_La Môntre: or, The Lover’s Watch_, ‘Licensed 2 Aug. 1686. R.L.S.’ is taken by Mrs. Behn from _La Môntre_ of Balthazar de Bonnecorse. After having received an excellent education at Marseilles, where he was born, de Bonnecorse was appointed consul at Cairo, and later transferred to Sidon in the Levant. Whilst at Cairo he composed _La Môntre_, a mixture of prose and verse, which he sent to the great arbiter of Parisian taste, Georges de Scudéri, under whose care it was printed in 1666 at Paris. It was followed in 1671 by the second part, _la Boëte et le Miroir_, dedicated to the Duke de Vivonne. Upon his return to France, de Bonnecorse abridged _La Môntre_ and put it wholly into verse, in which form it appears in his collected (yet incomplete) works, ‘Chez Theodore Haak.’ Leyden, 1720. Bonnecorse died at Marseilles in 1706. He is always piquant and graceful in his madrigals and songs, though both sentiment and verse have faded a little with the passing of time. Boileau immortalized him in _Le Lutrin: la Môntre_ is one of the missiles the enraged canons hurl at each other’s reverend pates: ‘L’un prend _l’.dit d’amour_, l’autre en saisit _la Môntre_.’ Bonnecorse’s attempted parody on _Le Lutrin, le Lutrigot_ (Marseille, 1686), is of no value, and brought a caustic epigram down on his head. To Peter Weston, Esq.; Of The Honourable Society Of The Inner-Temple. Sir, When I had ended this little unlaboured Piece, the _Watch_, I resolv’d to dedicate it to some One, whom I cou’d fancy, the nearest approacht the charming _Damon_. Many fine Gentlemen I had in view, of Wit and Beauty; but still, through their Education, or a natural Propensity to Debauchery, I found those Vertues wanting, that should compleat that delicate Character, _Iris_ gives her Lover; and which, at first Thought of You, I found center’d there to Perfection. Yes, Sir, I found You had all the Youth of _Damon_; without the forward noisy Confidence, which usually attends your Sex. You have all the attracting Beauty of my young Hero; all that can charm the Fair; without the Affectation of those, that set out for Conquests (though You make a Thousand, without knowing it, or the Vanity of believing it.) You have our _Damon’s_ Wit with all his agreeable Modesty: Two Vertues that rarely shine together: And the last makes You conceal the noble Sallies of the first, with that Industry and Care, You wou’d an Amour: And You wou’d no more boast of either of these, than of your undoubted Bravery.