He strove to break from those arms that held him so fast; and his bustling to get away, and hers to retain him, disordered her hair and her habit to such a degree, as gave the more credit to her false accusation.

The fathers had a door on the other side, by which they usually entered, to dress in this little room; and at the report that was in an instant made them, they hasted thither, and found Miranda and the good father very indecently struggling; which they misinterpreted, as Miranda desired; who, all in tears, immediately threw herself at the feet of the provincial,26 who was one of those that entered; and cried, ‘O holy father, revenge an innocent maid, undone and lost to fame and honour, by that vile monster, born of goats, nursed by tigers, and bred up on savage mountains, where humanity and religion are strangers. For, O holy father, could it have entered into the heart of man, to have done so barbarous and horrid a deed, as to attempt the virgin-honour of an unspotted maid, and one of my degree, even in the moment of my confession, in that holy time, when I was prostrate before him and Heaven, confessing those sins that pressed my tender conscience; even then to load my soul with the blackest of infamies, to add to my number a weight that must sink me to Hell? Alas, under the security of his innocent looks, his holy habit, and his awful function, I was led into this room, to make my confession; where, he locking the door, I had no sooner begun, but he gazing on me, took fire at my fatal beauty; and starting up, put out the candles, and caught me in his arms; and raising me from the pavement, set me in the confession-chair; and then – Oh, spare me the rest.’

With that a shower of tears burst from her fair dissembling eyes, and sobs so naturally acted, and so well managed, as left no doubt upon the good men, but all she had spoken was truth.

‘At first,’ proceeded she, ‘I was unwilling to bring so great a scandal on his order, as to cry out; but struggled as long as I had breath, pleaded the heinousness of the crime; urging my quality, and the danger of the attempt. But he, deaf as the winds, and ruffling as a storm, pursued his wild design with so much force and insolence, as I at last, unable to resist, was wholly vanquished, robbed of my native purity. With what life and breath I had, I called for assistance, both from men and Heaven; but Oh, alas! your succours come too late. – You find me here a wretched, undone and ravished maid. Revenge me, fathers; revenge me on the perfidious hypocrite, or else give me a death that may secure your cruelty and injustice from ever being proclaimed o’er the world; or my tongue will be eternally reproaching you, and cursing the wicked author of my infamy.’

She ended as she began, with a thousand sighs and tears; and received from the provincial all assurances of revenge.

The innocent betrayed victim, all this while she was speaking, heard her with an astonishment that may easily be imagined; yet showed no extravagant signs of it, as those would do, who feign it to be thought innocent; but being really so, he bore, with an humble, modest, and blushing countenance, all her accusations: which silent shame they mistook for evident signs of his guilt.

When the provincial demanded, with an unwonted severity in his eyes and voice, what he could answer for himself, calling him profaner of his sacred vows, and infamy to the holy order, the injured, but the innocently accused, only replied, ‘May Heaven forgive that bad woman, and bring her to repentance. For his part, he was not so much in love with life, as to use many arguments to justify his innocence; unless it were to free that order from a scandal, of which he had the honour to be professed. But as for himself, life or death were things indifferent to him, who heartily despised the world.’

He said no more, and suffered himself to be led before the magistrate; who committed him to prison, upon the accusation of this implacable beauty; who, with so much feigned sorrow, prosecuted the matter, even to his trial and condemnation; where he refused to make any great defence for himself. But being daily visited by all the religious, both of his own, and other orders, they obliged him (some of them knowing the austerity of his life, others his cause of griefs that first brought him into orders, and others pretending a nearer knowledge even of his soul itself) to stand upon his justification, and discover what he knew of that wicked woman; whose life had not been so exemplary for virtue, not to have given the world a thousand suspicions of her lewdness and prostitution.

The daily importunities of these fathers made him produce her letters. But as he had all the gown-men27 on his side, she had all the hats and feathers on hers; all the men of quality taking her part, and all the church-men his. They heard his daily protestations and vows, but not a word of what passed at confession was yet discovered. He held that as a secret sacred on his part; and what was said in nature of a confession, was not to be revealed, though his life depended on the discovery. But as to the letters, they were forced from him, and exposed; however, matters were carried with so high a hand against him, that they served for no proof at all of his innocence, and he was at last condemned to be burned at the market-place.

After his sentence was passed, the whole body of priests made their addresses to Marquis Casteil Roderigo,28 the then governor of Flanders, for a reprieve; which, after much ado, was granted him for some weeks, but with an absolute denial of pardon; so prevailing were the young cavaliers of his court, who were all adorers of this fair jilt.

About this time, while the poor, innocent young Henrick was thus languishing in prison, in a dark and dismal dungeon; and Miranda, cured of her love, was triumphing in her revenge, expecting, and daily gaining new conquests; and who, by this time, had re-assumed all her wonted gaiety, there was a great noise about the town, that a prince of mighty name, and famed for all the excellencies of his sex, was arrived; a prince young, and gloriously attended, called Prince Tarquin.

We had often heard of this great man, and that he was making his travels in France and Germany; and we had also heard, that some years before, he being about eighteen years of age, in the time when our King Charles of blessed memory was in Brussels,29 in the last year of his banishment, that all on a sudden this young man rose up upon them like the sun, all-glorious and dazzling, demanding place of all the princes in that court. And when his pretence was demanded, he owned himself Prince Tarquin, of the race of the last kings of Rome,30 made good his title, and took his place accordingly. After that, he travelled for about six years up and down the world, and then arrived at Antwerp, about the time of my being sent thither by His Late Majesty.

Perhaps there could be nothing seen so magnificent as this prince: he was, as I said, extremely handsome, from head to foot exactly formed, and he wanted nothing that might adorn that native beauty to the best advantage. His parts were suitable to the rest: he had an accomplishment fit for a prince, an air haughty, but a carriage affable, easy in conversation, and very entertaining, liberal and good-natured, brave and inoffensive. I have seen him31 pass the streets with twelve footmen, and four pages; the pages all in green velvet coats, laced with gold,32 and white velvet trunks; the men in cloth, richly laced with gold; his coaches, and all other officers, suitable to a great man.

He was all the discourse of the town; some laughing at his title, others reverencing it. Some cried, that he was an imposture; others, that he had made his title as plain, as if Tarquin had reigned but a year ago. Some made friendships with him, others would have nothing to say to him; but all wondered where this revenue was that supported this grandeur; and believed, though he could make his descent from the Roman kings very well out, that he could not lay so good a claim to the Roman land. Thus everybody meddled with what they had nothing to do; and, as in other places, thought themselves on the surer side, if, in these doubtful cases, they imagined the worst.

But the men might be of what opinion they pleased concerning him, the ladies were all agreed that he was a prince, and a young, handsome prince, and a prince not to be resisted. He had all their wishes, all their eyes, and all their hearts. They now dressed only for him; and what church he graced, was sure, that day, to have the beauties, and all that thought themselves so.

You may believe, our amorous Miranda was not the last conquest he made. She no sooner heard of him, which was as soon as he arrived, but she fell in love with his very name. Jesu! – A young King of Rome! Oh, ’twas so novel, that she doted on the title; and had not cared whether the rest had been man or monkey almost. She was resolved to be the Lucretia,33 that this young Tarquin should ravish.

To this end, she was no sooner up the next day, but she sent him a billet-doux, assuring him how much she admired his fame; and that being a stranger in the town, she begged the honour of introducing him to all the belle-conversations, etc. Which he took for the invitation of some coquet, who had interest in fair ladies; and civilly returned her an answer, that he would wait on her. She had him that day watched to church; and impatient to see what she heard so many people flock to see, she went also to the same church; those sanctified abodes being too often profaned by such devotees, whose business is to ogle and ensnare.

But what a noise and humming was heard all over the church when Tarquin entered; his grace, his mien, his fashion, his beauty, his dress, and his equipage surprised all that were present; and by the good management and care of Miranda, she got to kneel at the side of the altar, just over against the Prince; so that, if he would, he could not avoid looking full upon her. She had turned up her veil, and all her face and shape appeared such, and so enchanting as I have described; and her beauty heightened with blushes, and her eyes full of spirit and fire, with joy to find the young Roman monarch so charming, she appeared like something more than mortal, and compelled his eyes to a fixed gazing on her face. She never glanced that way, but she met them; and then would feign so modest a shame, and cast her eyes downward with such inviting art, that he was wholly ravished and charmed, and she overjoyed to find he was so.

The ceremony being ended, he sent a page to follow that lady home, himself pursuing her to the door of the church; where he took some holy water, and threw upon her, and made her a profound reverence. She forced an innocent look, and a modest gratitude in her face, and bowed, and passed forward, half assured of her conquest; leaving him to go home to his lodging, and impatiently wait the return of his page.