Don Pedro had been about three Months absent, when Alvaro undertook what the King counselled him to; tho’ the Moderation was known to him, yet he feared his Presence, and would not attend the return of a Rival, with whom he would avoid all Disputes.
One Night, when the said Agnes, full of her ordinary Inquietudes, in vain expected the God of Sleep, she heard a Noise, and after saw some Men unknown enter her Chamber, whose Measures being well consulted, they carried her out of the Palace, and putting her in a close Coach, forced her out of Coimbra, without being hinder’d by any Obstacle. She knew not of whom to complain, nor whom to suspect: Don Alvaro seem’d too puissant to seek his Satisfaction this way; and she accus’d not the Prince of this attempt, of whom she had so favourable an Opinion: whatever she could think or say, she could not hinder her ill Fortune: They hurried her on with diligence, and before it was Day, were a considerable way off from the Town.
As soon as Day began to break, she surveyed those that encompassed her, without so much as knowing one of them; and seeing that her Cries and Prayers were all in vain with these deaf Ravishers, she satisfied her self with imploring the Protection of Heaven, and abandon’d herself to its Conduct.
While she sat thus overwhelmed with Grief, uncertain of her Destiny, she saw a Body of Horse advance towards the Troop which conducted her: the Ravishers did not shun them, thinking it to be Don Alvaro: but when he approached more near, they found it was the Prince of Portugal who was at the head of ’em, and who, without foreseeing the occasion that would offer it self of serving Agnes, was returning to Coimbra full of her Idea, after having performed what he ought in this Expedition.
Agnes, who did not expect him, changed now her Opinion, and thought that it was the Prince that had caused her to be stolen away. ‘Oh, Sir! (said she to him, having still the same Thought) is it you that have torn me from the Princess? And could so cruel a Blow come from a Hand that is so dear to her? What will you do with an unfortunate Creature, who desires nothing but Death? And why will you obscure the Glory of your Life, by an Artifice unworthy of you?’ This Language astonish’d the Prince no less than the sight of Agnes had done; he found by what she had said, that she was taken away by force; and immediately passing to the height of Rage, he made her understand by one only Look, that he was not the base Author of her trouble. ‘I tear you from Constantia, whose only Pleasure you are! replied he: What Opinion have you of Don Pedro? No, Madam, tho’ you see me here, I am altogether innocent of the Violence that has been done you; and there is nothing I will refuse to hinder it.’ He then turned himself to behold the Ravishers, but his Presence had already scatter’d ’em, he order’d some of his Men to pursue ’em, and to seize some of ’em, that he might know what Authority it was that set ’em at work.
During this, Agnes was no less confus’d than before; she admir’d the Conduct of her Destiny, that brought the Prince at a time when he was so necessary to her. Her Inclinations to do him justice, soon repair’d the Offence her Suspicions had caus’d; she was glad to have escap’d a Misfortune, which appear’d certain to her: but this was not a sincere Joy, when she consider’d that her Lover was her Deliverer, and a Lover worthy of all her Acknowledgments, but who owed his Heart to the most amiable Princess in the World.
While the Prince’s Men were pursuing the Ravishers of Agnes, he was left almost alone with her; and tho’ he had always resolv’d to shun being so, yet his Constancy was not proof against so fair an Occasion: ‘Madam, said he to her, is it possible that Men born amongst those that obey us, should be capable of offending you? I never thought my self destin’d to revenge such an Offence; but since Heaven has permitted you to receive it, I will either perish or make them repent it.’ ‘Sir, replied Agnes, more concern’d at this Discourse than at the Enterprize of Don Alvaro, those who are wanting in their respect to the Princess and you, are not obliged to have any for me. I do not in the least doubt that Don Alvaro was the undertaker of this Enterprize; and I judged what I ought to fear from him, by what his Importunities have already made me suffer. He is sure of the King’s Protection, and he will make him an Accomplice in his Crime: but, Sir, Heaven conducted you hither happily for me, and I am indebted to you for the liberty I have of serving the Princess yet longer.’ ‘You will do for Constantia, replied the Prince, what ’tis impossible not to do for you; your Goodness attaches you to her, and my Destiny engages me to you for ever.’
The modest Agnes, who fear’d this Discourse as much as the Misfortune she had newly shunned, answer’d nothing but by down-cast Eyes; and the Prince, who knew the trouble she was in, left her to go to speak to his Men, who brought back one of those that belong’d to Don Alvaro, by whose Confession he found the truth: He pardon’d him, thinking not fit to punish him, who obey’d a Man whom the Weakness of his Father had render’d powerful.
Afterwards they conducted Agnes back to Coimbra, where her Adventure began to make a great Noise: the Princess was ready to die with Despair, and at first thought it was only a continuation of the design this fair Maid had of retiring; but some Women that served her having told the Princess, that she was carried away by Violence, Constantia made her Complaint to the King, who regarded her not at all.
‘Madam, said he to her, let this fatal Plague remove it self, who takes from you the Heart of your Husband; and without afflicting your self for her absence, bless Heaven and me for it.’
The generous Princess took Agnes’s part with a great deal of Courage, and was then disputing her defence with the King, when Don Pedro arrived at Coimbra.
The first Object that met the Prince’s Eyes was Don Alvaro, who was passing thro’ one of the Courts of the Palace, amidst a Croud of Courtiers, whom his Favour with the King drew after him. This sight made Don Pedro rage; but that of the Princess and Agnes caus’d in Alvaro another sort of Emotion: He easily divin’d, that it was Don Pedro, who had taken her from his Men, and, if his Fury had acted what it would, it might have produc’d very sad effects.
‘Don Alvaro, said the Prince to him, is it thus you make use of the Authority which the King my Father hath given you? Have you receiv’d Employments and Power from him, for no other end but to do these base Actions, and to commit Rapes on Ladies? Are you ignorant how the Princess interests her self in all that concerns this Maid? And do you not know the tender and affectionate Esteem she has for her.’ No, replied Don Alvaro, (with an Insolence that had like to have put the Prince past all patience) ‘I am not ignorant of it, nor of the Interest your Heart takes in her.’ ‘Base and treacherous as thou art, replied the Prince, neither the Favour which thou hast so much abused, nor the Insolence which makes thee speak this, should hinder me from punishing thee, wert thou worthy of my Sword; but there are other ways to humble thy Pride, and ’tis not fit for such an Arm as mine to seek so base an Employment to punish such a Slave as thou art.’
Don Pedro went away at these Words, and left Alvaro in a Rage, which is not to be express’d; despairing to see himself defeated in an Enterprize he thought so sure; and at the Contempt the Prince shewed him, he promis’d himself to sacrifice all to his Revenge.
Tho’ the King lov’d his Son, he was so prepossessed against his Passion, that he could not pardon him what he had done, and condemn’d him as much for this last act of Justice, in delivering Agnes, as if it had been the greatest of Crimes.
Elvira, whom the sweetness of Hope flatter’d some moments, saw the return of Agnes with a sensible Displeasure, which suffer’d her to think of nothing but irritating her Brother.
In fine, the Prince saw the King, but instead of being receiv’d by him with a Joy due to the success of his Journey, he appear’d all sullen and out of humour. After having paid him his first Respects, and given him an exact account of what he had done, he spoke to him about the Violence committed against the Person of Agnes de Castro, and complain’d to him of it in the Name of the Princess, and of his own: ‘You ought to be silent in this Affair, replied the King; and the Motive which makes you speak is so shameful for you, that I sigh and blush at it. What is it to you, if this Maid, whose Presence is troublesome to me, be removed hence, since ’tis I that desire it?’ ‘But, Sir, interrupted the Prince, what necessity is there of employing Force, Artifice, and the Night, when the least of your Orders had been sufficient? Agnes would willingly have obey’d you; and if she continue at Coimbra, it is perhaps against her Will: but be it as it will, Sir, Constantia is offended, and if were not for fear of displeasing you, (the only thing that retains me) the Ravisher should not have gone unpunished.’ ‘How happy are you, replied the King, smiling with disdain, in making use of the Name of Constantia to uphold the Interest of your Heart! You think I am ignorant of it, and that this unhappy Princess looks on the Injury you do her with Indifference. Never speak to me more of Agnes, (with a Tone very severe.) Content your self, that I pardon what’s past, and think maturely of the Considerations I have for Don Alvaro, when you would design any thing against him.’ ‘Yes, Sir, replied the Prince with fierceness, I will speak to you no more of Agnes; but Constantia and I will never suffer, that she should be any more expos’d to the Insolence of your Favourite.’ The King had like to have broke out into a Rage at this Discourse: but he had yet a rest of Prudence left that hinder’d him. ‘Retire (said he to Don Pedro) and go make Reflections on what my Power can do, and what you owe me.’
During this Conversation, Agnes was receiving from the Princess, and from all the Ladies of the Court, great Expressions of Joy and Friendship: Constantia saw again her Husband, with a great deal of satisfaction: and far from being sorry at what he had lately done for Agnes, she privately return’d him thanks for it, and still was the same towards him, notwithstanding all the Jealousy which was endeavour’d to be inspir’d in her.
Don Alvaro, who found in his Sister a Maliciousness worthy of his trust, did not conceal his Fury from her. After she had made vain attempts to moderate it, in blotting Agnes out of his Heart, seeing that his Disease was incurable, she made him understand, that so long as Constantia should not be jealous, there were no hopes: That if Agnes should once be suspected by her, she would not fail of abandoning her, and that then it would be easy to get Satisfaction, the Prince being now so proud of Constantia’s Indulgency. In giving this Advice to her Brother, she promis’d to serve him effectually; and having no need of any body but her self to perform ill things, she recommended Don Alvaro to manage well the King.
Four Years were pass’d in that melancholy Station, and the Princess, besides her first dead Child, and Ferdinando, who was still living, had brought two Daughters into the World.
Some days after Don Pedro’s return, Elvira, who was most dextrous in the Art of well-governing any wicked Design, did gain one of the Servants who belong’d to Constantia’s Chamber. She first spoke her fair, then overwhelm’d her with Presents and Gifts; and finding in her as ill a Disposition as in her self, she readily resolv’d to employ her.
After she was sure of her, she compos’d a Letter, which was after writ over again in an unknown Hand, which she deposited in that Maid’s Hands, that she might deliver to Constantia with the first Opportunity, telling her, that Agnes had drop’d it. This was the Substance of it:
I Employ not my own Hand to write to you, for Reasons that I shall acquaint you with. How happy am I to have overcome all your Scruples! And what Happiness shall I find in the Progress of our Intrigue! The whole Course of my Life shall continually represent to you the Sincerity of my Affections; pray think on the secret Conversation that I require of you: I dare not speak to you in publick, therefore let me conjure you here, by all that I have suffer’d, to come to-night to the Place appointed, and speak to me no more of Constantia; for she must be content with my Esteem, since my Heart can be only yours.
The unfaithful Portuguese serv’d Elvira exactly to her Desires; and the very next day seeing Agnes go out from the Princess, she carry’d Constantia the Letter; which she took, and found there what she was far from imagining: Tenderness never produc’d an Effect more full of grief, than what it made her suffer. ‘Alas! they are both culpable, (said she, sighing) and in spite of the Defence my Heart would make for ’em, my Reason condemns ’em. Unhappy Princess, the sad subject of the Capriciousness of Fortune! Why dost not thou die, since thou hast not a Heart of Honour to revenge it self? O Don Pedro! why did you give me your Hand, without your Heart? And thou, fair, and ungrateful! wert thou born to be the Misfortune of my Life, and perhaps the only cause of my Death?’ After having given some Moments to the Violence of her Grief, she called the Maid, who brought her the Letter, commanding her to speak of it to no body, and to suffer no one to enter into her Chamber.
She consider’d then of that Prince with more liberty, whose Soul she was not able to touch with the least Tenderness; and of the cruel Fair One that had betray’d her: Yet, even while her Soul was upon the Rack, she was willing to excuse ’em, and ready to do all she could for Don Pedro; at least, she made a firm Resolution, not to complain of him.
Elvira was not long without being inform’d of what had pass’d, nor of the Melancholy of the Princess, from whom she hop’d all she desir’d.
Agnes, far from foreseeing this Tempest, return’d to Constantia; and hearing of her Indisposition, pass’d the rest of the Day at her Chamber-door, that she might from time to time learn news of her Health: for she was not suffer’d to come in, at which Agnes was both surpriz’d and troubled. The Prince had the same Destiny, and was astonish’d at an Order which ought to have excepted him.
The next day Constantia appear’d, but so alter’d, that ’twas not difficult to imagine what she had suffer’d. Agnes was the most impatient to approach her, and the Princess could not forbear weeping, They were both silent for some time, and Constantia attributed this silence of Agnes to some Remorse which she felt: and this unhappy Maid being able to hold no longer; ‘Is it possible, Madam, (said she) that two Days should have taken from me all the Goodness you had for me? What have I done? And for what do you punish me?’ The Princess regarded her with a languishing Look, and return’d her no Answer but Sighs. Agnes, offended with this reserve, went out with very great Dissatisfaction and Anger; which contributed to her being thought criminal. The Prince came in immediately after, and found Constantia more disorder’d than usual, and conjur’d her in a most obliging manner to take care of her Health: The greatest good for me (said she) is not the Continuation of my Life; I should have more care of it if I loved you less: but — She could not proceed; and the Prince, excessively afflicted at her trouble, sigh’d sadly, without making her any answer, which redoubled her Grief. Spite then began to mix it self; and all things persuading the Princess that they made a Sacrifice of her, she would enter into no Explanation with her Husband, but suffered him to go away without saying any thing to him.
Nothing is more capable of troubling our Reason, and consuming our Health, than secret Notions of Jealousy in Solitude.
Constantia, who us’d to open her Heart freely to Agnes, now believing she had deceiv’d her, abandon’d her self so absolutely to Grief, that she was ready to sink under it; she immediately fell sick with the violence of it, and all the Court was concern’d at this Misfortune: Don Pedro was truly afflicted at it, but Agnes more than all the World beside. Constantia’s Coldness towards her, made her continually sigh; and her Distemper created merely by fancy, caus’d her to reflect on every thing that offer’d it self to her Memory: so that at last she began even to fear her self, and to reproach her self for what the Princess suffer’d.
But the Distemper began to be such, that they fear’d Constantia’s Death, and she her self began to feel the Approaches of it. This Thought did not at all disquiet her: she look’d on Death as the only relief from all her Torments; and regarded the Despair of all that approach’d her without the least concern.
The King, who lov’d her tenderly, and who knew her Virtue, was infinitely mov’d at the Extremity she was in. And Don Alvaro, who lost not the least Occasion of making him understand that it was Jealousy which was the cause of Constantia’s Distemper, did but too much incense him against Criminals, worthy of Compassion. The King was not of a Temper to conceal his Anger long: ‘You give fine Examples, (said he to the Prince) and such as will render your Memory illustrious! The Death of Constantia (of which you are only to be accus’d) is the unhappy Fruit of your guilty Passion. Fear Heaven after this: and behold your self as a Monster that does not deserve to see the Light. If the Interest you have in my Blood did not plead for you, what ought you not to fear from my just Resentment? But what must not imprudent Agnes, to whom nothing ties me, expect from my hands? If Constantia dies, she, who has the Boldness, in my Court, to cherish a foolish Flame by vain Hopes, and make us lose the most amiable Princess, whom thou art not worthy to possess, shall feel the Effects of her Indiscretion.’
Don Pedro knew very well, that Constantia was not ignorant of his Sentiments for Agnes; but he knew also with what Moderation she receiv’d it: He was very sensible of the King’s Reproaches; but as his Fault was not voluntary, and that a commanding Power, a fatal Star, had forc’d him to love in spite of himself, he appear’d afflicted and confus’d: ‘You condemn me, Sir, (answer’d he) without having well examin’d me; and if my Intentions were known to you; perhaps you would not find me so criminal: I would take the Princess for my Judge, whom you say I sacrifice, if she were in a condition to be consulted. If I am guilty of any Weakness, her Justice never reproach’d me for it; and my Tongue never inform’d Agnes of it. But suppose I have committed any Fault, why would you punish an innocent Lady, who perhaps condemns me for it as much as you? Ah, Villain! (interrupted the King) she has but too much favour’d you: You would not have lov’d thus long, had she not made you some Returns. Sir, (reply’d the Prince, pierced with Grief for the Outrage that was committed against Agnes) you offend a Virtue, than which nothing can be purer; and those Expressions which break from your Choler, are not worthy of you. Agnes never granted me any Favours; I never asked any of her; and I protest to Heaven, I never thought of any thing contrary to the Duty I owe Constantia.’
As they thus argued, one of the Princess’s Women came all in Tears to acquaint Don Pedro, that the Princess was in the last Extremities of Life: ‘Go see thy fatal Work, (said the King) and expect from a too-long patient Father the Usage thou deservest.’
The Prince ran to Constantia, whom he found dying, and Agnes in a swoon, in the Arms of some of the Ladies. What caus’d this double Calamity, was, that Agnes, who could suffer no longer the Indifferency of the Princess, had conjur’d her to tell her what was her Crime, and either to take her Life from her, or restore her to her Friendship.
Constantia, who found she must die, could no longer keep her secret Affliction from Agnes; and after some Words, which were a Preparation to the sad Explanation, she shewed her that fatal Billet, which Elvira had caus’d to be written: ‘Ah, Madam! (cry’d out the fair Agnes, after having read it) Ah, Madam! how many cruel Inquietudes had you spared me had you open’d your Heart to me with your wonted Bounty! ’Tis easy to see that this Letter is counterfeit, and that I have Enemies without Compassion. Could you believe the Prince so imprudent, to make use of any other Hand but his own, on an occasion like this? And do you believe me so simple to keep about me this Testimony of my Shame, with so little Precaution? You are neither betray’d by your Husband nor me; I attest Heaven, and those Efforts I have made to leave Coimbra. Alas, my dear Princess, how little have you known her, whom you have so much honoured? Do not believe that when I have justify’d my self, I will have any more Communication with the World: No, no; there will be no Retreat far enough from hence for me. I will take care to hide this unlucky Face, where it shall be sure to do no more harm.’
The Princess touched at this Discourse, and the Tears of Agnes, press’d her hand, which she held in hers; and fixing Looks upon her capable of moving Pity in the most insensible Souls, ‘If I have committed any Offence, my dear Agnes, (answer’d she) Death, which I expect in a moment, shall revenge it. I ought also to protest to you, That I have not ceas’d loving you, and that I believe every thing you have said, giving you back my most tender Affections.’
’Twas at this time that the Grief, which equally oppress’d ’em, put the Princess into such an Extremity, that they sent for the Prince. He came, and found himself almost without Life or Motion at this sight. And what secret Motive soever might call him to the aid of Agnes, ’twas to Constantia he ran. The Princess, who finding her last Moments drawing on, by a cold Sweat that cover’d her all over; and finding she had no more business with Life, and causing those Persons she most suspected to retire, ‘Sir, (said she to Don Pedro) if I abandon Life without regret, it is not without Trouble that I part with you. But, Prince, we must vanquish when we come to die; and I will forget my self wholly, to think of nothing but of you. I have no Reproaches to make against you, knowing that ’tis Inclination that disposes Hearts, and not Reason. Agnes is beautiful enough to inspire the most ardent Passion, and virtuous enough to deserve the first Fortunes in the World. I ask her, once more, pardon for the Injustice I have done her, and recommend her to you, as a Person most dear to me. Promise me, my dear Prince, before I expire, to give her my Place in your Throne: it cannot be better fill’d: you cannot chuse a Princess more perfect for your People, nor a better Mother for our little Children. And you my dear and faithful Agnes (pursu’d she) listen not to a Virtue too scrupulous, that may make any opposition to the Prince of Portugal: Refuse him not a Heart of which he is worthy; and give him that Friendship which you had for me, with that which is due to his Merit. Take care of my little Fernando, and the two young Princesses: let them find me in you, and speak to them sometimes of me. Adieu, live both of you happy, and receive my last Embraces.’
The afflicted Agnes, who had recover’d a little her Forces, lost them again a second time; Her Weakness was follow’d with Convulsions so vehement, that they were afraid of her Life; but Don Pedro never removed from Constantia: ‘What, Madam (said he) you will leave me then; and you think ’tis for my Good. Alas, Constantia! if my Heart has committed an Outrage against you, your Virtue has sufficiently revenged you on me in spite of you. Can you think me so barbarous?’ – As he was going on, he saw Death shut the Eyes of the most generous Princess for ever; and he was within a very little of following her.
But what Loads of Grief did this bring upon Agnes, when she found in that Interval, wherein Life and Death were struggling in her Soul, that Constantia was newly expir’d! She would then have taken away her own Life, and have let her Despair fully appear.
At the noise of the Death of the Princess, the Town and the Palace were all in Tears. Elvira, who saw then Don Pedro free to engage himself, repented of having contributed to the Death of Constantia; and thinking her self the Cause of it, promis’d in her Griefs never to pardon herself.
She had need of being guarded several days together; during which time she fail’d not incessantly to weep. And the Prince gave all those days to deepest Mourning. But when the first Emotions were past, those of his Love made him feel that he was still the same.
He was a long time without seeing Agnes; but this Absence of his served only to make her appear the more charming when he did see her.
Don Alvaro, who was afraid of the Liberty of the Prince, made new Efforts to move Agnes de Castro, who was now become insensible to every thing but Grief. Elvira, who was willing to make the best of the Design she had begun, consulted all her Womens Arts, and the Delicacy of her Wit, to revive the Flames with which the Prince once burnt for her: But his Constancy was bounded, and it was Agnes alone that was to reign over his Heart. She had taken a firm Resolution, since the Death of Constantia, to pass the rest of her Days in a solitary Retreat. In spite of the precaution she took to hide this Design, the Prince was informed of it, and did all he was able to dispose his Constancy and Fortitude to it. He thought himself stronger than he really was; but after he had well consulted his Heart, he found but too well how necessary the Presence of Agnes was to him. ‘Madam (said he to her one day, with a Heart big, and his Eyes in Tears) which Action of my Life has made you determine my Death? Tho’ I never told you how much I loved you, yet I am persuaded you are not ignorant of it. I was constrained to be silent during some Years for your sake, for Constantia’s, and my own; but ’tis not possible for me to put this force upon my Heart for ever: I must once at least tell you how it languishes. Receive then the Assurances of a Passion, full of Respect and Ardour, with an offer of my Fortune, which I wish not better, but for your advantage.’
Agnes answer’d not immediately to these words, but with abundance of Tears; which having wiped away, and beholding Don Pedro with an air which made him easily comprehend she did not agree with his Desires; ‘If I were capable of the Weakness with which you’d inspire me, you’d be obliged to punish me for it: What! (said she) Constantia is scarce bury’d, and you would have me offend her! No, my Prince (added she with more Softness) no, no, she whom you have heap’d so many Favours on, will not call down the Anger of Heaven, and the Contempt of Men upon her, by an Action so perfidious. Be not obstinate then in a Design in which I will never shew you Favour. You owe to Constantia, after her Death, a Fidelity that may justify you: and I, to repair the Ills I have made her suffer ought to shun all converse with you.’ ‘Go, Madam (reply’d the Prince, growing pale) go, and expect the News of my Death; in that part of the World, whither your Cruelty shall lead you, the News shall follow close after; you shall quickly hear of it: and I will go seek it in those Wars which reign among my Neighbours.’
These Words made the fair Agnes de Castro perceive that her Innocency was not so great as she imagined, and that her Heart interested it self in the Preservation of Don Pedro: ‘You ought, Sir, to preserve your Life (reply’d Agnes) for the sake of the little Prince and Princesses, which Constantia has left you. Would you abandon their Youth (continued she, with a tender Tone) to the Cruelty of Don Alvaro? Live! Sir, live! and let the unhappy Agnes be the only Sacrifice.’ ‘Alas, cruel Maid! (interrupted Don Pedro) Why do you command me to live, if I cannot live with you? Is it an effect of your Hatred?’ ‘No, Sir, (reply’d Agnes) I do not hate you; and I wish to God that I could be able to defend my self against the Weakness with which I find my self possess’d. Oblige me to say no more, Sir: you see my Blushes, interpret them as you please: but consider yet, that the less Aversion I find I have to you, the more culpable I am; and that I ought no more to see, or speak to you. In fine, Sir, if you oppose my Retreat, I declare to you, that Don Alvaro, as odious as he is to me, shall serve for a Defence against you; and that I will sooner consent to marry a Man I abhor, than to favour a Passion that cost Constantia her Life.’ ‘Well then, Agnes (reply’d the Prince, with Looks all languishing and dying) follow the Motions which barbarous Virtue inspires you with; take these Measures you judge necessary against an unfortunate Lover, and enjoy the Glory of having cruelly refused me.’
At these Words he went away; and troubled as Agnes was, she would not stay him: Her Courage combated with her Grief, and she thought now, more than ever, of departing.
’Twas difficult for her to go out of Coimbra; and not to defer what appear’d to her so necessary, she went immediately to the Apartment of the King, notwithstanding the Interest of Don Alvaro. The King received her with a Countenance severe, not being able to consent to what she demanded: You shall not go hence, (said he) and if you are wise, you shall enjoy here with Don Alvaro both my Friendship and my Favour. I have taken another Resolution (answer’d Agnes) and the World has no part in it. You will accept Don Pedro (reply’d the King) his Fortune is sufficient to satisfy an ambitious Maid: but you will not succeed Constantia, who lov’d you so tenderly; and Spain has Princesses enough to fill up part of the Throne which I shall leave him. Sir, (reply’d Agnes, piqu’d at this Discourse) if I had a Disposition to love, and a Design to marry, perhaps the Prince might be the only Person on whom I would fix it: And you know, if my Ancestors did not possess Crowns, yet they were worthy to wear ’em. But let it be how it will, I am resolved to depart, and to remain no longer a Slave in a Place to which I came free.