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spear guarded the mutilated corse; but overpowered by multitudes of the foe, she was made captive, and presented to the conqueror.

Acciolinus ordered his prisoner to be magnificently lodged and attended. Neither fatigue nor sorrow had impaired the lustre of her beauty. The victor was penetrated and subdued by irresistible shafts of love; and he employed every insinuating art to win her favour. She disdained his passion; spurned his homage; upbraided him as the tyrant of her country, the murderer of her fellow-citizens, the destroyer of her husband. He still listened with patience, lavished indulgences and adulation upon his lovely censurer, hoping time might exhaust her indignation, and dispose her to gratitude and love. At length, inflamed by growing admiration of her attractions, and irritated by her reproaches, he ordered her to a high apartment, whither he soon followed, to attempt the vilest abuse that man can make of his superior strength. Blanca had dreaded this extremity, and prepared for it by opening a window before the tyrant appeared. Disengaging herself from his hands, and springing to the window, she threw herself over the lofty wall. Though much bruised, she recovered; and her execrable oppressor finding her still deaf to his solicitations, commanded his slaves to bind her—she was left by them a defenceless prey to his violence. She scorned to give him