All this was done, his beheading, his falling, and his being secured, almost in a moment’s time; the people rejoicing, as at some extraordinary victory won. One of the officers being, as I said, an old, timorous man, was so frightened at the accident, the bustle, the noise, and the confusion, of which he was wholly ignorant, that he died with amazement and fear; and the other was fain to be let blood.48

The officers of justice went to demand the prisoner, but they demanded in vain; they had now a right to protect him, and would do so. All his overjoyed friends went to see in what condition he was, and all of quality found admittance. They saw him in bed, going to be dressed by the most skilful surgeons, who yet could not assure him of life. They desired nobody should speak to him, or ask him any questions. They found that the headsman had struck him too low, and had cut him into the shoulder-bone. A very great wound, you may be sure; for the sword, in such executions, carries an extreme force. However, so good care was taken on all sides, and so greatly the fathers were concerned for him, that they found an amendment, and hopes of a good effect of their incomparable charity and goodness.

At last, when he was permitted to speak, the first news he asked was after the princess. And his friends were very much afflicted to find that all his loss of blood had not quenched that flame, nor let out that which made him still love that bad woman. He was solicited daily to think no more of her; and all her crimes were laid so open to him, and so shamefully represented, and on the other side, his virtues so admired; and which, they said, would have been eternally celebrated, but for his folly with this infamous creature; that at last, by assuring him of all their assistance if he abandoned her, and to renounce him, and deliver him up, if he did not, they wrought so far upon him, as to promise he would suffer her to go alone into banishment, and would not follow her, or live with her any more. But, alas! this was but his gratitude that compelled this complaisance, for in his heart he resolved never to abandon her; nor was he able to live, and think of doing it. However, his reason assured him, he could not do a deed more justifiable, and one that would regain his fame sooner.

His friends asked him some questions concerning his escape; and that since he was not beheaded, but only wounded, why he did not immediately rise up. But he replied, he was so absolutely prepossessed, that at the third lifting up his hands, he should receive the stroke of death, that at the same instant the sword touched him, he had no sense, nay, not even of pain, so absolutely dead he was with imagination; and knew not that he stirred, as the headsman found he did; nor did he remember anything, from the lifting up of his hands, to his fall; and then awakened, as out of a dream, or rather a moment’s sleep, without dream, he found he lived; and wondered what was arrived to him, or how he came to live, having not, as yet, any sense of his wound, though so terrible a one.

After this, Alcidiana, who was extremely afflicted for having been the prosecutor of this great man; who, bating49 his last design against her, which she knew was the instigation of her sister, had obliged her with all the civility imaginable; now sought all means possible of getting his pardon, and that of her sister; though of a hundred thousand crowns which she should have paid her she could get but ten thousand; which was from the sale of her rich beds, and some other furniture. So that the young count, who before should have married her, now went off for want of fortune; and a young merchant (perhaps the best of the two) was the man to whom she was destined.

At last, by great intercession, both their pardons were obtained; and the prince, who would be no more seen in a place that had proved every way so fatal to him, left Flanders, promising never to live with the fair hypocrite more; but ’ere he departed, he writ her a letter, wherein he ordered her, in a little time, to follow him into Holland; and left a bill of exchange with one of his trusty servants, whom he had left to wait upon her, for money for her accommodations, so that she was now reduced to one woman, one page, and this gentleman. The prince, in this time of his imprisonment, had several bills of great sums from his father, who was exceeding rich, and this all the children he had in the world, and whom he tenderly loved.

As soon as Miranda was come into Holland, she was welcomed with all imaginable respect and endearment by the old father; who was imposed upon so, as that he knew not she was the fatal occasion of all these disasters to his son, but rather looked on her as a woman who had brought him a hundred and fifty thousand crowns, which his misfortunes had consumed. But, above all, she was received by Tarquin with a joy unspeakable; who, after some time, to redeem his credit, and gain himself a new fame, put himself into the French army, where he did wonders; and after three campaigns,50 his father dying, he returned home, and retired to a country house, where, with his princess, he lives as a private gentleman, in all the tranquillity of a man of a good fortune. They say Miranda has been very penitent for her life past, and gives Heaven the glory for having given her these afflictions, that have reclaimed her, and brought her to as perfect a state of happiness as this troublesome world can afford.

Since I began this relation, I heard that Prince Tarquin died about three quarters of a year ago.

OROONOKO 1
OR
THE ROYAL SLAVE
A TRUE HISTORY

I DO not pretend, in giving you the history of this royal slave, to entertain my reader with the adventures of a feigned hero, whose life and fortunes fancy may manage at the poet’s pleasure; nor in relating the truth, design to adorn it with any accidents, but such as arrived in earnest to him. And it shall come simply into the world, recommended by its own proper merits, and natural intrigues; there being enough of reality to support it, and to render it diverting, without the addition of invention.

I was myself an eye-witness, to a great part, of what you will find here set down; and what I could not be witness of, I received from the mouth of the chief actor in this history, the hero himself, who gave us the whole transactions of his youth; and though I shall omit, for brevity’s sake, a thousand little accidents of his life, which, however pleasant to us, where history was scarce, and adventures very rare; yet might prove tedious and heavy to my reader, in a world where he finds diversions for every minute, new and strange. But we who were perfectly charmed with the character of this great man, were curious to gather every circumstance of his life.2

The scene of the last part of his adventures lies in a colony in America, called Surinam,3 in the West Indies.

But before I give you the story of this gallant slave, ’tis fit I tell you the manner of bringing them to these new colonies; for those they make use of there, are not natives of the place;4 for those we live with in perfect amity, without daring to command them; but on the contrary, caress them with all the brotherly and friendly affection in the world; trading with them for their fish, venison, buffaloes, skins, and little rarities; as marmosets, a sort of monkey as big as a rat or weasel, but of a marvellous and delicate shape, and has face and hands like an human creature; and cousheries,5 a little beast in the form and fashion of a lion, as big as a kitten; but so exactly made in all parts like that noble beast, that it is it in miniature. Then for little parakeets, great parrots, macaws, and a thousand other birds and beasts of wonderful and surprising forms, shapes, and colours. For skins of prodigious snakes, of which there are some threescore yards in length; as is the skin of one that may be seen at His Majesty’s Antiquaries, where are also some rare flies,6 of amazing forms and colours, presented to them by myself, some as big as my fist, some less; and all of various excellencies, such as art cannot imitate. Then we trade for feathers, which they order into all shapes, make themselves little short habits of them, and glorious wreaths for their heads, necks, arms and legs, whose tinctures are inconceivable. I had a set of these presented to me, and I gave them to the King’s Theatre, and it was the dress of the Indian Queen,7 infinitely admired by persons of quality, and were inimitable. Besides these, a thousand little knacks, and rarities in Nature, and some of art; as their baskets, weapons, aprons, etc. We dealt with them with beads of all colours, knives, axes, pins and needles; which they used only as tools to drill holes with in their ears, noses and lips, where they hang a great many little things; as long beads, bits of tin, brass, or silver, beat thin; and any shining trinket. The beads they weave into aprons about a quarter of an ell8 long, and of the same breadth; working them very prettily in flowers of several colours of beads; which apron they wear just before them, as Adam and Eve did the fig leaves; the men wearing a long strip of linen, which they deal with us for. They thread these beads also on long cotton threads, and make girdles to tie their aprons to, which come twenty times, or more, about the waist; and then cross, like a shoulder-belt, both ways, and round their necks, arms and legs. This adornment, with their long black hair, and the face painted in little specks or flowers here and there, makes them a wonderful figure to behold. Some of the beauties which indeed are finely shaped, as almost all are, and who have pretty features, are very charming and novel; for they have all that is called beauty, except the colour, which is a reddish yellow; or after a new oiling, which they often use to themselves, they are of the colour of a new brick, but smooth, soft and sleek. They are extreme modest and bashful, very shy, and nice9 of being touched.