Priory, 1664-03-12Mar. 12. 16634.
My Brother has a very great Ambition to have ſo noble and worthy a Friend as your ſelf reſponſible for the Chriſtianity of a Son that God has bleſs’d him with ſince he ſaw you; but he is much out of countenance to deſire this Favour of you; the more too, becauſe his Wife’s Fondneſs of his Name is ſo great, that ſhe has engag’d him to call the Child by it. And it being alſo his Father’s Name, it is thus become that of the Family. I have undertaken that you will pardon the rudeneſs of asking you to be Godfather without giving it your Name, which he and I would much rather do, were it not for an unavoidable Obligation R3 to 246 R3v 246 to the contrary. If I am not miſtaken in your Goodneſs, be pleas’d to come hither this Afternoon a little before three, where it will be privately chriſten’d, and where you ſhall find, &c.
1664-05-17May 17. 1664.
Books printed for Bernard Lintott at the Middle-Temple Gate in Fleetſtreet.
Afull View of Popery, in an Account of the ſcandalous Lives of the Popes, from the pretended Succeſsion of St. Peter to the preſent Pope Clement XI. wherein all the Impoſtures and Innovations of the Church of Rome appear in their true Colours, and all their Objections, Cavils, &c. are fully anſwer’d and confuted; the whole being interſpers’d with ſeveral Paſquils: To which is added, A Vindication of the Reform’d Devotion, in two Parts, written by a Spaniſh Convert, and addreſsed to his Countrymen, now faithfully tranſlated from the 2d Edition, in Spaniſh, printed at London. Price 6 s.
The Double Copy Book, or Inſtructions to Youth, whereby they may, with far more eaſe than uſual, be taught to write a fair uſeful Hand, meerly by diligently tracing over firſt the Red Alphabet and Copies, and then Copying them from the Black, at the ſame time may be alſo inſtructed in the principal R4 Parts 248 R4v Parts of the Catechiſm, publiſh’d by the Directions of the late Sir Charles Cottrel. Price 1.s. 6 d. or 16 s. per Dozen, 12 d. or 10 s. per Dozen, 6 d. or 5 s. per Dozen.
An Univerſal, Hiſtorical, Geographical, Chronological, and Poetical Dictionary, exactly deſcribing the Situation, Extent, Cuſtoms, Laws, Manners, Commodities, &c. of all the Kingdoms, Common Wealths, Provinces, Iſlands and Cities, in the known World. Containing likewiſe, the Lives of the Patriarchs, Prophets, Apoſtles, and Primitive Fathers; Emperors, Kings, Princes, Popes, Cardinals, Biſhops, and other eminent Perſons; with an Account of the Inventors and Improvers of Arts and Sciences, Philoſophers, and all celebrated Authors. Alſo, The Hiſtory of the Pagan Gods, very uſeful the underſtanding of Claſsic Authors; of the ſeveral Sects among the Jews, Chriſtians, Heathens, and Mahometans, with their principal Ceremonies, Games and Feſtivals; of general Councils and Synods, when and where Aſsembled; of the Eſtabliſhment and Progreſs of Religious and Military Orders; and of the Genealogies of the moſt illuſtrious Families, eſpecially our Engliſh, Scotch, and Iriſh. The whole conſiſting of a curious Miſcellany of Sacred and Prophane Hiſtory, Extracted from Moreri, Bayle, Baudrand, Hoffman, Danct, and many more of the beſt and choiceſt Hiſtorians, Geographers, Chronologers and Lexicographers,cographers, 249 R5r cographers, ancient and modern, in two Vol. Price 15 s.
Tales Tragical and Comical, viz. Abradatus and Panthea, or Love and Honour in Perfection. Hell beyond Hell, or the Devil and Madammoiſelle. Female Revenge, or the Queen of Lombardy. The Night-Adventurer, or the Country Intrigue. Fatal Piety, or the Royal Converts. The Broken Commandments, or the Heir Adopted. From the Proſe of ſome Famous, Antique, Italian, Spaniſh, and French Authors. Price 4 s.
State Fables, taken from the moſt celebrated Mythologiſts, with Political Reflections upon them, treating of the different kinds of Government in the World, in order to diſcover which is moſt conducive to the Happineſs of Mankind. In two Vol. Price 10 s.
Poems on ſeveral Occaſions, together with the Song of the Three Children Paraphras’d. By the . Price 3 s.
Seneca’s Morals, by Sir Roger L’Eſtrange. Price 5 s.
Memoirs of the Court of France and City of Paris; Containing the Intrigues of that Court, and the Characters of the Miniſters of State, and other Officers; together with the Occurrences of the Town. In two Parts, Tranſlated from the French. Price 5 s.
A new Collection of Poems and Letters, &c. All written by , Author of The Trip to the Jubilee. Price 2 s.
Love and Buſineſs, in a Collection of Occaſionaryſionary 250 R5v ſionary Verſe and Epiſtolary Proſe, not hitherto publiſh’d. A Diſcourſe likewiſe on Comedy, in reference to the Engliſh Stage, in a familiar Letter. By . Price 2 s.
The Practice of Phyſick reduc’d to the ancient way of Obſervations. Containing a juſt Parallel between the Wiſdom and Experience of the Ancients, and the Hypotheſes of Modern Phyſicians; intermix’d with many practical Remarks upon moſt Diſtempers; together with ſeveral new and curious Diſsertations; particularly of the Tarantula, and the nature of its Poiſon. Of the uſe and abuſe of Bliſtering Plaiſters. Of Epidemical Apoplexies, written in Latin by , M.D. Profeſsor of Phyſick and Anatomy at Rome. Price 5 s.
Characters Hiſtorical and Panegyrical, of the greateſt Men that have appear’d in France during the laſt Century. By . In 2 Vol. Price 7 s.
Familiar Letters, written by the late Mrs. Philips to the late Sir Charles Cottrel, under the Name of Orinda to Poliarchus. Printed from the Originals. Price 4 s.
Praxis Almæ Curiæ Cancellariæ: The Third and laſt Part. Being a Collection of the moſt modern and uſeful Precedents, for drawing Bills, Anſwers, and Demurrers, Interlocutory Orders, Maſters Reports, Exceptions to Anſwers, and Reports, and other Precedents and Inſtruments relating to the Practice of that Court, as well in the Offices about London, as 251 R6r as for executing Commiſsions in the Countrey. Alſo a Collection of choice Writs and Proceſs of the Court, being wholly New and Modern, and drawn by the moſt experienc’d Clerks, according to ſeveral Special Orders made for that purpoſe by the Court, the like never yet extant. Likewiſe ſeveral Appeals in the preſent Lord Keeper’s time, in extraordinary Caſes of great Nicety and Difficulty, from the Court of Chancery to the Judicature of the Lords in Parliament. Together with a copious and uſeful Introduction explaining the preſent Method of Practice in its ſeveral Branches, and a Juſtification of the Privilege of the Clerks of the Court, from the Records of the Tower and other ancient Manuſcripts, retrieving the ſame to the great Advantage and Benefit of the Officers. Clerks, and Miniſters of that Court. The 2d Edition. Price 6 s.
Books written by Mr. Toland.
Letters to Serena; containing 1. The Origin and Force of Prejudices. 2. The Hiſtory of the Soul’s Immortality among the Heathens. 3. The Origin of Idolatry, and Reaſons of Heatheniſm. As alſo, 4. A Letter to a Gentleman in Holland, ſhewing Spinoſa’s Syſtem of Philoſophy to be without any Principle or Foundation. 5. Motion eſsential to Matter; in Anſwer to ſome Remarks by a noble Friend on 252 R6v on the Confutation of Spinoſa. To all which is prefix’d, 6. A. Preface; being a Letter to a Gentleman in London, ſent together with the foregoing Diſsertations, and declaring the ſeveral Occaſions of writing them. Price 4 s.
The Life of John Milton, containing, beſides the Hiſtory of his Works, ſeveral extraordinary Characters of Men and Books, Sects, Parties, and Opinions. 2 s. 6 d.
Amyntor: Or, A Defence of Milton’s Life: Containing; I. A general Apology for all Writings of that Kind. II. A Catalogue of Books attributed in the primitive Times to Jeſus Chriſt, his Apoſtles, and other eminent Perſons; with ſeveral important Remarks and Obſervations relating to the Canon of Scripture. III. A complete Hiſtory of the Book, entitul’d, Icon Baſilike, proving Dr. Gauden, and not King Charles I. to be the Author of it, &c. with Reaſons for aboliſhing the Obſervation of --01-30the thirtieth of January. 2 s.6 d.
The Militia Reform’d; or an eaſie Scheme of furniſhing England with a conſtant Land Force, capable to prevent or to ſubdue any Foreign Power; and to maintain perpetual Quiet at Home, without indangering the publick Liberty. 1 s.
The Life of James Harrington, (the celebrated Author of the Commonwealth of Oceana) prefixt to his Works, ſome whereof never before printed. 1 l.
The Art of Governing by Parties: particularly, in Religion, in Polities, in Parliament, on 253 R7r on the Bench, and in the Miniſtry; with the ill Effects of Parties on the People in general, the King in particular, and all our Foreign Affairs, as well as on our Credit and Trade, in Peace or War, &c. 2 s. 6 d.
Anglia Libera: Or, The Limitation and Succeſsion of the Crown of England explain’d and aſsert’d, as grounded on his Majeſty’s Speech, the Proceedings in Parliament, the Deſires of the People, the Safety of our Religion, the Nature of our Conſtitution, the Balance of Europe, and the Rights of all Mankind. 3 s.
I. Reaſons for addreſsing his Majeſty to invite into England their Highneſſes, the Electoreſs Dowager and the Electoral Prince of Hanover: and likewiſe II. Reaſons for attainting and abjuring the pretended Prince of Wales, and all others pretending any Claim, Right, or Title from the late King James and Queen Mary; with Arguments for making a vigorous War againſt France. 6 d.
Paradoxes of State, relating to the preſent Juncture of Affairs in England, and the reſt of Europe; chiefly grounded on his Majeſty’s princely, pious, and moſt gracious Speech. 6 d.
Vindicius Liberius: Or, Mr. Toland’s Defence of himſelf againſt the Lower Houſe of Convocation. 2 s. 6 d.
The Grounds of Criticiſm, in Poetry, contain’d in ſome new Diſcoveries never made before; requiſite for the writing and judging of Poems ſurely. By . 2 s.
- Love’s laſt Shift.
- Jew of Venice,
- The Inconſtant.
- The Twin Rivals.
- Trip to the Jubilee.
- Humour of the Age.
- Yeoman of Kent.
- Modiſh Husband.
- Czar of Muſcovy.
- Double Diſtreſs.
- Love in Tears.
- Le Medicin Malgre Luy.
- The Old Mode and the New.
- Vice Reclaim’d.
- The Younger the Wiſer.
- All for Love.
- Tyrannick Love.
- State of Innocence.
- Indian Emperor.
- Love in a Wood.
- Mourning Bride.
- Rinaldo and Armida.
- Secret Love, or the Maiden Queen.
- Aureng Zebe.
- Duke of Guiſe.
- Henry the 2d.
- Husband his own Cuckold.
- Antony and Cleopatra.
- Spaniſh Fryar. Conqueſt 255 R8r
- Conqueſt of Granada.
- King Arthur.
- Marriage Alamode.
- Lying Lovers.
- Faithful Bride of Granada.
- Different Widows.
- Liberty Aſserted.
- Timon of Athens.
- Oxford Act.
- Conſtantine the Great.
- Love’s Victim.
- Love betray’d.
- The Agreable Diſappointment.
- Pyrrhus King of Epirus.
- Don Quixot.
- Fairy Queen.
- Generous Conqueror.
- Beau Defeated.
- Sir Robert Howard’s Plays.
- Troilus and Creſsida.
- Sir Martin Marrall.
- Love for Love.
- Love Triumphant.
- Henry the 4th, with the Humors of Sir John Falſtaff.
- Friendſhip improv’d.
- With moſt other Plays.
There is in the Preſs, and will ſpeedily be publiſh’d,
The Second Edition of an Hiſtorical and Geographical Deſcription of Formoſa, an Iſland ſubject to the Emperor of Japan; giving an Account of the Religion, Cuſtoms, Manners, &c. of the Inhabitants. Together with a Relation of what happen’d to the Author in his Travels; particularly his Conferences with the Jeſuits, and others, in ſeveral Parts of Europe. Alſo, the Hiſtory and Reaſons of his Converſion to Chriſtianity, with his Objections againſt it, (in defence of Paganiſm) and their Anſwers. And alſo a farther Vindication of himſelf, from ſeveral Aſperſions flung on him to leſsen his Reputation and the Authority of his Book; the whole illuſtrated with ſeveral Cuts. In this Edition is added a Map of the Country, and a Repreſentation of the Idol they worſhip there. Price 6 s.