de Castro_ with all her Charms; and not at all
doubting, but it was she who possest the Heart of _Don Pedro_, she found
in her Soul more Hatred for this fair Rival, than Tenderness for him.

The Grotto was not a fit Place to make Reflections in, or to form
Designs. Perhaps her first Transports would have made her waken him, if
she had not perceived a Paper lying under his Hand, which she softly
seiz'd on; and that she might not be surprized in the reading it, she
went out of the Garden with as much haste as confusion.

When she was retired to her Apartment, she open'd the Paper, trembling,
and found in it these Verses, writ by the Hand of _Don Pedro_; and
which, in appearance, he had newly then compos'd.

_In vain, Oh! Sacred Honour, you debate
The mighty Business in my Heart:
Love! Charming Love! rules all my Fate;
Interest and Glory claim no part.
The God, sure of his Victory, triumphs there,
And will have nothing in his Empire share._

_In vain, Oh! Sacred Duty, you oppose;
In vain, your Nuptial Tye you plead:
Those forc'd Devoirs LOVE overthrows,
And breaks the Vows he never made.
Fixing his fatal Arrows every where,
I burn and languish in a soft Despair._

_Fair Princess, you to whom my Faith is due;
Pardon the Destiny that drags me on:
'Tis not my fault my Heart's untrue,
I am compell'd to be undone.
My Life is yours, I gave it with my Hand,
But my Fidelity I can't command._

_Elvira_ did not only know the Writing of _Don Pedro_, but she knew also
that he could write Verses. And seeing the sad Part which _Constantia_
had in these which were now fallen into her hands, she made no scruple
of resolving to let the Princess see 'em: but that she might not be
suspected, she took care not to appear in this Business her self; and
since it was not enough for _Constantia_ to know that the Prince did not
love her, but that she must know also that he was a Slave to _Agnes de
Castro_, _Elvira_ caused these few Verses to be written in an unknown
Hand, under those writ by the Prince.

_Sleep betrayed th' unhappy Lover,
While Tears were streaming from his Eyes;
His heedless Tongue without disguise,
The Secret did discover:
The Language of his Heart declare,
That +Agnes'+ Image triumphs there._

_Elvira_ regarded neither Exactness nor Grace in these Lines: And if
they had but the effect she design'd, she wished no more.

Her Impatience could not wai