and Constantia, there broke out an irreparable Quarrel between their Parents, the one valuing himself too much upon his Birth, and the other upon his Possessions.  The Father of Constantia was so incensed at the Father of Theodosius, that he contracted an unreasonable Aversion towards his Son, insomuch that he forbad him his House, and charged his Daughter upon her Duty never to see him more.  In the mean time to break off all Communication between the two Lovers, who he knew entertained secret Hopes of some favourable Opportunity that should bring them together, he found out a young Gentleman of a good Fortune and an agreeable Person, whom he pitched upon as a Husband for his Daughter.  He soon concerted this Affair so well, that he told Constantia it was his Design to marry her to such a Gentleman, and that her Wedding should be celebrated on such a Day. Constantia, who was over-awed with the Authority of her Father, and unable to object anything against so advantageous a Match, received the Proposal with a profound Silence, which her Father commended in her, as the most decent manner of a Virgin’s giving her Consent to an Overture of that Kind:  The Noise of this intended Marriage soon reached Theodosius, who, after a long Tumult of Passions which naturally rise in a Lover’s Heart on such an Occasion, writ the following letter to Constantia.

’The Thought of my Constantia, which for some years has been my only Happiness, is now become a greater Torment to me than I am able to bear.  Must I then live to see you another’s?  The Streams, the Fields and Meadows, where we have so often talked together, grow painful to me; Life it self is become a Burden.  May you long be happy in the World, but forget that there was ever such a Man in it as THEODOSIUS.’

This Letter was conveyed to Constantia that very Evening, who fainted at the Reading of it; and the next Morning she was much more alarmed by two or three Messengers, that came to her Father’s House one after another to inquire if they had heard any thing of Theodosius, who it seems had left his Chamber about Midnight, and could nowhere be found.  The deep Melancholy, which had hung upon his Mind some Time before, made them apprehend the worst that could befall him. Constantia, who knew that nothing but the Report of her Marriage could have driven him to such Extremities, was not to be comforted:  She now accused her self for having so tamely given an Ear to the Proposal of a Husband, and looked upon the new Lover as the Murderer of Theodosius: In short, she resolved to suffer the utmost Effects of her Father’s Displeasure, rather than comply with a Marriage which appeared to her so full of Guilt and Horror.  The Father seeing himself entirely rid of Theodosius, and likely to keep a considerable Portion in his Family, was not very much concerned at the obstinate Refusal of his Daughter; and did