_Theodora_ receiv'd this moving Letter with a Concern proportion'd to the melancholly Occasion; she communicated it to an intimate Acquaintance, who likewise express'd the utmost Uneasiness; the thoughts of the Catastrophe of the Loves of _Theodora_ and _Leander_ presented a lively Idea to _Theodora's_ Companion, of the Miseries and Misfortunes attending Mankind. "Hard is the Case (says she) that _Leander_, one of the finest young Gentlemen of _Naples_, should be sacrific'd to a mercenary Wretch, a Wretch, that in the midst of plenty is poor and miserable, and who, tho' he has all Things to compleat his Happiness, his avaricious Temper will not permit him to enjoy the common Necessaries of Life: The Pleasures of living he's a Stranger to, he lives despis'd, and will die unpitied: But such is the inequality of Fortune's Favours, that Merit must stoop and Ideots be advanc'd to the highest Pomp and Magnificence. It is entirely out of your Power to give the pitied _Leander_ the least Relief; your Father's House is a Nunnery, he has his Locks and Keys to secure you, and his Spies for Intelligence; but I advise you to send the unfortunate Youth an Answer to his mournful Epistle." Upon this, _Theodora_ immediately call'd for Pen, Ink and Paper, and wrote the following Answer. To the unfortunate LEANDER. _I am sorry that you had the Misfortune ever to see me, and the more for that in vain I seek your Relief; it is not in my Power to forward either your Happiness or my own, which I confess I should think compleat, if my mercenary Father would consent to my Espousals; but it is so far from this, that I am to see for the future, so that the Lilly you admire now droops its Head, and the whole Vale's enclouded at my sorrowful Fate; I would willingly accompany the Briar to the Mountains. Impute not to me your approaching Calamities, which only increase with _Theodora'_s. Think me no longer handsome, who have so many Imperfections to sully those Trifles you call Beauties; No, range me with Deformity, since other Ideas may increase your Pain. I desire you to forget me, of I am oblig'd to endeavour not to remember you._ Your most disconsolate Lover, THEODORA. Upon receipt of this Letter, _Leander_ quitted _Ferara_ with a Grief inexpressible, but however had Resolution to finish his Journey to the Place of his Nativity without self Violence, but soon after, resign'd a miserable life.