a slight wound. She
offers to make him groom of her chamber, but fearful of being
recognized, he declines. Finally she lays her fortune at his feet, but
he has too much generosity to accept the offer. Leaving a letter
revealing his true rank and his poverty, he sails for Persia. Some time
later, the return of Placentia's long lost brother, by depriving her of
her fortune, puts her on a level with her lover.
Philidore is captured by pirates and with eleven others set on shore on
a desert strand. Three of the little company reach civilization. After
recuperating their strength, they set out for Persia overland, but a
tiger deprives Philidore of his two companions. A little later he
rescues an unknown youth from three assailants, but not before the
stranger has been seriously wounded. A passing traveller carries them to
the castle of a Persian nobleman. There Philidore waits with the utmost
impatience for the wounded man to recover strength enough to relate his
story, but this, as also the misfortunes, perplexities, and dangers to
which the despairing passion of the enamoured Placentia occasioned her
to reduce herself, and the catastrophe of Philidore's surprising fate,
must be told in a Second Part.
Part II. The youthful stranger, concealing his name and family, relates
the sad effects of his love for the favorite wife of the Bashaw of
Liperto, and how by her aid he was enabled to escape from slavery, only
to be pursued and about to be retaken by janizaries when rescued by
Philidore.
Our hero is kindly received by his uncle in Persia, who soon dies and
leaves him sole heir of an enormous fortune. He is now Placentia's equal
in wealth as well as rank, and immediately embarks for England. Driven
into Baravat by contrary winds, he is moved to ransom a female captive
on hearing of her grief at her hard fate, but what is his surprise when
the fair slave proves to be Placentia. "Kisses, embraces, and all the
fond endearments of rewarded passion made up for their want of speech--
in their expressive looks, and eager graspings, the violence of their
mutual flame was more plainly demonstrated, than it could have been by
the greatest elegance of language--those of the Persians that stood by,
who understood not English, easily perceived, not only that they were
lovers, but also that they were so to the most unbounded height of
tender passion."
Placentia relates how she had eluded her brother and set sail to rejoin
her love
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