Cavalier Gio. Francesco Biondi HIS DONZELLA DESTERRADA. THE FIRST BOOKE.

THE obscuresable night, leaving behind her the shady twilight to make good the reare against the hot approach of the fire-breathing Sunne, surrendred up the field unto a gloomy morning; when the Marriners discovering land, changed the feare of their continuing wrack-threatning fortune, into another farre greater both in esteeme and effect. The shippe through her long working and continuall repercussions was all over riven and quite spoild, so as the ordi­nary instruments sufficed not to empty the water, which gushing in through the chinkes of her sides above, and leakes sprung about her keele beneath, still more and more overcharged the Pumpe.

The very day before, and the selfe same night too, they (by sounding the Seas depth) knew they were not far off the land, though they yet saw no possible means of reaching to it without imminent perill of shipwrack; But now that danger (although indeed still the same) seemed in their eyes somewhat lesser, considering that which the opposite shore menaced their crazie vessell. The blustering winds incessantly whistled on all sides; But to hold more on the one hand than on the other lay not in the power of such as endeavoured it, the ship riding right under the Island, whose capes were so farre distant that there appeared no hopes to wade thither with any assurance of safety. Thus then being certaine of naufrage, every one endeavoured to fit himselfe with some small plancke or other, it be­ing lawfull for any such as had none, to teare one off the shippe and make it the meanes of his deliverance. Their confused cries (in the meane while) mounting up to the skies equalized the rustling noise of the loud-roaring Sea, which grew to be so boldly domesticke, that it came and went fa­miliarly in and out without asking any leave.

The now-despairing Pilot, who with the furtherance of three assistants, [Page 2] and helpe of his strongest Cables was not able to command the helme, having now abandoned it, and eased him of the burthen of his cloathes, sought out for some thing serviceable for the conveying his body from the tyranny of the devouring Ocean; whilst the night to the Sunnes shame (which being totally eclipsed by the interposition of the terrestriall Globe continued its course in the opposite horizon) recovering the possession of her hereditary darkenesse imparted to these distressed caitives a glimpse of dusky light, to the end the sight of their miserie might encrease its sensibility.

The Ship (like a Sea-bird among the surging waves) held on her course, diving under the foaming surface of the raging maine, whilst the boiling billowes grew still more and more swelling and violent, by how much the nearer they approached the shore, till by buldgeing on an occult rocke, it wanted little of being quite overturned, so forcibly was it hur­ried along the dissembling smoothnesse of the water by the fury of an un­resistable wind; feare so encreasing their out-cries, as they seemed to bee perswaded, that they could with their vowes force the heavens to doe what they would have them.

Among other passengers there aboard was an aged Gentleman, whose gray haires and grave countenance spake him worthy of a respective re­verence, he alone among all these clamours had the power to containe himselfe all this while within the bounds of silence; Till now casting his eyes on the shoare and sailes, at the very instant that with the benefit of a favourable wave they had surmounted the rocke (though with their Ship shrewdly bruised and well neare split) hee loudly pronounced this speech.

And is this (my masters) a time to be spent in lamentations, and lazily invoking the heavenly assistance, without using the necessary meanes of your deliverance? Peradventure you beleeve it should by some strange­ly-miraculous way be prest upon you, whilst it being already proffered you, you have neyther the judgement to conceive it, nor the will to make use of it: To what end (I pray you) were your hands made, and the reach of reason confer'd upon you? you call out for instruments as though you wanted them, and knowing that the gods ab horre idlenesse would yet have them be propitious to your sloathfull oraisons. The danger is not yet such altogether as you conceive it to be, though indeede it will doubt­lesse grow to be such, if you use not the remedy to prevent it; Seeing we have yet a good way to the land, our Shippe being almost all over leaky and battered; the shore abounding in sandy shelves, and all our Sailes strucken downe. True it is, that whilst the night lasted, it was our sa­fest course to strike all save a small Trinket Saile, the violence of the winds and the darkenesse then requiring it; But now (alas) our state is farre diffe­rent, For I tell you, that if you put not in practise all the meanes you can imagine to runne us ashore with all expedition possible, it will be unpossi­ble for us to escape drowning.

This speech of his was so efficacious, as it seemed to infuse new courage into their drooping spirits, so as hoissing up all their Sailes, the Ship re­ceiving (as it were) a new livelinesse from the forwardnesse of their reso­lutions, merrily ranne aground in a Channell not farre remote off the [Page 3] land, whence after a short space, at the ebbing of the Sea, they had the convenienceie of conveying themselves at their leasure, to the much desired shore.

The old Gentleman (with a servant he had with him) having landed, tooke his way towards a wood, where lighting on a small path, hee fol­lowed it so farre, that at last it led him to the mouth of a cave. But by then the death-menacing disquietnesse hee had endured in the night, the drow­sinesse of his spirits for want of sleepe, the tedious toilsomnesse of the un­couth way hee was come, but above all, the irkesome heavinesse of his old age had so overtired him, as hee found himselfe unable to goe on any farther, untill hee had first refresht himselfe with a little rest. But here, as hee thought to lay him downe, hee heard an odde kinde of murmure in the cave hard by him, and more attentively listning, might distinctly heare two faintly-lamenting voices, which with a pittifull accent enterchanged some few but weake words, as though in sighes and sobbings they had beene two dolefull corrivals. Whereupon, entring into the cave (its mouth being freed of a large slate-stone wherwith it was used to be clos'd up) hee passed along through a narrow entrie so farre, that hee came to finde out its doore; through which (although it was covered with a sump­tuous piece of hangings embroydered with gold, and adorned with a rich coate of Armes under a royall Crowne) hee might yet espie a noble ma­tron, who having taken up in her armes a babe borne but that very instant, laid him aside on a bed, to goe & lend her assistance unto his mother, who lay groveling on a mattresse with her face in such a posture, as it could not from where hee stood be seene; continuing a pretty while in that plight, with her spirits so retired from executing their peculiar offices, as they seemed to have quite forsaken her. But the matron (assisted by an other Damsell) by wetting and chafing her pulses with soveraigne waters, brought her againe to her selfe; when upon their lifting her to lay her in a more easie posture, was discovered such a shape of a face, as (in despite of all palenesse) was one of the fairest and best featur'd that ever was painted with celestiall pensill, distended upon an youthfull tablet of some eigh­teene yeares of age; her haire hung downe all disheveled about her seem­ly shoulders, (the onely fitte dressing to ravish amorous hearts) her appa­rell too was costly, and all things else in her promised no lesse eminencie than excellencie; onely the place and her present condition wore the badges of a distressed state. A long while continued shee deprived of the ability to make use of the Organs of her speech, left alone of her women, who were gone downe to the bottome of the cave to looke to the new­borne babe; onely her sighes kept her company by turnes, now and then interrupted by a weeping groane (I might well say) loving, if a lugubrous and desperate love could be capable of so sweet an epithete.

The Matron returned more cheerefully than shee went (so much pleased her a male childe, but much more a manly beauty) and making her a low reverence, shee thus bespake her.

Most excellent and dearest Madame, bee of good comfort, (I beseech your Highnesse) for behold here the fairest and best proportioned crea­ture that ever was borne: Oh what a beautifull and goodly progenie would the world produce if really affectionate love were alwayes sole a­gent [Page 4] in himencall unions! I have alwayes heard say, that stolen embraces and furtive births prov'd to be ever the best, goodliest, and most beauti­full; all the spirits concurring, and being with an affectionate will strongly united together, and wholly intentive to the performance of that onely office. The heavens be praysed, for having now at length out of the masse of our diasters extracted us this dragme of comfort.

The young Lady raising her selfe upon her elbow, tooke at one looke a full survey of her childe; but being reduced to such weakenesse as shee was not longable to rest on the feeble support of her arme, causing him (wrapped in a rich mantle) to be laid by her on the bed, shee tenderly kis­sing him thus answered.

Ah Paralette: And good reason have you to say, hee is a goodly faire childe, for so indeed he is (unfortunate infant!) Peradventure hee pre­tends to make the deformity of his destiny seeme lesse ugly through the vaile of these his goodly beautifulnesse and comely making; these (alas) looke not as if they were for their birth-place beholding to homely caves seated among desolate groves, where the necessity of shunning the day­light, presents their owner for his first object with darkenesse and horror. But with this return'd to weeping and then againe to kissing him, shee pro­ceeded, saying.

And seemes it unto you (Mother) that an effect so beautifull ought to be a just ease to my calamities? and that the Gods have, out of my mis­deeds, extracted that for my good, which is likely to prove to mee a per­petuall occasion both of griefes and miseries? No, no, the heavens not fully satisfied in having made mee in the highest degree miserable in my owne person onely, are pleased to manifest their infinite power in an end­lesse misery; for in extending it to another they multiply my agonies with the multiplication of the causes of my fortunes; shee was notable to utter another word, for being fallen into a swound, more through the extremi­ty of her griefe, than the agony of her sicknesse, continuing a good while in this deadly trance, whilest her women carefully employed the best of their endeavours for the recovery of her senses.

The old Gentleman, full of noble pitty, would willingly have added an helping hand to assist her, but that he considered, that extreame afflictions admit not of any other reliefe, than little-availing compassion. Besides, that the quality of her infirmity prohibiting the presence of men, would have made his curtesie beene construed for an unexcusable point of incivility. Taking afterwards more observant notice of the place, hee discovered in its poverty an object of discorrespondent furnitures, the bed and arras hangings being all of silke and gold. But whilest he thus stood observing what they were a doing, Carildo a Squire appeared at the call of the Ma­tron, which caused him to retire from the cave, but not to part away thence, in that he conceived shee was sending him forth, nor was he indeed therein mistaken; for as this Squire would have put himselfe on his way out, he came to meet him full butt; at which unexpected sight the Squire (carried by the violence of a just judgement to an unjust suspition) was no lesse dismaid than afrighted: till the Gentleman courteously saluting him, enquired the way to some neighbouring village, where hee might provide himselfe of a ship, seeing that the vessell that had brought him thither [Page 5] had beene (through the discourtesie of the sea and tempest) wracked on that shore; To which the Squire (perceiving now by his language that hee had entertained a wrong suspition of him) made answer; That how­beit to finde shipping in that Iland would be somewhat difficult, yet that he could not lightly misse of fitting himselfe in Feacia. But in the meane time, where may I (replied the Gentleman) provide me some victuals? In a very good place (answered the other) for on the way that I am now going, we shall passe by the house of a reverend Druide, who entertaines very kindly all strangers, but more especially Gentlemen of merit as you seeme to be; who also will out of his ordinary goodnesse see you provi­ded of shipping, and supplied of all other necessaries; Being then by the Gentleman asked the name of that Iland: It is properly called (said hee) Ericusa, but more commonly the Iland of Adventures, for here arrives not any Cavalier, that in a short time lights not on divers strange and un­expected accidents; Certainely (replied the old Gentleman) I beleeve that to be most true, since my shipwrack may very well be accounted in the number of these accidents, but much rather that which I chanced to see within your cave: Here observing the Squire grow pale at his pro­nouncing of these later words hee proceeded.

Be not dismaid (my kinde friend) for it was neither curiosity nor any ill intention that brought me to prie into your secrets; onely I would to God it lay within the reach of my power to doe this noble Princesse any ser­vice, you should then soone see, that I would willingly effect it even to the effusion of my blood.

[Now the Gentleman knew not as yet, that the Lady delivered of the childe was a Princesse, yet did he boldly stile her so, for that hee ghessed her to bee such, as well by the title given her by the Matron, as by the Crowne he had discovered above her Armes, perswading himselfe, that by boldly giving her that eminent title, he might easily worke out of the Squire the secrets of her being and quality, which indeed fell out accor­dingly] for the Squire hearing him relate the passages of the cave, which induced him to conceive that shee was already knowne unto him, had not the power to be longer silent; and the subtle old Gentleman perceiving him come to the point he wish'd for, praid him to disclose how her for­mer fortunes had guided her to the state of her present being: To the which he willingly condescending, said: (Sir) There is not any body here that knowes her otherwise, than by meere conjectures, so as what you might have beene casually informed of, cannot choose but be farre wide off the truth.

Corianna my Lady and Soveraigne Mistresse became enamoured of Lucano Duke of Lucania, a Gentleman in all excelling qualities, the most accomplisht that was, (I will not say of all her Fathers Subjects, but) of all the Princes that are this day in the world; For in nobility and estate there was not one that equalled him in the whole Kingdome of Parthenope, nor else-where any that exceeded him in comlinesse of per­sonage, hardinesse or knightly valour, yet were these (though rare) en­dowments but handmaides to others farre more prize-worthy; at least­wise to those wherewith he captivated mens minds, as his bounty and mo­desty, and above all, his discretion, the moderatresse of all other vertues, [Page 6] and of her selfe too. So that to love then the Duke of Lucania was so farre from being a fault, that hee was not held for a gentle spirit that did not both honour and (in a manner) adore him.

Corrianna then (casting both her eyes and heart, I know not whether more upon the comely and well-featured personage or sweete disposition, and other excelling qualities of Lucano) grew to be so affectionate both to the one and the other, that her becomming blinde thereat, so dimm'd his eyes, that they stumbled, or rather tumbled downe both together over the precipice of inconsiderate resolution, into the bottomlesse gulfe of despairing miserie.

The King her Father had solemnly promised her to the King of Sicily, for the Prince his Sonne; and shee very readily had assented thereunto: for, being (at that time) a free woman, shee wholly rendred her selfe obe­dient to the disposition of her parents: But after that love (the infringer of wholsome lawes, and destroyer of good orders) had violated her mo­desty and corrupted her minde, shee then gave liberty to her licentious will, which afterwards occasioned his fatall end, and her utter ruine.

The Princes & Lords of that Kingdome are (for the most part) used to resort to the Court but few moneths in the yeare; for, it being their hu­mour to make a glorious shew, the great expences they make therein doe so farre exceede their abilities, that for not being able to maintaine them­selves there (any long time) in their accustomed pompe, they are con­strained (for feare of their utter undoing) to retire themselves to their owne home and meanes.

The Father of Lucano by thus over-running his courses, left at his death his estate so incumbred, as it was judged a happinesse that hee died (al­though for other occasions hee was well worthy of life) and his Mother being his guardian, assigning an honourable allowance towards her house­keeping, and towards the maintenance and nobly breeding up of her sonne (who at that time passed not nine yeares of age) imployed the residue towards the discharging of debts; so that at his going out of his minority, hee was so rich, that without prejudice to his estate, he could liberally spend conformable to the unbounded greathesse of his minde, and eminent degree of his nobility. This was the reason that Lucano ne­ver frequented the Court but (in his Fathers time) when he was very young, making his abode during the residue of his blooming yeares in forraine countries, it being discreetly considered of his prudent mother, that ones naturall climate and aire (how temperate and pure soever) is subject to the imperfection of being uncapable of it selfe to make any man compleate; studie and instruction being of themselves dead things without Travell and Experience, the onely meanes to pollish the rude­nesse, and imbellish the deformity both of mindes and manners.

At the publishing of these nuptials, the Court was enriched with Prin­ces, Lords, and Knights, and pompously adorned with magnificent and glorious shewes, in so much, as Parthenope (though alwayes gentile) seem­ed now exeedingly to exceed her selfe, so as such as beheld her, wondred what wit could invent, or purse minister and supply the excellencie and abundance of the Artifice, and stately curiosities that were there seene.

The wals seen [...] but [...] such [...] [Page 7] expressible varieties of delightsome objects: In the morning the temples refounded with the harmonious noise of care-ravishing Mufick, and odo­riferously smelled of sense-recreating and fragrant savours: In the after-noone their faire large streetes strowed all over with rich Caroches and proud Coursers, made a most glorious shew in the distinct medley of such a number of Nobility, who towards the setting of the sunne, retired them­selves under the jetting-out windowes, and faire balcones of the Kings Pal­lace, enriched with a comely aspect of most beautifull Ladies, a sight which wrought in the Cavaliers an ardent desire to deserve the being eyed and gaz'd upon.

The Sunne (taken with the delightsomnesse of these heroicall exercises) was loath to withdraw himselfe to his accustomed rest, untill he had seene broken by two hundred lances (that there were burst in shivers) two hun­dred of his more resplendent rayes; the vapours of the earth, at that houre, serving for sticklers to devide it equally among the tilters.

From the lists they betooke themselves to the dancing hall, the first place of admittance granted novice-lovers in Cupids Academy, and best affected solace of rosiall and love-adoring yeares.

In this happy time came Lucano to the Court, entertained by the King with particular favours, his worth speaking him the prime Peere of the Realme, but much more his gracefull aspect and Princely presence, qua­lities forwardly recommended by Nature unto other mens favours. And having with all ceremonious reverence performed his duty to the Queene, hee with a sweetly-respective-humblenesse kiss'd the hand of the Prin­cesse. But while they interchangeably beheld one another, their eyes were at first sight so constantly fixed on each others countenance, as though their objects had beene long before familiar to them, and seene else-where; for clearing themselves of which ambiguity, their rayes as faithfull Heralds by peering while here while there, question either the other about it. What the particular answers of either side return'd were, is unknowne; onely most certaine it is, that the scope of it was love, for to love they concluded.

Now the daily newes of the future bridegroome began to sound harsh in Corrianna's eare, all his rich presents were priz'd but as meere drosse in her esteeme, nor could shee endure to give the Embassadours as much as a looke, that might any way promise them that shee bare the least good liking to their embassie, her thoughts, affection, and will were in a mo­ment quite altered, and if the fayning of her selfe sick had not depriv'd her of the sight of Lucano, shee from fayning had become sick in good earnest, her body being already disposed to follow the indisposition of its minde, which was discovered by the evident signes of the alteration of her countenance, were it for the relation that is between it and the minde, or through her want of sleepe, or rather because from that time her heart began to make an ominous presage of her ensuing disasters.

The sports and revellings were reduced all into one place, where in dancing were by them laid the ruinous foundation of their utter ruine. It never came within the reach of my knowledge, to discerne which of them both was the first that made the motion of love, but I am perswa­ded that (their wounds being equall) both at the selfe same time sought [Page 8] for the proper salve to cure them with: yet I have heard the Princesse her selfe often say, that shee alone was in all the fault, and that the unfortunate Duke (foreseeing the future misfortunes) resolved to goe on, rather be­cause he would not have her beleeve that he little esteemed her, than be­cause he was either inconsiderate, or any way uncapable of performing the office of a prudent and discreete Gentleman; Nature having fore­ripened his bosome, because the Destinies had over-forwarded his death. But where fortune prevailes (it is most certaine) that little availes there any humane Iudgement.

Their flames then being thus reciprocally revealed, there wanted no­thing now save the meanes and opportunity of attaining to the remedy; but because that place was inconvenient to treate thereof, and their con­ference often interrupted, (not without danger also of being observed) they resolved to talke further thereof in her chamber; yet dancing almost every evening, and holding on sometimes till the breake of day, it behov'd her to counterfeite her selfe sick whensoever shee desired to enjoy his company.

Paralette Dutchesse of Magnagrecia, a principall Lady and neere kins­woman to Lucano, was her governesse, her it behoved the Princesse to win of her party, being shee alwayes lay in her chamber, and almost never de­parted out of her presence; yet was it a difficult thing (I will not say) to perswade her to be a furtherer of their desires (that being a thing impossi­ble to be accomplish'd) but to prevaile with her so farre, as to procure her silence, shee often menacing to reveale all to the King: Corianna for all that (certain of the contrary for the affectionate respect shee bore her, and being howsoever resolved to goe on, although the King himselfe had beene already acquainted with it) little regarded her threats of discove­ring all; yet, finding her so averse to her desires, was enforced to disclose the whole tenor of her secrecies unto one of her women, of whose faith­fulnesse shee boldly presumed to be confident.

At the houre appointed Lucano came, but then the Dutchesse slipt away, and the Gentlewoman, by casting a small coard out of the window, drew up a scaling lader, and fastned it to two iron hookes, by which meanes hee clim'd up into her chamber, where, after their complementall salutes, shee thus bespake him.

My Lord Lucano, I know not what opinion you may entertaine of mee, who being already promised to a husband, have yet beene the occasion of your comming into this place; I therefore beseech you (Sir) if such boldnesse be otherwise unexcuseable, that you (out of your noblenesse) would yet be pleased to extenuate it, by giving it some other name; and by so much the rather, that it proceeds from my over-loving you, an ex­tremity which constraines me to make you a participant of my dangers, as I am conforted with the hope of your being a reciprocall partaker of my love: The truth (in briefe) is, that I desire to be yours, though I can­not (in that manner as I pretend to be) without a world of dangers, yet if the affection which you beare me be of such a carract, as that it weighs them not, I shall then thinke on the meanes that shall worke our full con­tent, and that is, to goe with you whithersoever your discreete resolutions shall be pleased to guide us. But if in such a degree I possesse not a roome [Page 9] in your noble bosome, then doe, I beseech you, but disclose it unto mee, that I may then resolve of some meanes of weaning me from the thought of it.

Much amazed remained Lucano at this so unlook'd for a proposition, for that hee a little before beleeved, he should safely arrive at the harbour of his desires without hazarding the vessell of his content and fortunes among the dangerous rocks of inconsiderate and desperate resolutions; love her hee did very ardently, but yet not in such a way; nor imagined hee, that shee (who was already as good as married) had any such thought in her, perswading himselfe that one woman might very well be interessed in two men, under the distinct titles of law and love; and although such a thing in it selfe be indeede ill, yet thought he its badnesse much extenuated by its commonnesse, accidents of that quality hapning every day unto thousands. But what could a generous heart, and a heart overflowne with a deluge of love (upon such a sudden pinch) resolve of? Having therefore kiss'd her hand, he return'd her this answer.

Right noble Madame, I beseech your Highnesse not to conceive mee to be either so discourteous in opinion, or so free from the engagements of affection, that I can passe any other judgement on you, than such as obli­ged duty and love (my only directors) addresse me unto, without either of which I have no power to judge at all: the one shewes mee, that I have neither state nor life to make account of, where I have the honour of, but simply serving you; much lesse the happinesse of being blest with the en­joying you, as out of the inexhaustable treasure of your goodnesse, you have (beyond all my merits) benignely offered me; the other is such, as I cannot properly terme it extreame, for, the greatest extreames have their limits; whereas my love, being in me infinite, produceth its infinite ef­fects; so as your Highnesse hath no reason to doubt, that I most loyally af­fect you, whom I have so great reason to love and honour. But as for that which concernes the accomplishment of our desires, I confesse there ap­peares no meanes of effecting it without evident danger both of life and honour, not in regard of my selfe (for my acquist hath no hazard equiva­lent, nor perill that can equall it) but in respect of your royall person. For, alas, mee thinkes I already see in it toilesomnesse, travels, sufferings, a pri­vate life, a sparing, and peradventure a poore one too, being all of them conditions contrary to your birth and quality; hard, yea and impossible for the greatnesse of your minde to undergoe and endure.

The Princesse well pleased with this his answer, (with a countenance that seemed to have expelled all clouds of mistrust from her till then-un­certaine thoughts) thus cheerefully replied.

My choysest and dearest-best of truest friends, I have now of you what I most desired, that is, the assurednesse of your inclination, which facili­tates unto mee all the difficulties that you in any thing propose, such (how great soever) having no equality with my affection, which is sufficiently powerfull to dispose of impossibility it selfe. That which compels me to tell you this, is, that in respect of my being already promised to a husband, it is expected I should goe home to him; but then alas! to live so deprived of you will be impossible for me; and againe to entertaine you for my se­cret friend, honesty forbids me; besides, my resolution of choosing rather [Page 10] to dye than enjoy you in such a way. The sole inconvenience then, that will follow my determination, is, that I, for being promised unto an other, shall disobey my Father; but those that will follow the contrary will bee many, as to dye, if either I enjoy you not at all, or but only for a short time, (for long I am sure you could not make your abode in Sicily) and that short time too, to the dishonour of my selfe, my father and husband; such a determination carries with it, I know, an appearance of no small mis­chiefs, which cannot indeede choose but prove such in effect. What then is our best course? to resolve of nothing? Shall wee take instruction from those who perceiving imminent dangers to environ them on all sides, dare not, for meere feare of them, use the meanes to prevent or shunne them, whilst their irresolution brings them on to encounter them to their farre greater ruine? The faint-hearted man cannot suffer his wound to be tou­ched, because he hath not the patience to brooke the sense of the paine, untill it grow to be so festered, that (in despight of his froward will) hee must (at last) endure both searing and lancing-irons, yea and oftentimes the losse of the diseased member, and his life to boote. Matters of great consequence are never unattended on by dangers of all sides. There is no man that in a dangerous affaire can make other than a dangerous resoluti­on, but the lesse dangerous is (indeed) the better resolution, and the best the most suddaine. Our case hath no resolution without danger, if we re­trune not to our former state of freedome, and unlove againe; But with what heart, I wonder, can you returne to what you professe to have utter­ly relinquisht? For my part I am certaine, that I shall never be able to unsettle my affection; if then necessity require that you be mine, it will surely prove a lesser evill, that I enjoy you in certainty by flying away with you hence (it being so but one sole evill) than, being married to an other, to enjoy you in uncertainty with evident dangers of both life and honour.

Lucano could have wish'd to have beene at that instant rather amidst an army of enemies, than in the straight he was in, being well assured, that if once shee grew to be obstinate, they could resolve of nothing but their ut­ter ruine, neverthelesse he thus courteously replies.

Incomparable Lady! it lies not in the power of me, your devoted crea­ture, to be otherwise than altogether obsequious unto your Highnesse will and pleasure; since that two wils are incompatible in one only soule; much lesse fitting is it for mee to advise you in an affaire that tends to my owne good and interest, which altogether debilitates my judgement, and cloudes it with passion; yet, so you be but pleased to grant me leave to suspend our peculiar wils for the better accomplishing of our mutuall de­sires, I trust I shall be then able in some sort to advise you, my interesses being surmounted by the feeling consideration I have of your utter un­doing. To come to particulars were superfluous, for I am sure your High­nesse comprehends them better, than I know how to display them; or if I thought that you resolved of the contrary, for some reasons by me un­conceived, I would then humbly beseech you not to demand my coun­sell in it, but to command me its execution, wherein I shall ever be most ready to obey you.

At this the Princesse, surprized with a skarlet blush, thus interrupted him.

[Page 11] Ah Lncano, I see now you are not in love, for love is neither fcrupulous nor forecasting; nay it hazards all, and is uncapable of other consideration than of it selfe. In which point shee so enlarged her selfe, as Lncano would have had much adoe to raze out of her conceit the wrong impression of his love; if (laying aside all perswasive reasons) hee had not expressed his willingnesse of flying away with her; but how to effect it they knew not, doubting whether it were their better course to convey themselves privi­ly away from Parthenope, or to stay till they went for Sicily, and so steale away by the way; judging the later to be the lesse dangerous, they agreed to cause to be pack'd up in a little fardell all their Iewels and gold Coyne, that so they might be ready for their embarking and flight.

That night was employed in no other occasions, shee pretending to ex­tenuate her errours with the title of matrimony, besides their mindes trou­bled with stinging considerations made them uncapable of delight: and though hee thought to make authentick their resolved ruine with the sweetnesse of some momentary pleasure, yet would shee by no meanes yet permit him, but promised him, that another night shee would (as a lo­ving wife) be conformable in all things to his discretion and will.

Lovers most commonly at their parting from the objects of their loves have their hearts swollen with content, onely Lucano parted from his with a minde over-charged with sad and heavy thoughts, yet were they so sup­ported by the vigor of his youth, and repulsed by the power of his de­sires, that he made no great account of them, preferring the value of the reward before the greatnesse of the danger; it being the more confirmed, since the Princesse, constant in her promise, was contented in the pre­sence onely of her Gentlewoman to receive the wedding-ring, not daring as then to acquaint therewith the Dutchesse as afterwards shee did; which was the occasion that shee (good Lady) kept her bed, deprived of the a­bility of stirring thence for a great while after.

Fridone Duke of Daunia was then Lord high Constable of that king­dome, a Peere (next Lucano) the chiefe of the Realme, and this office of great authority, seconded by the greennesse of his blooming yeares, made him become both rash and arrogant. Tis true, that hee was Lucano's own Cozen, but it is not the vicinity of blood that formes the unanimity of friends; for their Fathers having long contended in law, left an heredita­ry ill-will rooted in the hearts of the sonnes. Also Fridone, besides this hereditary evill inclination, was of his owne nature worse affected towards Lucano, whom he envied at the heart, because he saw him surpasse all o­thers in deserts, and excelling qualities. It happened as hee passed one day by a shop, where were a making certaine tassels for his horses, that he en­tred into it (not so much for any necessity or desire that he had to see them, as that he idlely loytering, sought for any occasion to passe away the time with) where at first sight, he espied (lying upon a shelfe) a bundle of silke, which he having snatch'd out of the hands of the shop-keeper that endea­voured to hide it from him, perceived to be a ladder wrought with marvei­lous curiosity; and imagining it was made of purpose for amorous thefts, hee so earnestly sollicited him both by faire words and meances, that hee got him at length to confesse, it was the Duke of Lucania's, brought him the day before to be mended, where it was a little worne out by the edge [Page 12] of a window, Parted thence, he began to bethinke himselfe, where Lu­cano could in so short a time have gotten him a Mistresse; but finding no probability for his imagination to pitch on, he resolved to watch him nar­rowly at the next shew at Court, being assured, that there hee should discover what game his fancie flew at; yet found hee himselfe (when hee had in that behalfe used all the best meanes he could) as farre to seeke as at first, Lucano shewing himselfe still indifferent in his carriage to all, which so madded this other Lord, as he bit his lips for meer anger, accusing him­selfe for an inapprehensive and simple fellow; yet still neverthelesse per­severing in observing him, the heedlesse Princesse gave him occasion to build a great suspition on the foundation of her carriage; for, being allu­red by the sweete baite of his love, and by their secret matrimoniall knot, shee might be easily perceived (by one that were a curious observer) to entertaine Lucano with termes both of love and respect; whereupon the other's envie increasing, and his jelousie ingendring an indelible hatred, (himselfe having had the boldnesse to love her too in private, and not en­during that another man should possesse what he durst not somuch as as­pire to) he resolved to sound the depth of his designes, by his nightly fre­quenting the wals of the Pallace; which he had not done the second time, ere the Princesse (under pretence of enjoying the prospect of the water, and of going privately to take the benefit of the fresh sea-aire in a Barge) was retir'd into a Castle scituated on the sea-shore, the more conveniently to flie away from thence; having altered her first resolution upon the feel­ing of her selfe to be quick with childe, and upon the comming of her pre­tended Bride-groome from Sicily in person to fetch her away.

Lucano (in the meane time) had (unknowne to his Mother) secretly mortgaged so much of his lands, as had rais'd him a great summe of mo­ney, wherewith, with the addition of his Iewels and those of the Princesse (over and besides some other few but precious houshold-furniture) hee made account to leade a contented life, which may, perhaps, be lighted on by such, who depending on the supply of their owne meanes, and li­ving free from the tyranny of affections (especially of those two disquie­ting ones, Covetize and Ambition) have the fortune to live either alone, or in company conformable to their proper humour and wayes. But alas! we see it but too frequently fall out, that humane designes prove altogether deceitfull, when the execution of them wholly relies on the favour of content-thwarting fortune.

The Dutchesse (who was Corrianna's governesse) seeing her thus preci­pitate her selfe (the love shee bare her having by this time wrought an al­teration in her minde) determined, now that shee saw no other remedy, to participate both of her weale and woe, especially seeing her to be with childe, little (for her owne particular) regarding how the world would censure her; yet repenting, though now too late, that shee had not in time revealed all to the King, not without fearing the being punished for them all, in case shee stayd behinde them.

Lucano glad of this company so necessary and acceptable to the Prin­cesse, by the meanes of a most faithfull servant of his, provided himselfe of a pinnace, that by chance then anchored in the haven, ready to way an­chor and hoise up sailes for the East, and causing him to goe and stow [Page 13] their baggage aboord her; he gave order that shee should ride at anchor, just but so wide off the Castle, as shee might well heare the signall that should be given, which was the throwing of a stone into the sea, in a direct line towards her.

The Princesse (immediately after midnight) came forth at a private doore where Lucano stood all alone expecting her comming, and on her waited onely the Dutchesse, her Gentlewoman and I loaden with a bur­den of apparell; scarce were wee come to the doore which stood to the sea-ward, when the Gentlewoman opening it, and looking out at it, all afrighted, skreech'd out to the Duke; Looke to your selfe my Lord! I see people approaching: And true it was indeede, for three men came ma­king hastily towards us; upon this the Duke having made all of us to get speedily aboord (the pinnace being by this time already come without any signall at the noise of the unbolting of the doore) knew one and the foremost of them to be Fridone.

Now he (by vertue of his Constables office) might come and goe any where unquestioned, yet not without speciall occasion into that Castle, reserved then (being a time free from all suspition of hostile invasion) to the sole use of the Princesse, so as Lucano's comming thither was alwayes by stealth, even so was he also faine to use the like meanes for his entrance, and now come neere Lucano was by him thus greeted.

What's, I pray you, the best newes Cozen? And (if it may without of­fence be knowne) whither away wend you so late? To chastize thee for thy treachery (answered the other.) With that word their swords were suddenly drawn out, & Lucano set upon by three at once, made short work to rid himselfe of two of them, whose so unmanly assault hee with two blowes so repulsed, that they lay prostrate at his feete, without hope of ever rising more to requite the curtesie he had done them; being left now hand to hand with the Constable, he thrust at him with his point, where­with he ran him quite through the body; with this he (feeling the pangs of death seaze on him) advanced on so forwardly with a desperate pas­sage, that his mortally-wounded brest came to touch his enemies hilts, and then throwing away his sword, he with his dagger stab'd Lucano, that hee fell to the ground, himselfe having the precedencie of falling before him. All this was done in a moment, and I beleeve there passed not above foure Stoccadoes of a side, but all mortall, for I having hastily laid aside my bur­then (accompanied with the Dukes servant) came in as speedily as I could to his succour, but found him groveling on the ground with a whole streame of blood gushing out of his fainting body, yet was hee alive, and as yet unforlorne of either sense or memory: for seeing us busied about him, hee said, Leave off now, oh! leave off Carildo; sithence to employ any care about me is but labour lost; I am alas! a dead man; with that, laying his hand upon the wound in his throate, as though he would a little while have kept in his latest breath, he proceeded.

Carildo, leade away the Princesse and that quickly too, it will be easier for her to obtaine her pardon and reconcilement, being a free-woman, than a prisoner, so shall shee avoide the imminent calumnie, and be timely delivered of her burden: Conjure her by vertue of our true immaculate love, to support with a generous courage this my untimely death: for my [Page 14] part I cannot choose but joy, that I dye in her service. The supreme powers have beene pleased to let her, by my death, see, that I was not worthy of her: Assure her also, that if in the other world I shall finde a­ny measure of compassion, I will then procure a licence to passe the A­cheron, to come and hover about her; peradventure that favour will not be denied me, my case being but too compassionable, besides the privi­ledge of lovers to continue after death in the perseverance of their affe­ctions. There is nothing that makes me diffident therof, but the meannesse of my deserts, which cannot choose but fall short of the merit of so great a glory; yet hope I with her merits helpe to obtaine it, beauty being such a power, as it once forced Pluto to wander out of his infernall dominions. And to the end shee be not affrighted, to see me appeare all imbath'd in blood; tell her I will come transformed into a gentle breath of winde, and will, without either affrighting or annoying her, softly steale under her vaile, and so solace and sport my selfe in her beloved bosome, which as oft as shee feeles, tell her it is I, and pray her to receive me joyfully: Tell her also—. But here his spirits failing him, his last will remained unexpressed, to my so great griefe, that I had undoubtedly kill'd my selfe in the place, had I not more deerely tendred my Ladies welfare, than my owne despised life. But now, danger not affording us the leisure to vent our griefe in teares, I ranne to call away the mariners, with an intention to beare him away with us whatsoever came on't; when my companion comming running after me hastily, told me he descried people approach­ing, and true it was indeede. Wherefore wee highed us aboord, crying out to the mariners to launch out, which they suddenly did, their pinnace being mann'd with fourteene good Oares.

The Princesse having heard the clashing of the swords, and compre­hending (by our feare, by our being alone, and by our faces all besmea­red with the blood that spowted out of the Dukes throate) the disaster that had befallen us, incontinently swounded; the wofull-hearted Dut­chesse, in a plight not much better, used for reviving her the best meanes shee could, which soone after successefully effected, shee, all enraged with passion upon her comming againe to her selfe, burst out into these speeches.

And what, a Gods name, meane you to doe? to contend with the cru­elty of fortune and to overcome it? or to procure me a sensibility, there­by to make me become more lively sensible of death? Carildo! how left you Lucano? I, miserable wretch, had not the power to finde out on a suddain fit words to sweeten so great a bitternesse; whereupon shee seeing me so silent, ask'd me if he were dead? But I, weeping afresh, knew not how to expresse so dolorous an affirmative; whereat tearing her haire and face, shee proceeded.

Hast thou then so forsaken me Lucano? No, no, it is indeede I that have forsaken thee; Pardon me, oh pardon me! I beseech thee my deerest lo­ver, when once I come againe where thou art, I will never leave thee more, but will ever follow thee, and be anew joyn'd inseparably unto thee; With this shee would have desperately flung her selfe headlong into the sea, had not her garments, the tacklings of the Barke, and all we that stood about her, hindred her from executing her so desperate an inten­tion.

[Page 15] The Dutchesse supporting her betweene her armes, comforted her the best shee could; but alas! possibility it selfe hath no possible arguments availeable in extreame calamities; onely this one good effect it wrought, (which was) the procuring her to be silent; so as the mariners, understan­ding litle or nothing of our language, could not comprehend our case or being: And although the suddennesse (at first, and afterwards the renew­ing) of our lamentations made them curious in better observing of both our words and actions, yet did the ignorance of both the fact and persons keepe them afarre off from the conjecture of the truth. Shee in the meane time never ceased from weeping, depriving her selfe of all refreshing & refection, either of sleepe or sustenance, so as her body was reduced to such a weakenesse, and her throate waxen so dry, that shee was scarceable to speake any more; yet did shee, for all this, pronounce the name of Luca­no, with such a compassion-meriting passion, as was able to enforce even cruelty it selfe to beare a share in her sorrowes.

Greived to the heart was the good Dutchesse to see her in so wofull a plight, yet seeing she could not perswade her to use any restorative means to her body (already disposed to pine it selfe away) shee bethought her selfe to assay if shee could any way cheere up her drooping spirits with the more soveraigne medicines of the minde; wherefore with a no lesse ar­dent than compassionable affection shee thus bespake her.

Madame! the time now presents you with an occasion to manifest the greatnesse of your worth; oh then I beseech you be but pleased to consi­der, that Nature having bestowed on you a talent larger than that of any other woman, as you may therefore jusly esteeme your selfe to be singu­lar among all those of your sex, so may shee as justly accuse you to be a­bove all other women living singularly ingrate, if you make not an oppor­tune use of her benefits. True it is, that your crosses exceede those of any one of your sex, nay though all their severall disasters were added toge­ther, yet could they not amount to the summe of yours; for, you have not onely lost your husband, but also utterly abandoned your countrey, your fortunes, your state and parents: yet (me thinkes) that shee that had the resolute boldnesse to hazard such inestimable losses, should not want the courage to endure and slight them with a magnanimous patience; For­tunes game, Madame, is like that of dicing, at which no body should ven­ture other than such a stake as hee cared not whether hee wonne or lost, yours was (I confesse) an unlucky cast; nor is it any marvell that your losse was multiplied upon the by, since that your hazard was a thousand to one. But will it not be yet worse, if you, having lost that thousand, should meerely, out of a desperate folly, throw away all the rest of your stock, without reserving any thing, if not to hazard another time at a more indif­ferent lay; yet, at least wise, for setling the foundation of some better ad­vised course of life? Remember Madame, I beseech you, that the afflicti­ons which the Gods send us should serve us (and you in particular) for fa­vourable admonitions, since they are the meanes of recalling us into their love and favour; which if they seeme so greivous unto you, now that they are but the emblems of their anger; how terrible will they then ap­peare, when they shall be transformed into the effects of their unappease­able fury? It lies, you know, in their power to reduce you to a more [Page 16] miserable plight than you yet are in. They have not their hands so short­ned as that they cannot lengthen them at their pleasures: Although wee cannot with the weake eyes of humane judgement discover the manner how, which is the onely argument that makes for your comfort. But if for your corporall crosses you will needs have a corporall comfort, then doe but looke into your selfe, and remember, that you are a bearer of a burthen that will doubtlesse prove an abortive, if you in time desist not from your grieving, fasting and watching. Vp, up, deere Madame, and be confident, that if worldly fortune hath disfavoured you, the heavenly will not faile to glaunce a favourable looke on your distressed state, pre­supposed, that you must both aspire to, and expect it. Lucano, whose soule is, I am sure, ever present with you, cannot choose but be much agreived at your so litle esteeming that deere pledge of his love he left you. Doe him not then (oh doe him not) such an injury; hee already pretends to live againe to you in another quality; and yet you, because you cannot enjoy him alive that way that you would, will in another quality put him to death againe in the person of another. This the Dutchesse told her in so gentle, and yet feeling a manner of delivery, that the Princesse recol­lected all her weake powers to returne her this answer.

Mother, the reasons of one that comforts are ever the same, though the griefes of the afflicted be never so different; if I had but one sole losse, and one onely griefe, as I have, the Gods know, but too too many of ei­ther, I am perswaded you would still comfort me with the selfe same ar­guments; as indeed the intellect hath not conceits proper for all misfor­tunes, nor can one and the same salve serve to cure all manner of sores; some afflictions there are, that admit of no consolation, for want of com­fort proper and proportionable to their peculiar degrees; make triall of it in mine, and you shall see, that every one is of it selfe worthy of those reasons you inferre for all.

Can there any griefe come neerer ones heart, than the losse of ones countrey? how many have chosen to die miserably in it, rather than to live any where else? Our goods and meanes, are not they numbred a­mong our chiefest felicities? yet alas! I have lost them all. Now for my state and quality, what woman will not (for this onely respect) deeme me the most unfortunate of my sex, that am from an adored Queene become an ordinary, unknowne, yea and disrespected woman? And to come to my parents, what greater misery can there be imagined, than to lose the loving care of a provident Father, and the sweete comfort and charily­tender affection of a deere Mother, and to remaine an orphant depriv'd of the priviledge of ever more invoking those endeered names? then for my husband; 'tis, I grant, to a disaffecting wife, a happinesse to be rid of a bad husband; but otherwise, where there is true, reall, indissoluble, and reciprocall love, 'tis a misery that cannot be paralleld. The losse of coun­trey, meanes, fortunes, state, dignity, and parents, bring with them a mul­titude of heart-stinging anguishes, but yet with limits, because time may weare them all away; but the losse of a loving and a deserving husband (being withall a man every way most worthy and accomplish'd) is to an affecting wife the summe of all misfortunes, in so much as that shee is not able to endure the want of him, without ever leading an ever-dying-life: [Page 17] Moreover yet, if things in this world be not such as they seeme, but such as wee imagine them to be, especially in subjects of extreame affection, then certainely my misfortunes farre surpasse those of all others, since for the enjoying of a husband agreeable to my owne hearts desire, I esteem­ed it an happinesse to become unhappy with the losse of my countrey, meanes, dignity, fortunes, state and parents; nay I would have bin conten­ted to have lost more too, had I but had more to lose. (Here the Dutchesse would wilingly have replied, but shee commanding her silence procee­ded.) Besides all this, I have lost mine honour, oh that mine inestimable jewell mine honour! which you have not as yet reckoned, supposing, per­haps, that for being placed among imaginary things, it was not at all to be esteemed of; but in my case, my disobedience to my Father, my breach of a marriage concluded on my owne word, and my flight from my na­tive countrey, have all relation to the rule of common honour, against which I have not imaginarily but really offended.

As for the talent you say Nature hath bestowed on me, I am full litle (God wote) beholding to her for it: Since priviledged spirits have (besides the acutenesse of the understanding) an equall quicknesse of sensibility, so as who-so is most apprehensive, is likewise most sensible: Againe, to contrast with crosses and to overcome them, proceeds not from the privi­ledge of Nature, but from an habit acquired by us; which if I owne (as it is not likely, since I have not beene yet much enured to ill fortune) I then have it among so many thornes, that it is a great marvell, if it be not by this time torne to pieces.

To game with-fortune is the trade of all that live, so to be of the losing hand is ordinary, but yet not to be quite undone; for that is incident onely to persons extraordinary as I am, Princes seldome lose without being ut­terly ruin'd: yet should I not be (for all that) much blamed for hazarding so much as I did, for great and right precious was the stake that I hoped to winne, which cannot be valued either by quantity or weight, One pre­tious Iewell is more prized than many masses of gold.

Now for what concernes the Gods, I know not how to answer you, for I neither know nor comprehend their wayes; no, I have (I confesse) but too much straid besides them, yet if their mercies exceed our offences, wherefore have they not then exceeded mine? They will raise mee up (you will say) and againe restore me to my former state! In good time; but if I voluntarily forsooke it for Lucano's sake, and they taken him from mee, how can they then any way ease my griefe, seeing hee is the onely thing I want and desire? Is their Omnipotencie (can you tell mee) so regulated, as to extend even to contradictories? Can they let mee have him in the same instant both dead and alive? More shee would have spo­ken, but the good Dutchesse well knowing that extreame passions mini­ster unwholsome conceits, interrupted her, by inferring consolative rea­sons; and shee after patiently listning unto her, finding her selfe at length convicted with her discreete arguments, returned to tell her.

Mother, the Gods are not so firmely bound by the unabsolveable oathes they vow by the infernall Lake, as you have bound me to let him live to me, upon the interest of the burden I goe now with childe of. Live then I will, that he may leade a living, and I an ever-dying life, among perpe­tuall [Page 18] teares in eternall sorrowes. Here shee thought to have proceeded further, thereby to have vented out her griefe, but the watry humour a­bundantly flowing from her eyes, so suffocated her words as she could not.

In the evening she was perswaded to taste of some restorative conserves, continuing so to doe the other dayes following, untill the marriners touch'd in this Iland to refresh themselves. But then shee leaving us a-boord with the goods, attended only by her women, would by all meanes goe ashore; where espying (by chance) the cave you saw, shee boldly entred it, and out of the litle esteeme shee had any more now of her life, a desire tooke her to settle her abode there, for that shee judged it a place most proper to live concealed in.

The marriners therefore, after being largely rewarded, were licensed, and my fellow-servant and I (necessity being our crafts-master) hew'd out the inside of the cave, and contrived it into divers convenient roomes that you yet saw not; on its backside we erected a wall, covered so artificially with brambles and briars, as no man would imagine to be there either house or garden. As soone as wee were thus accommodated, the Dut­chesse Lucano's man, clad in a pilgrims habit, to Parthenope, to learne out what succeeded after our departure, whilst we with extreame patience endeavoured to moderate the extreame impatience of the Princesse, who calling me (one day) unto her, would needs know of mee, if Lucano spake any thing of her as he lay a-dying; for, all that while had not I related any of his speeches, for feare of augmenting her afflictions: But now holding my selfe obliged in conscience to performe the will of the dead, I impar­ted her all he had enjoyn'd me to tell her. A strange thing it was, to see what a sudden effect it wrought in her. Shee searched in every corner of the cave, without finding the least breath of winde, the ayre being so calme, as there was not a leafe that stirr'd; till come to the entrie doore, shee there felt a gentle blast of ayre, (occasioned by some subtile exhala­tion, that arising there, were kept in by the ayre, which being issued from the concavous content of the cave whirl'd round in that streight; for being so beaten back as it could not get out, but was forced to turne back againe, converted into a litle breath of winde through the doore where the Prin­cesse stood) which shee with opened armes welcomed, conceiting, that shee embraced Lucano; accompanying this act with teares and words so compassionable, as none of us could refraine from weeping with her; this imagination nourishing her so efficaciously, as (I am confidently perswa­ded) that but for it shee had beene dead ere this time.

Moreover, shee hapning sometimes to dreame that Lucano was not dead, wee made a shew of beleeving it, inferring, that the selfe same visi­ons are never reiterated but in dreames unquestionably true and certaine, the soules of lovers communicating their plights and beeings one to ano­ther by naturall (though unknowne) wayes, so perswading her upon this uncertainty to suspend the certainty of her griefe, till the returne of Ol­miro: (for such is the name of Lucano's servant whom wee expect from Parthenope.) True it is, that then peradventure wee shall be in a worse case than now we are in, being he can bring us no other newes, than such as shall augment our griefes; yet shall we then (maugre the worst that can befall us) remove from hence, which will prove no litle breathing to [Page 19] the suffocation of our so grievous disasters.

Much did the good old Gentleman commiserate the so miserable case of so worthy a Princesse, and faine would have beene a furtherer in the employment of removing her thence, but that he saw no meanes of effecting it till Olmiro's returne; yet, but that a greater tye of duty call'd him thence, he had staid there of purpose to expect the opportunity of serving her: Having therefore kindly thanked Carildo, hee told him, hee was sorry at the heart for the ill-fortunes of so great a Princesse, and the more for her being (untill the hearing of more certaine newes) uncapa­ble of resolving how to dispose of her selfe; howbeit he hoped that his returne would be in a time convenient enough to dedicate to her his ser­vice, which he unfainedly meant to performe, it being a case that bound any Gentleman to put a helping hand unto; here observing Carildo be­come a glad man at his offer, he on and told him, that it behoved him of necessity to strike over into Greece for a certaine affaire which would not detaine him above two or three moneths time, and that if it stood with the conveniencie of his Ladies service to stay there but for that small while, he would come and serve her in all things, especially in removing her from that most noysome habitation so obnoxious to her health, and would waite on her whithersoever shee pleased to goe: And (withall) would take on him as though hee came thither accidentally, and also (for giving her no cause of other suspition) attend him without the cave, that so gotten out thence they might conferre, and resolve of what should be done.

Full well pleased was Carildo with what they agreed on, conceiting, that the heavens had sent thither that Gentleman: (for yeares and gravity fittest of any man for such an employment) yet for his better assurance thereof (after yeelding him respective thankes) he craved his name; which not being denied him, and to him by report well knowne (as it is a thing ordinary to know the names of great persons eminent in the Courts of Princes) he desired to kisse his hand.

Continuing reciprocally in courteous language each to other, they wal­ked on till they entred into a very pleasing site for prospect, where, on the brow of a little hillock, stood erected an homely house, and close by it a faire Temple, encircled all about with meadowes and a delightsome sha­dy grove; heere it was that the Druide dwelled, and here tooke Carildo his leave, whose daily exercise was to goe see if any Vessell came thither from the West, to the satisfaction of the impatient Princesse.

Now the way to get up to the hill passed through the wood, on the one side whereof stood erected under a lofty Siccamore-tree the Image of Iove the preserver, and on the other one of Venus with her Sonne; in the shade of the tree at the foote of the Goddesse, the Gent: (who was the good old Count of Bona) might see, sleeping with his face upwards, a goodly and well-featured young Knight, by sight under seventeene yeares of age, his shield painted over with a violet-browne, besprinkled with teares rested on the footestall of the statue; and not farre thence stood grazing a horse of such perfections, as nothing that tended to singularity was wanting in him. Hee was of colour bay, with legge, taile, and mane black, daintily crisped and platted with silke, his head litle and leane, full [Page 20] of veines and nerves, was beautified with a white starre in the forehead, and adorn'd with short thinne prick't up eares, and a goatish large sparkling eye, his nostrils were flaggy and so puft out, as there lay discovered to the beholders eye their fiery coloured insides, and withall wide enough to e­vaporate the often fumes of his proud lungs; his mouth ragged, full of thick foame ever champing on the Bitt, his neck short, and eminently hoo­ked in the bent of its crest; broad and ample was his brest, his back short and dented downe to his very taile, his crupper large and fleshy, his legges straight and leane with one white foote, a short pasterne with a hard, high concavous, and round huffe.

The sight of the horse, and the well-promising demeanour of the Squire that stood neer him, bred in the Count a curiosity of knowing his Masters name, which after saluting him he demāded. I am sorry Sir, (answered him the Squire) that I may not obey you, but hope the command imposed on me to conceale it, will free me from the censure of behaving my selfe un­manerly to-you-wards, with this much only I can acquaint you, that he is of a remote country, and travels abroad guided by a desperate mellancho­ly; something more he would have said, but stopt his speech, when hee saw the Count observe the Druide descending with a Gentleman in his company, who seemed to contend as they came, the Druide with grave gestures, the Gentleman with vehement but humble ones. The Count thought it unfitting to intrude (as then) into their company, seeing them so serious in a discourse (to his ghessing) very important; but retiring behind a fir-bush, caused the Squires to doe the like.

Being come before the Image, they adored it, where afterwards espy­ing the young Knight that lay asleepe, and observing him a while to their wonder, they passed-on farther without awaking him. What the two discoursed of, these could not over-heare, till a pretty while after, their passion transporting them to high words.

Sithence you then will not (said the Druide) be satisfied with what's reason, I cannot helpe it; And doth your Highnesse (answered the Gent.) call it reason to bee confin'd here without having regard to what you should? And to what (replied hee) should I have a regard to, but to my selfe? Mary to these (said the other) whose weale and woe depends sole­ly on your Highnesse; or if so great a tye of duty cannot yet prevaile with you, (since you pretend to be quite stript of all humane affections) yet let the duty which you owe the Gods, worke something on you, who preor­dain'd you should be borne a Prince, to governe the people committed to your charge, a charge which you without their consent cannot lay by, no more than they may without your assent accept of any other Sove­raigne Lord. And thus much my duty bindes me to tell you; nor pretend I hereby to perswade you to give over this kinde of life, which (you say) is so pleasing unto you, though (to the end it may prove yet more delight­some by your continuing it without either scruple of conscience or vexa­tion of spirit) I can doe no lesse than beseech you to but onely returne home to comfort the King your Father; and then (having once setled the Realme-affaires) either to returne hither, or leade a solitary life there, as shall best suite with your liking: what the answer was could not be under­stood, because in respect of their discoasting them, these could not (being [Page 21] so farre off them) heare other than the confused sound of their voices, so as the Count (become curious by reason of what he had heard) had now a great desire to know who hee was, thinking the extreames to be passing strange betweene a populous court and pensive solitarinesse, a spacious Kingdome and an homely hermitage. Whilest in this manner reasoning with himselfe he traced him with an observant eye, he might see him, ha­ving taken in hand a booke from under his arme, part from the Gent: who the same very way returned much confused in minde. The Count stepping out to goe meete him, they curteously saluted each other, and the Gent: understanding the manner of his landing in that Iland, bade him be of good comfort, with assuring him, that he could not be unsupplied with shipping by such time as, for refreshing himselfe after his sea-sufferings, he had made a competent abode in that place, which though it were remote and but a kinde of an hermitage, was yet sufficiently commodious to en­tertaine Cavaliers, for which sole end it was builded: The Count (well pleased to finde in such a place such unexpected curtesie) said unto him: Me thinkes (Sir) this hermitage hath a society convenient to it self, which is the variety of sites, and objects therein, that here all about are to bee seene, effects of industry and invention more than ordinary; which induce me to beleeve, that the religious Founder thereof hath fashioned out the rongues of a ladder to heaven by these of a foreseeing and quick-witted humanity, the meanes of enjoying both the one life and th' other. I con­ceive not what it is that you mean (answered him the Gent:) sithence that though the love to serve the Gods ought indeed to spring from the know­ledge of things, yet beleeve I not those things to be (for all that) humane, especially if it be true that our election depends not immediately on us, but on him that cals us; howsoever it be, such an election should have wings to raise us to heaven without any mixture of terrene causes, and without making one and the same things serve both for cart and wheele. By all this meant the Gentleman the Druid's person, which (because the Count well conceived him not) occasioned betweene them a long dis­pute. The first maintain'd, that the vocation of such was no true calling, who either wearied with paines-taking, or forsaken of their pleasures, make choyce of a solitary life; such motions proceeding neither from the spirit, nor from any desire of serving the Gods, but either from the desire of repose, or from the irkesomnesse of not being able to satisfie their own corrupt affections; which the Count opposing not, onely added, that the Gods call men sundry wayes, and that that of wordly interesses manife­sted their power in converting what was ill into good. But the Gentleman (whose minde was transported with passion) not able to containe himselfe within the compasse of generalities, said unto him; And would you thinke such a vocation befitting a Prince, who being tyed in duty to procure the welfare of his Father and Countrey, abandons both the one and the o­ther, meerely out of a frantick mellancholy for his love's proving unfor­tunate. But the Count not resolving him, but demanding such an exam­ple: I will (answered the other) satisfie you willingly, hoping that you also will (since the Gods have conducted you hither) satisfie the honest desire I have to be by you assisted in so pious a worke, sithence the Druide that you saw, is he, who (being deceived in his conceits) goes about to [Page 22] cover his affects with the pretext of serving the Gods, pretending that charity towards himselfe which he denies to others, like those who being over-charged with debts for feare of disincommodating themselves, pay not one of their creditors though hee starved for want of it; with this, ta­king him gently by the hand, he proceeded.

I beseech you (kinde Sir) let us retire to yonder shade, where you shall be fully informed of our case and being, to the end, that knowing us you may be moved to take compassion of him, me, and infinite others, who beare a share in his sufferings; I am confident that you (worthy Sir) may with the authority of your reverend aspect and presence much further my charge, it being unpossible that the reverence of hoary age worke not much in a young Prince, already, by reason both perswaded and convi­cted: As for time and opportunity to accomplish it, wee shall not misse of that, it being his ordinary use to walke through this grove for the preser­vation of his bodily health, though it conduce nothing to that of the spi­rit, which the Count, not contradicting, leaving his Squire to accompany the other, sate him downe by him to heare his story.

The young Knight (in the meane time) over-wearied with past watch­ings, continued his sleepe, arrived-upon unexpectedly by a Lady, both for complexion, beautifull comelinesse, and comely beauty worthy to bee numbred among the fairest; shee was cloth'd in a sky-colour'd, silke gowne embroydered with gold and pearle, which shee wore after the fashion most used by Nymphes, tuck'd up with a rich girdle about her slender waste, so as there lay discovered to the eye her silvered buskins, fastned with tyes of riband, which in the form e of leaves encircled in the mid'st of them a litle rose of diamonds; her brest sparingly discovered, disper­sed not else-where the beholders sight, but engrossed it wholly to it self, without giving it any occasion to repent it's employment; the parts sub­ject to excellencie and defect indifferently appearing; her haire neatly smooth'd but dishevelled, made disorder become so seemely and delight­some, that never any order could boast of such passing seemlinesse: There encompassed them for honour (for, for ornament themselves were their sole adorners) a gay and odoriferous garland: Her dainty hands (the a­morous hookes of hearts) discovered transparently, how slender-boned they were, flesh'd tender, soft, and almost unpalpable; exquisitely pro­portioned and long, delicately hilly, and lasciviously dimpled, adorned with golden bracelets, interlaced with claspes that hooked together hearts inlaid with diamonds. Shee was thither come all alone, carrying with her a basket of Roses, and in a little silver vessell quick embers. The sight of the Knight staid her not from adorning with her flowres the God­desse and her little one, nor yet from burning some of her sweete incense, the odoriferous fume wherofawoke him; so as rising from off the ground, and gazing on her with astonishment, he could hardly (as hee had reason for it) beleeve himselfe; opening therefore his eyes better (and then yet more fixed in his errour) hee opened their fluces, and with a flood of teares, burst her out these speeches.

Oh with what words should I thanke you, the Lady of my life, Liarta, who having already but too much obliged mee whilst you liv'd a mortall, are (now that you are celestiall) come to undoe me with your unmerita­ble [Page 23] favours? Is it possible that my plaint could mount so high, and move you, enthroned among the glory of the happy, to come and comm [...]tate my griefes? Which said, he (rapt with a conjugall love) ran to embrace her, which shee avoyding, hee spake on; And will you not then (deare life of my soule) permit mee to claspe you in my unfortunate armes? No: I am sure you cannot, for I know you to be unpalpable; yet let me enfold and hold within the circle of my armes this faite Image, which though dead to the world, lives yet in the center of my heart; with that offering againe to embrace her, and shee shunning him as before.

I perceive it is not then true (proceeded he) that to the blessed spirits, together with the affects of vertue, doth (for their greater blisse and glory) remaine the memory of things past; for then (I am sure) you would not have forgotten your Almadero: Or was there perhaps together with your mortall body buried my immortall love, as unworthy to be blest with you in heaven, to make me onely among all upon earth most mise­rable and unfortunate? What! are soules dumbe, or can they not distin­guish words as well as represent personages? But (be it as it be will) I am sure I see you, in whose faire countenance I yet discerne the lillies I so e­steemed; but ah! what is become of the roses? alas! death hath gathered them off. Which the Lady with a beck of her head denying, and gently smiling, shewed him those of the Goddesse. When hee (being now come to himselfe somewhat better) perceived shee was not indeede the same he beleeved her to be, and would therefore have craved her humble pardon, but so suddenly lost both his speech and conceit, that hee could not ac­complish his intent.

Shee that attentively had observed him in all his deportments, and no lesse liking his person than pittying his passion, returned him this an­swer. I am not (gentle Sir) the Lady you take me for, since I have a reall body, am yet a woman and live; nor enjoy I ought that is celestiall, save the sole hope of this Goddesse. I am very sorry that I awoke you, and crave you pardon for it, but being come hither expressely to adore the Goddesse, I could doe no lesse than offer her my accustomed oblations.

The Knight with a greedy eye examining in her all those beauties that in a faire woman could be desired, (dispensing withall now, if not forget­ting, his loyall affection to his Liarta) makes her this reply.

The favour (faire Lady) that I receive from you, is of it selfe too great to be merited, without the unexpressible addition of these your-to-me-too-too-courteous satisfactions: yet wonder I not thereat, knowing that as the Gods extend not their liberality unto us according to our dignity, but conformable to their abundant benignity, so cannot those divine beau­ties of yours, choose but participate of the selfe same nature, which if when unimployed it excell the loftiest imaginations, will (no doubt) when it is well imployed surpasse all humane merit; both curtesie and beauty in you with equall pace march on to exeedingnesse; so as I being too feeble­eyed to behold the shining splendor of the one, am dazled with the glit-Tering rayes of the other, nor can I possibly correspond with any parity an imparity so discorrespondent; for, having beene already dazled with the like beames, I finde my selfe so weake-sighted, that my very intellect being, together with my senses and optick organs enfeebled, cannot ex­presse, [Page 24] nor fully discern the good which in its ill it receiveth: yet will I not (for all that) forbeare to acknowledge, meerely out of my being sen­sible of the greatnesse of your merits, how deeply I am engaged unto you; to the end you may both know mee to be yours, and withall (so you bee pleased so much to honour mee) declare me being such for your Knight and servant.

The Lady (who by nature was endued with a vivacity disposed to a pawze-not-intermitting-motion) impatient at so long a discourse, would gladly have many times interrupted him, being inclin'd rather to speake than heare; but restrain'd or rather curb'd by a certaine unknowne force, shee stood patiently-silent, no otherwise than doth a generous Courser, who though hee bite and champe the Bit, refuseth not (for all that) to obey his rider. The sight of this gentle Knight disliked her not, though shee yet liked not well the passion of his old affection, so as making as though shee meant to turne from him with an odde kinde of betweene an amorous and disdainefull looke, shee would oft move her lips, eyes, and body in the action of parting, whilst part yet shee neither could nor would. Till ob­serving him afterwards silently expect what shee would say, and his dis­courses (contrary to his custome) seem short unto her, her selfe withall be­come now tongue-tied with new affects, & (for so being new) undisgested.

Sir Knight (said shee) the freenesse of your speech, and your language it selfe speake you a stranger, in respect whereof though you have not a litle offended mee, yet judge I you worthy of both excuse and pardon: For know (Sir) that wives live in this Countrey subject to lawes not com­mon, whilst husbands live after the particular lawes of their owne passio­nate-unjust wils; Indeede the maids that live free from them, observe no other law than that common one of honesty, conserving themselves (like starres in all aspects) intirely beautifull; whereas the married women have their wanes in the aspects of their husbands, from whom proceede both their light and the manner of using it: For my part (Sir) I am a married woman, and though living in a Countrey favourable to women, yet with a husband disfavourable to a wife; his age and my youth, his jealousie and my honesty, with other contrary conditions (which for mo­desties cause I conceale) have occasioned many wanes, but many more eclipses to my liberty; your thus-entertaining mee therefore with private conference is so farre from steeding mee, that on the contrary it would much prejudice me, if any body but saw you here with me, since your qua­lities aswell by women as by men will ever presuppose arguments of su­spition, if not of blame, especially in regard of me, who (for many re­spects) might have reason to love any other than the Prince my husband. As for your courteous proffers, I lovingly thanke you for them, and to rid from you all suspition of my being discourteous unto you, I kindly and gratefully accept your good will, and so commending you to the Gods, I am gone: Yet as though shee had beene nayled to the earth, stirr'd ne­ver a foote, but standing with her eyes immoveably fixt on those of the Knight, seemed to expect rather a reply than a farewell.

Behold wee Liarta, before so heavily sighed for, now quite forgotten, yea and of a spirit once reputed constant; the ashes (in fine) burne not, they are no more than the memorials and markes of an extinguish'd fire, and [Page 25] death is no progresse but an end of love, whose object are neither carcasses nor buried bones, but a living body, the rather if it be well featured and much more if accompanied with a gentle minde, nay though it be such as participates of neither, yet shall it suffice that it be endued with affections proportionate to the nature or (at leastwise to the) imagination of the lover. But to thee deceased Liarta what imports all this? who if thou hast now no more beeing (as fooles argue) thou hast surely then no organs to expresse thy griefe by; or if thou livest (as 'tis most certaine thou dost) then questionlesse thy present beeing (freed from the rags of flesh) cares no more for our materialities; but being united to that first essence, en­joyes in a pure way of action the purity of actions, loathing now what it formerly loved in the materiall beeing of thy sences, so that since there now remaines with thee no other love, than such as wholly conformes it selfe with the effect of the spirit and vertue, thou scorne and abhorrest the other; and now that thou art blessed, griev'st onely, that hee (being yet earthly and mud) doth wallow so in earth. But returne wee now to the Knight, who by the words & actions of the Princesse was fatally caught, insomuch as quite altering his purpose and designes, hee (resolved now both to love and waite on her) thus bespake her.

The heavens forbid (Madame) that I who was borne to serve you, should ever be the occasion of your least discontent. The duty of a Cava­lier is not to ease but to remove and rid the afflicted from misery. How then can I endure, that you so deserving should be so unworthily dealt withall, whilst I more than any other am obliged to procure your con­tent? It was no vulgar fortune (sweetest Madame) that conducted mee hither, but that eternall moderatrix, to the end your wants might by my meanes be supplied, since Nature made mee a King to attempt it, dignity a Knight to effect it, and love an Orator to crave it at the hands of your promising-goodnesse: Let not your husbands jealousie any whit dismay you, for I will protect you both against him and all the world. Yet if you will not either credit or favour mee for the present, vouchsafe then (I beg of you) to command my stay here, till such time as after being ascertained of both my quality and affection, you may be pleased by accepting my service, to favour my desires.

The title of King wrought on the Princesse inclination as much (if not more) than the beauty and youth of this young Knight, but espying (with that) from a farre off the servants that came for her; My Lord (said shee) the time permits mee not to answer you, see yonder where my folke come, I pray you let them not see you, but lay your selfe downe disten­ded as you were. For the rest, since I may not pretend any authority over you, you may doe what suites best with your owne liking.

The Knight well comprehending that these speeches tended not to a refusall (to obey her) squatted close to the ground, following her never­thelesse with his eyes as farre as hee could see her, and fixing her shape and gesture so deepe in his thoughts, as hee had not for a good while the power to get up, affording thereby leisure to the Cavaliers (whom we left sitting under the trees shade) to finish their discourse.

By this time they two were retired to a place, whence they might (for doubt of being surprized by the Druide) see him as hee returned; and the [Page 26] Squires having withdrawne themselves, afforded them the convenien­cie and leisure of speaking freely; whereupon the other (losing no time) said unto the Count; I shall (noble Sir) recite you the strangest story that ever you heard or read of; wherein you may observe truely miserable effects, occasioned by youthfull passions, imaginations that corrupt health, mellancholy that physick abhorres, and in these the occasion too that I have to finde my selfe agreeved: Be then (Sir) pleased to under­stand, that among the Royall and Soveraigne Scepter-swayers of no lesse faire than fertile Albion, one of them is entitled King of Venedotia, who by a faire and vertuous wife had issue three sonnes and two daughters, whose comlinesse of personage and surpassing beauties were such, as al­though the Iland for these endowments beareth away the bell from all the people of the world, and Venedotia from the rest of the whole Iland, yet did the Royall House as farre againe surpasse that way all the Families of that Kingdome, as the condition of a Subject is exceeded by one who borne to superiority, beares the Royall thereof, which are titles and Crownes. The elder they waxed in yeares the more grew they (though borne all of one and the same body, and sprung all from one and the same seede, to differ in qualities, affections, and inclinations, to falsifie the common tenent, that arguments of the body can determine any ones wit and disposition: vertues and vices being here individually devided; insomuch, as, looke what portion of good was owned by some of them, even so much possessed the others of evill, and because there was a disparity in the number, badnesse would (without any nay) seize on the greater part, so as two of them being wholly inclined to vertue, the other three gave themselves altogether over to all lewdnesse and dishonest abomina­tions. The bringing up of them was in every respect equall, or if other­wise, yet but so much unequall or different as was due to the difference of the disequality of the sexes, since for the rest, as time, direction, and yeares, the one enjoyed not any priviledge more than the other: Their vertuous Father thinking it unfitting to bee partiall in the breeding of his children, sithence Nature had given them him without partialitie in bring­ing them into the world.

The last borne among the males was call'd Feredo, the very same you (in a Druid's habit) saw with me erewhiles; of the other two, the first-borne was named Edmondo, the other Galfrido. Scarce was Feredo full eighteene yeares of age, when Gelinda his eldest sister fell in love with him, whilst Edmondo and Galfrido (blinded with the like affection) doted on their younger sister named Adeligia. Full glad was the King to see his children so loving each to other, whilst hee (good man) was farre mistaken, for conceiving himselfe blessed in that, which made him after­wards an example of misery to all Fathers.

Gelinda nourished her fire so covertly that none could perceive it, nor durst shee indeede discover it to her brother, whose integrity (which was a naturall inclination to goodnesse) curb'd if not terrified her, besides her owne conscience accusing her of the deformity of her love. [...]ine would shee have shaken it off, when it shewing her the sweets of its delights, ever also multiplied by imagination, deprived her of the sight of her internall lights; no servant had Feredo more diligent about him than was his sister; [Page 27] for were he disposed to exercise himselfe in any feates of Chivalry, his officious sister (not trusting his Squires) would with her owne hands arme him; if arm'd hee hapned to be before, shee (forsooth) must goe [...]ite him; and if disarmed, 'twas shee that rub'd and dri'd him; were he [...] ride a hunting, shee would never leave him, but be his perpetuall compa­nion; no Roe-buck nor Grey-hound was to be found, that for velocity surpassed her or her swift Courser: no precipice could stop her careere; If descending shee were, shee seemed to precipitate; if running, to flee: In affronting wilde beasts shee alwayes prevented him, though then ever with a panting heart too, for being still jealous and fearefull of her owne in anothers life. In fine, shee so behaved her selfe, that Feredo had beene stupid, if he had not perceived the occasion of all these curtesies, instructed therein no more now by a vulgar prudence, but by the love of the other two brothers towards Adeligia; for which hee abhorring them, abhor­red also Gelinda for the selfe same regard, conceiting with himselfe, that the very thought of an affection so abominable was able to attaint him with guiltinesse. For the first remedy, hee determined to shunne her so­ciety, without taking on him to conceive her designes; so as hee continu­ed to ride a hunting, but without her company; whereat when he saw her grieve, he excused himself with displaying before her the inconvenience that time had laid before his consideration, how that a Princesse ambus­cadoed betweene hunters and savage beasts, incurr'd continually manifest hazard of her life; beseeching her therefore to stay at home; or if shee would needs goe, he wish'd it might be when her mother and sister went. This so over-chary circumspection pleased not well Gelinda, especially when shee once penetrated into the cause thereof. And hee on the other side (seeing that obstinate courtesie is wont to argue discourteously in who-so denies to accept it) knew not how to disenvelop himselfe other­wise than by the hope he had of weaning her from it by litle & litle with­out discontenting her.

The other Brothers (in the meane while) hotly sollicited Adeligia, whose shunning them could not serve her turne. Edmundo the elder and bolder of the two, had the audacity to expresse himselfe unto her one day in these speeches.

I know not wherefore I affecting you (Adeligia) farre more than a si­ster, you love not mee somewhat more than a brother. Whereto shee an­swered: (My Lord) if I lov'd not you, I should surely hate my selfe, yet if in loving you I surpassed the limits of a sisters love, I should then neither love my selfe nor you, but were worthy of both your hatred and scorne; The Prince could as then make her no reply, for his sister favoured with the occasion of her mothers comming (who the very same instant entred into the chamber) was rid of him for that time, though it steeded her not much (sithence hee still made use of any opportunity of meeting her) but much lesse Galfrido, for being the occasion of depriving him of the meanes of ever speaking to her any more. A resolution irkesome and heavy to one, but mortall to the other two; for the Brothers gone one day out on hunting, and in chasing the Hart (happening to be severed a good distance off the rest) the Prince made a stand, that Galfrido might passe before him, and then suddenly running him with his sword through and through, bare [Page 28] him sheere off his saddle, alighted that hee was off his horse to dispatch him, hee might perceive him starke dead before: Return'd home alone, the Father (who some dayes before had observed both the misaffections and disaffections of his sonnes) ranne with his imagination to the very truth; and giving thereupon order to some few (but trusty Gentlemen) to goe in search after him, he was the selfe same night found out, and carried into his chamber.

I will not take on me the taske of expressing his heavinesse, because the tongue is not a pensill to pourtray the griefe of a Father, to whom the death of one sonne may give just occasion of becomming cruell against the other. Having therefore called before him the Prince, he shewed him the corps, with asking him if he had slaine him: but seeing him deny it in away that argued somewhat of guiltinesse, he said unto him; he that makes no scruple to murther a Brother, will surely make no great conscience to tell a lye: the blood that at thy appearing gurled out of this wound, both convicts thee, and requires at my hands Iustice, which I will not deny it; Onely I am sorry that thy quality (in consideration of my selfe) permits thee no other executioner; with this, snatching out his sword (not as yet wiped fully dry from the blood of his Brother) hee ranne it in his heart; and then (causing them to be laid in two coffins) he strictly commanded, that this tragicall case might dye with his sonnes; charging all that knew it, to give out, that they were sick, and three dayes after dead of a pesti­lentiall fever.

Well might the feare of offending the King tye mens tongues (which are subject to sense) but not their judgements, which being internall and free, enjoy the priviledges of a free exemption from any humane domini­on: But the best was, that the Kingdome made no great reckoning of the losse of either, both of them being by their behaviour growne to be as unworthy of bemoaning as of life. But now the Sister (good soule) the innocent occasion of the evill, could not be either comforted or quieted, till her Father permitted her to retire to the Ile of Man, where under the discipline of certaine religious persons there residing, shee dedicated the rest of her dayes to a contemplative life. Onely Feredo now remain'd of the youngest the eldest, and his so being the sole sonne had more endeer'd him to his Father, if his other worthy qualities had not beene more singu­lar and respect worthy, than his being an onely Sonne.

Gelinda (having understood the true tragick story of her Brother (mor­tified her selfe a litle, or at leastwise somewhat deprest the growing fire of her affection from suggesting occasion of more disgrace: till seeing Fe­redo increasing together with his yeares, in comelinesse of person, vertue, and the love of all, shee deemed it very inconvenient for her to faulter in her affection. Banishing therefore from her memory the sufferings and shame of her Royall House, which till then taught her to be cautelous if not honest, shee began to prosecute her desires anew, with such fervent affection and winning-allurements, that the Fort of Feredo's constant goodnesse remain'd therewith shaken if not battered. But because in him goodnesse prevail'd more than youth, and continencie more than the in­tising baites of an enchanting love; he purposed (for clipping the wings of her incestuous hope) to goe live farre off her, praying his Fathers as­sent [Page 29] thereunto, under pretext of going to travell, which hee no sooner ask'd than obtain'd; for, the good old King (having noted his Daughters incestuous affection, and fearing the arising thence of some new accidents) found his absence for some time to bee to purpose, hoping that time would in that while dry up in her that ill humour with the medicine of ob­livion, or some other new affections easie to be exchanged for old, espe­cially (as hee imagined) in the inconstant nature of that amorous sex.

But Gelinda more constant than the vertue of constancie permitted her, obstinate in retaining her first designes, and resolved either to die or trans­mute Feredo from a brother to a lover; emboldened with her illegitimate love, and raised by her mortiferous resolution within a degree of the height of impudence, taking him from the company of some young Gen­tlemen that entertained him in discourse, and conducting him in her hand to the garden, shee thus bespake him.

I hold it (my Lord and Prince) a thing superfluous, to consume the small time I have to stay with you, in any other than a free and briefe language: sithence neither the growth of yeares have beene sufficient to give you notice of my affection, nor the late tragedy of our Brothers serv'd for a president to mollifie you, which me thinkes it should, if not for my loves sake, yet (at least) for the honour of our Father, our House, and our selves: you are now going to travell, for not having mee neere you, and conceit (perhaps) by so doing to shunne me; but (alas) you much deceive your selfe; for I am resolved, not onely to be neere you, but also closely to cleave to you, as doth your inseparable Genius or shadow; and if by vio­lence you discoast or avoide me, I will then so accoast and haunt you, as (doe what you can) you shall not shake me off; for, if it lye in the power of spirits to doe it, mine then perpetually shall doe it, since you will not permit my selfe to enjoy so much happinesse; Pity mee! oh! (I beseech you) pitie me, that without you am worse than nothing: nor let the de­formity of my love serve you for an excuse; for I sweare by the immortall Gods, that if you quite reject and abandon mee, I will when I am so scorn'd or hated, transforme me into a Fury, & will haunt you whitherso­ever you goe, nor will I (so it be within the reach of my power) suffer e­ver any other woman to enjoy you more than I.

Strucken dumbe remain'd Feredo with this so rash and dishonest propo­sition; about her eyes (as kindled embers) hee observed a deadly blewish palenesse, arguing a mortall rancor and gastly despaire; well knew he that neither reproach nor reproofe was able to terrifie one that feared not to dye, nor was hee lesse confident of her desperately-bold haste, which might easily raise her resolution to such a hight of frantick desperatenesse, as shee would not stick to kill her selfe; holding it therefore his safer course rather to shunne than hazard a certaine mischiefe, hee return'd her this milde answer.

Deere Lady and Sister, the love which I beare you is such, that if you knew it, you would then know you had no cause to thinke your selfe ag­grieved; I intend to part ('tis true) not to elong my selfe from you, but to be more worthily neere you, when the heavens shall be pleased to fa­vour my returne. Love (deere Sister mine) is not to bee required with hate, (as you seeme to doubt of) especially by me towards you, whom I [Page 30] (for many speciall reasons) am bound both to love and serve; all then that I begge of you, is, that (abandoning your passions) you unite your selfe to reason, which can of it selfe alone give you on my behalfe suffici­ent satisfaction. Doe then but discreetly remember (sweete Sister) who wee are, and what the name of a Brother imports in nature, law, and use; and next call to mind and consider the miserable end of the others, which should serve us for an example, not of imitation, but of detestation and horrour. Grant mee (I lovingly beseech you) your good leave to be gone on my intended journey, since I desire it may be with your free as­sent and good liking. And to the end you may rest fully assured of my true affection towards you, I here faithfully promise, that if it come to my hands to dispose of you (my Father not preventing me for manifesting my brotherly affection to you that way) I will spend all the Royall trea­sure, yea and my very Crowne besides, but I will see you well setled to your owne hearts desire.

Vpon this the King calling him hee left her, preparing himselfe to be­gin the morrow following his journey towards the Kingdome of Logria.

But shee (to whom brotherly admonitions were reproaches, courteous language abuses, and promises of a rich dowry an unappealeable sentence of death) putting on a manly courage, and laying aside all appearance of griefe, could so farre temper nay command her passion, as with unbeteared eyes to see him at parting, yea to salute him, and bid him her last farewell; and that in so free a way too, as made him thinke her an altogether altered woman; whereby he became so consolated, as hee could not refraine at his departing to drop some teares for meere unlook'd for joy, though gaz'd on by all the Ladies that stood by her, and accompanied (a good while on his way) by the flowre of the Nobility. But no sooner lost shee once the sight of him, than that shee remained as a statue cold, senselesse, and immoveable: Recovered out of her stupifying fit, shee retir'd to her bed-chamber too too delicious (God wote) for a sceane of so lugubrous an act. The returne of such as had sent Feredo on his way was the passing­bell that rang out her knill of death, the recommendations sent her from him, shee received with disdaine and contempt: and then presently (not having the patience or power to stay till night) shee put off her cloathes and laid her downe; where being (as shee thought) all alone, shee burst forth into these termes.

It is now time Gelinda for thee to free thy selfe from the tyrannie of thy insulting enemy [Love] 'tis high time that thou now revenge thy selfe on this thy neither brother nor lover. Come, thou must die, and that's no newes to thee; death shall not seize on thee at unawares. Thou shalt have the oddes of the rest of mortals, in being thy selfe thine owne Iudge, so freeing thy selfe both from the judgement of others, and from the quali­ties and diversities of deaths, being conditions that make unexpected death looke on the dying wretch with an aspect so fearefull and horrid. A great spirit as thine is will flight it, to be by it cruelly revenged on him, that no lesse cruelly than ungratefully hath injured thee. This said, shee would have kill'd her selfe, but thinking it too short a preamble for so dolefull an end, her despairing soule roaring from within her with an hor­rible and gastly noyse, shee proceeded.

[Page 31] Implacable Dieties, yee infernall Powers, to you have I (forlorne wretch) recourse, to you doe I bequeath and consecrate this re [...]ed life of mine, in recompence where of I desire no more, than that I may persue and haunt the ingratefull Feredo whithersoever he goes; put me no [...] implore the heavens or their influences; for if mortals (subject to the h [...]vie clog of a body, and by consequence ignorant and feeble) can domi­neere over them, what may then the immortall soules doe, which being separated from these imperfections, must needs be more powerfull, in re­spect of their habits corresponding to that privation? I grant too, that hu­mane judgement and discretion may perhaps shunne them, yet mighty yee, whose power hath no paragon, are able (I am confident) either to corrupt or alter them. But (alas!) if it prove not so to be, how ill then am I advised? yet how can I (that despairing hope) be possibly well advi­sed? whilst I beleeve revenge to have place among the infernall miseries, which to the damned might prove happinesse and glory, if glory and hap­pinesse had any accesse to those dismall horrors? Die I will, were it but to spite and grieve Feredo. But what place (I wonder) among the disor­dered confusions there, shall the order of my uncouth affections hold? Shall it be possible, that among those eternall disorders there, the soule be not confounded with all its parts, especially the intellect; and that also the order which I prefix to my revenge, be not in danger to be broken? But oh that the web I warpe here might be there spunne, for then would I thinke hell were blessed! and all would then goe thither; But who will assure me thereof? yet doubtlesse thy death (Gelinda) will grieve Feredo, will it so? dye then meerely to vex him. But soft, too too foolish were such a revenge, as but makes an addition to the avengers proper prejudice. But said I not, that hell observes no order? then no reason neither by reason of that disorder. If so, to what end tend then so many considera­tions? they are needlesse and superfluous, ('tis true) yet let them be dis­penced withall, in priviledge of being my last farewell. Here (respiting a while to vent out the anguish of approaching death) shee with a heavy groane spake on.

Happy thee Gelinda had'st thou never beene borne, since that being borne thou wast borne for hell, whose first torments thou proved'st when first thou fell'st in love: Yet if I deserved so much misery, had it not beene a greater paine for me not to have beene borne at all? if true it be, that such had beene greater than to be borne to be damned as I was? But ah me! if this were true, sure then I had never beene borne; for if among all the things that I am none of, there had beene but one, that in privation of being, had exceeded the not being of others, then surely that same one thing had beene Gelinda. Therefore Gelinda (to her greater anguish) be­leeves that such a thing cannot be. Besides, the Gods were unjust, if they punished such as were not any way blemished with as much as originall sinne.

Enough then! let these be my last meditations. Dye I must and will; Feredo will none of mee, no more will I him now, and for not having him I must goe else-where: The passage is (I confesse) hard, the issue doubt­full, but whatmatters all that? I'le even venture and runne with the rest; the Furies of hell shall direct mee, nay I'le make one among them, they [Page 32] shall adopt mee, and I'le be the fourth of those Eumenidan Sisters, which if it cannot otherwise steede me, it shall then suffice me, that the dise [...] teous Feredo be troubled in his sleepe, and in his repose, desire death the sole remedy to his heart-wasting miseries; and besides, that in his loves never woman beloved by him may ever love him, that some untimely end betide her not. More shee would have said, when one of her women (that all this while had attentively observed her) ranne towards the bed; at the first trampling noise of whose feere Gelinda stab'd her selfe under the left pap, with a long silver bodkin, where with shee used to righten her haire, but by her destined for this fatall effect, which succeeded her desire so well (if a man may say well in so ill a case) that slipping betweene her ribs, it pierced her heart; which prov'd now as tender to the force of hand, as it had before done to the dart of love.

The Gentlewoman that faw no signes of any violence done, and by consequence, not suspecting any such matter, did the best shee could to comfort her, till (seeing shee could get no answer of her) shee opened the windowes, and then seeing her looke so pale, shee was againe amazed; yet finding no drop of blood about her (though her lips and eyes looked of a pale blewish colour) shee gently tooke her by the hand, and respe­ctively kissing it, besought her to speake one word to her, but was answe­red with a gastly grone, wherewith shee expired, because of her wounded heart's being by then quite suffocated with blood.

The Gentlewoman searching over her body a-new, and yet finding no­thing, (considering that the occasion of her death was not to be divulged) shut the doore, and went and acquainted therewith the King; who, be­cause hee could not beleeve that shee died without violence, commanded to view her better, himselfe casting (the meane while) an eye on her pulses and paps, under one whereof as hee more heedfully observed, hee came to discover the bodkin by a litle blood that trickled off the orifice of the wound; and so comprehending the cause of her death, he charged that no words should be made thereof, giving out the morrow following, that shee was dead of an apoplexie.

Feredo in the meane time hastned on his journey (beleeving that the farther hee went from Venedotia, the neerer he came to content and qui­etnesse) till hee chanced to come to the famous Court of Logria; whose then King Alfrido observing him (besides the comelinesse of his person) to be endued with incomparable qualities, had a minde, at first sight, to make him his Son-in-law: for establishing the dominions which hee pos­sessed, lying open to divers hostile incursions, with the alliance and stay of a King, for territories and power next himselfe the greatest of all Al­bion.

One sole Daughter had he of some eighteene yeares of age, named A­lite; for beauty singular among the fairest; and one sonne (as then absent) addicted to exercises of Chivalry. No sooner was Feredo seene by her, than that shee began to affect him, seconding her Fathers secret designe with an honest open love: and the correspondencie (as it was fitting it should) had beene by him as forwardly repaid her, but that at his first com­ming thither he began suddenly to feele strange passions of mellancholy; which (transporting him to turbid imaginations) would never suffer him [Page 33] in quiet, for that he thought hee saw Gelinda every houre in an horrid shape with a naked and bloody brest settle her selfe by him, whether hee were laid in bed or walking any where abroad, so as he passed most nights without closing his eyes; which made him desire to watch with merry company, who upon his corrupted affects wrought just such an effect, as doth one single drop of water on one tormented with a burning feaver, that thinkes all the rivers of the world too litle either to coole his heate, or quench his thirst.

Many a time have I thought upon these visions, whether any such really be or no, and whether that which appeared was the very spirit of Gelinda, or nothing but the meere imagination of Feredo. For if the Gods permit the dead to walke, why more for hatred than for love, since we heare not (for the most part) of any such apparitions, save in the likenesse of such as have come to their deaths by violent meanes? betweene husband and wife, father and sonne, brother and brother, and friend and friend (in whom Nature and long practice imprint reciprocall affections with greater efficacie) wee seldome or never heare of any such, though they should be ordinary. Which though they also were, yet could they then neither be no arguments making for imagination, and use would discover unto us those of reason, Nature being not able to worke ordinarily by ex­traordinary reasons, contrary to it selfe.

The Count who attentively listned, seeing him looke as if he expected an answer, said unto him: Nature (gentle Sir) cannot give a reason for all things, as (it seemes) you expect it should, since we have for attaining to it onely the two meanes of the practick and speculation. By the practick we cannot, shee requiring time, and we being short-liv'd. By speculation much lesse, she never soaring higher than the pitch of sense. Hence comes it, that our common knowledge (obscure even in things manifest) is sub­ject to the censure of contradictions, where of such as were Antagonists choosed for the surer side, rather to doubt of all, than to affirme any thing for certaine out of the uncertainty of our understanding; and the same knowledge, though in much deceivable, is yet neverthelesse embraced for want of a better, which well may (I beleeve) be hoped for, but not found by the meanes of humane organs without a long and almost eter­nall life.

If then we be so ignorant in things subject to our very senses, what can we be in those of the soule abstracted from them? yet should not (for all this) the insufficiencie of meanes of attaining to the knowledge of things make us deny their effects, if any be; and yet the curiosity of seeking out for them is hurtfull, because speculation too much subtilized makes a man unfit not only for the active, but even for the contemplative life; so as if he be but short in conceiving the first heads, he becomes quite dull by that time he comes to the second; so blunted shall hee finde his intellect with the hardnesse of what hee understands not; therefore a mans choyser course were to rest at quiet, and to beleeve that which common opinion both drawne from all the lawes, and approved by all the prime School­men of the world in all ages, induceth us to beleeve; which if otherwise it were not so, this Prince his very case might be a sufficient argument for it. Since hee was in perfect health when he came from home, nor was he [Page 34] ever troubled with any infirmity of his fancie, till after the death of his Sister, and then too without knowing whether shee were dead or no. So as we must of necessity, either deny all, and by consequence make the Prince a lyar; or in beleeving him, beleeve the generall terient, which is a reall apparition of the dead, a beleefe due to the obedience of the Lawes.

The Gentleman that stood listning unto him, litle satisfied with what was alleadged, and loath to let the discourse fall, replied. My doubt (ho­nour'd Sir) neither toucheth nor arrives to the law, but is (as I may say) an abstract from it; touch it perhaps it might, if it were incorporated with it, and partaked of its substance and colour, as wine doth with those of water. The lawes have all of them the selfe same principals and the selfe same ends (at leastwise in appearance) that is, God and good dealing or piety, the end of this is to feare those. It will not be denied mee, that apparitions belong to piety, and by consequence make wonderfully for it: my doubt doth but question the power of Nature; for, if Nature could but be united or conform'd to the Law in things supernaturall, and that what the one affirmes might be visually proved by the other, then had neither wee occasion to doubt, nor the Lawes to multiply as they have e­ver hitherunto done; so as all that I say, is, but to attempt their union, (if it may be) if not, I rather retire to the Law, being well assured that in so doing I cannot erre, though the intellect remaine (for all that) subject to be snapp'd at by its naturall enemy [ignorance.] Let it not then (I be­seech you courteous Sir) offend you, that I say, that the denying of the effects of things (when any such really are) is but an ignorant presumpti­on. Now our question is, whether any such be or no: but how can they be, if neither reason nor sense comprehend them? Nature shewes them us not, the intellect conceives them not, the relations of them are uncer­taine, & the Prince his example absolutely concludes them not; conclude them perhaps it might, had he not knowne his Sisters intention. But be­cause imaginations cannot be fully illustrated otherwise than imaginati­ons, I will fall againe to my story.

Alfrido having had intelligence of the death of Gelinda by the Fathers owne letters, endeavoured (by charging all the Court to make no words of it) to conceale it from Feredo, though hee become by his continuall visions most certaine (as he thought) of the truth, incessantly bewailed it with such excesse of griefe, that hee at length conceived Gelinda's ghost (seeming to be therewith in some sort appeased, if not satisfied) had left him in quiet. How be it he could not for many dayes recover himselfe from the great weaknesse he thereby was reduced unto. To weane him from those his mellancholy fits, hee was accompanied with all the Court by turnes; Alite shewing her selfe in a deede so pious more fervent than a­ny other, though most cruell to herselfe; for her continuall conversing with this right noble Cavalier, kindling every day more than other her affection towards him, brought her at last to that passe, as shee could no longer conceale it from him.

Feredo was in one respect a naturalist, desirous of posterity, especially in consideration of his being brotherlesse, insomuch as he began already to be sorry he had left his home, not for being taken with any domestick [Page 35] pleasures, but because he (considering to how many dangers travell was subject unto) would gladly first have seene a sonne of his owne, to secure the succession, in case the heavens disposed of him otherwise than well. Looking therefore with a no lesse judicious than amorous eye into the me­rits and affection of the faire Alite, he thought himselfe bound to assure her as much as by words could be express'd, of the gratefull correspon­dencie of his re-affection, entitling himselfe her Knight and servant.

The night following arose a tempest so cruell, that at the ayre's being filled with haile, thunder, and lightning, the better halfe of the Citie was burnt amidst a deluge of water, and the innocent Alite strucken with a thunder-bolt, found on the morrow in her naked bed converted to ashes. The desolation of the Court, the griefe of the King, the complaint of the Queene, and the ruine of so faire a Citie, would have moved even Tigers to compassion; and Feredo that thought himself the sole cause of all these disasters, & raving exceedingly thereat, banishing all further hope of for­tune or content, abandoning his servants, and all that ever he had secretly stole away from this destroyed Citie, when poasting to the next haven, hee suddenly embarked himselfe on the first ship that launched out, which was bound for Gallicia, whence travelling whither fortune carried him, he came to Catalonia, making his first residence in the Citie of Barcelona.

To acquaint you with his designes or intentions for parting from Logria so unaccompanied and unattended, and wherefore thence to Gallicia and so to Catalonia, without any regard of his quality, or determinate end of his intentions, would prove but superfluous, nor are you to expect of mee any reason for it; for that desperation and love worke not by any reasona­ble or orderly meanes.

Scarce was hee come, when eyed by the Catalan Prince, and in him ob­served his disposition, and a certaine majestie, farre different if not contra­ry to his then present-seeming fortune; a humour tooke that Prince to have him (for certaine ends of his) to the service of the Princesse his wife, and Feredo (thinking thereby to vaile himselfe from the eyes of both the world and fortune) willingly accepted of the proffer. Become so from a Prince a subject, and from an onely sonne a punie servant, sealed this me­tamorphosis with his name, which hee by altering Feredo into Calaplo, en­deavoured with his present condition to raze out the memory of his past misfortunes; hoping to appease at full his Sisters Ghost with the severi­ty of such a penance: Wherein (for now seeing himselfe no more tor­mented) hee grew to be so confirm'd, as he resolved with himselfe never to returne home more, conceiting that very place to be subject more than any other to the influence of his horrible visions.

Few moneths had he continued in that Court, when Don Peplasos (for so was the Prince called) taking him with one other Gentleman and a Gentlewoman in his company, went with his wife on pilgrimage to the Temple of the Goddesse Iuno, in the Pyrenean Mountaines. That Prin­cesse was one of the fairest and most vertuous Ladies of the world; but for antipathy of qualities extreamely hated of her husband, who being resol­ved to rid himselfe of her, intended to have her slaine in those Mountains, and then by procuring at the selfe same time the death or flight of Calaplo, to make the world beleeve, that shee being enamoured of him, was runne [Page 36] away with him, hoping this report would bee the rather beleeved in re­spect of his comelinesse and bodily perfections, and much more, for that hee having beene with mortall passions wooed by the fairest and noblest Dames of all that Kingdome, had (poore as hee seemed to be) rejected great fortunes in marriage, which (would be thought) hee did meerely for the correspondencie of affection, hee hoped for at the hands of the Princesse Eleina, a worthy occasion of slighting that of all the rest.

But come to the Temple, and considering that two murthers could not (without great danger) be committed in one and the same time, hee gave Calaplo a litle wallet stuff'd full of Coyne and Iewels, brought thither (it should seeme) for that purpose, together with a menacing charge contai­ned in a few words, but concluding, that without any reply he should take it, and get him gone so farre as hee might never be more seene nor heard of. Hee not imagining the occasion of it, knowing the Prince to be no lesse mischievous than cruell, and therefore doubting lest his denying to take the wallet might prove dangerous unto him, thought it his best course to obey him; so as taking it with prompt obedience from before him, hee set himselfe onwards on his way which the Prince himselfe had shewed him. But passing the day following from mountaine to mountaine, and chancing to see in a deep bottome that vallied a steeper precipice, a bare-foote and bare-legg'd woman weeping, (whom upon better observance hee discovered to be the Princesse) which as he thought to turne back to succour, he was set upon by three (as he then thought) high-way theeves, but were indeede man-butchers sent purposely thither (for ought I be­leeve) by the Prince; whereof hee having at the first blow laid one a­long at his feete, and with the sight thereof put the second to flight, the third remaining alone, thought to save himselfe by the nimblenesse of his heeles, till Calaplo being now justly enraged, by obstinately pursuing him, overtooke him (after a full leagues race) with a blow so mortall, that depriving him both of speech and breath, hee could make no answer to any thing he asked him. Endeavouring to returne to the Princesse, hee could by no possible meanes finde out either her, or the place where hee had left her; but resolved to leave no where thereabouts unsearched for her, and comming by chance (as hee enquired for her all about) to the sea-shore, he had tidings of her by certaine fisher-men, who had seene her (a-farre off) made a prize by Pirats. Whereupon reputing himselfe a compend of miserie, and conceiting that he could not choose but infect with his very presence all such as he should ever but converse withall; he resolved with himselfe at last (after he had bestowed in the search of her foure other moneths in Africk, where most Pirats have ther residence) to retire to some-where farre remote from his native home, and there to end the remnant of his dayes. Crossing over therefore into Sicily, hee thence arrived into this litle Iland, and judging it commodious for his pur­pose, hee by the permission of the Prince of Feacia, (who is Lord there­of) made this his resting place, reducing it which before was savage, into the state you at this present finde it in, bestowing therein the best part of his time to withdraw his minde from more noysome fancies.

The King his Father thus deprived of five children, three of them come to untimely ends, a fourth dedicated to the Gods, and the fifth a [Page 37] lost childe, whom (after hee had caused him to be sought for, though in vaine, over the greater part of the knowne world) hee had utterly de­spaired of ever hearing any newes of, had he not beene consolated with new hopes, springing from the voluntary proffers of certain Knights, who bound themselves by solemne oath never to returne home, unlesse they found him out, or heard certaine newes what became of him: which comming to the eares of others, the company increased to the number of fifty (where of I am one) dividing (by unanimous assent) our selves over all the Countries of the world, with order to send and give intelligence at a place by us agreed on, for that end. Fortune would so have it that I found him out, though to my as yet but small comfort: for though the King will be glad to heare that he lives, yet will he be extreamely sorry, when hee understands that hee will not returne home, he pretending to passe here a blessed life, and thinking the shades of these trees here to be the Elizean fields, for having never seene here abouts any apparition of Gelinda. And alleadging withall, that since he is resolved never to marry, his returne would be but unprofitable to the Kingdome, troublesome to himselfe, and prejudiciall to her he might match withall, in case that upon altered determination he might be perswaded to resolve of a further triall in that kinde.

Much wondred the Count at the strangenesse of the story, and comfor­ting the Knight, hee promised him to stay there some dayes of purpose, to further him in his designes. But scarce had hee opened his mouth to re­quite this story of the Knights, with the relation of his adventures, when he might espie issuing from out one part of the wood Feredo, and from out the other the young Knight. Arisen up, they went to meete the later that was next them: After reciprocall salutes, and complementall lan­guage past of either side, the Venedotian Knight invited the young Knight to dine with the Druide; (shewing him, with that, Feredo) the young Knight espying him, and well-liking his garb and habit, went onwards to give him the meeting: And hee understanding they were none of those that came to seeke him, received them with extraordinary courtesie, with thanking them kindly for the favour they did him. Then would hee have them mount on horse-back to get up the hill, thinking all of them there­withall provided; but seeing the Count want one, he told him, hee was sorry for it, the heate being great, the sunne of a good hight, and that day as faire and calme, as the preceding night had beene foule and tempe­stuous.

The young Knight was so farre from following his advice, as he blush'd to heare him, whilst his proud Steede by his pransing seemed to invite the Knights, to prove whether hee were as good, as well shaped. The heate put them off their ceremonies, by causing them to hasten to gain the shade not farre off them under a thick row of trees, that began at the foote of the hill, which Nature had all about adorned with choyse vines. The way to ascend had planted orderly on each side thereof (like so many halber­diers) fruite-bearing trees worthy the being grafted by a Princely hand; the hillocks top yeelded a fragrant od our from its faire crown of Orenge­trees; flowers might there be seene laid scatteringly over the surface of the earth, in such a forme as the starres are placed in the firmament, seem­ing [Page 38] to lie glorying in their rich shew, encamped in pavements embroyde­red with odoriferous hearbs contrived into divers figures.

The first part of the habitation that presented it selfe to the eye, was the Temple, round in forme, and rough-cast without as farre as its Architrave with fine white lime, supporting a ranke of finest white marble pillars, or­derly placed by two and two, with so much distance betweene them, as sufficed to afford it light; the spire-roofe having no other opening, nor the round body of the Chappell other windowes. Vpon the pillars (which were foure and twenty) was displayed a thinne border of fine skie-colour'd mettle, divided into twelve equall spaces, every space where of conteyning one signe of the Zodiake, was againe subdevided by very small lines into 30 Degrees, the first point of Aries touching the last of Pisces in the very midst of the Frontispice. About this border might bee seene to gire the two celestiall lights, the one colour'd with gold, the other with silver, with an Index towards the lowermost surface of their circumference, which precisely pointed out the place, which the true lights posses'd in that very instant in the celestiall Zodiake. There might a man see all the aspects in their proper characters. Moreover, the Moone (for the better fitting her conjunctions) had an ampler gire than that of the Sunnes; nor could it have other in respect of us, though it were contrary to the spheare in respect of the firmament: that same thing representing in the artificiall the convex, which indeede is naturally the concave; the eclipses likewise might be there seene (when any were) by a plate of darke-coloured Iron's covering so much of the Moone as was re­quisite. The figure of the Sunne (drawne to a correspondent circumfe­rence) corresponded to the truth of the Eclipses of the true Sunne, cove­red or rather vailed by his fister, according to astronomicall suppositions. And being not able to imitate the spheare in setting and rising, it shewed instead thereof the eclipses, that were out of our sight in the other He­mispheare.

Vpon the spiry roofe stood a brazen statue of excellent workemanship, representing time, that in its footestall with the but-end of its cive struck the houres and quarters, with so dainty an artifice, as the eare could dis­cerne no noyse of counterweights or wheeles, nor the imagination con­ceive that any such could be contained in the streightnesse of so narrow a concave. The doores standing one of them towards the East equinocti­all, and the other on the opposite, side, were both of them adorned with seemely pillars, the Easterne of snow-white Alablaster with staires, threshold, and lintell of the same. The Westerne with its supplements of a cole-black touch-stone; that garnished with a white Eagle, being the Hieroglyphick of heaven, this with a barking Cerberus sad embleame of hell, never opened but when sacrifice was done to the infernall Deities for Gelinda's ghost. For the same purpose also stood erected two Altars, and on either of them an Image.

These briefly survaid, all of them entred into the Temple, where the sacrifices were the hearts of two white doves, burnt upon the quick em­bers; that done, they retired to the house, and were invited to sit at the table, where the two guests were strucken with amazement at the ser­vants and order of service; they admired at such abundance without ex­cesse, [Page 39] and such delicacie without defect; and withall, to see conform'd to the humility of faire white earthen dishes such a royall personage, place, and service. The Druide entertained them with pleasant discourse, ap­parelling his countenance with an aspect to outward seeming cheerefull and blithsome; shewing them withall, how that Countrey was the ut­most bound of Greece to the sea-ward; and then made them a gratefull expression of the great courtesies hee had received at the hands of the Prince of Feacia Lord of that Ile, and was about to particularize some­what thereof, when altering his conceit upon turning towards the Count, hee besought him to impart some occurrences of the Westerne parts, it being ten yeares space, sithence he had heard any newes from thence.

The Count willingly embracing the occasion of assaying to perswade him to returne home, making no shew of knowing any thing thereof, ex­prest a forwardnesse to satisfie him; so as having made some prelueds pro­per to his ends, he spake in this manner.

Irinico King of Gaula Belgica had besides two sonnes (the eldest where­of died) one onely daughter, whose beauty (though singular) was yet surpassed with so many vertues, that the people thought her the compend of the Kingdomes glory; desired shee was of many, wooed by few, and wonne by one that was litle thought of; among her Suitors, the princi­pall man was Teuton King of Scandinavia a Prince, who though rich both in yeares and posterity, was not yet by his yeares brought to any disability of body; and now his disgusts which hee received every day more than other from his sonnes, made him desirous of new heires, since hee was growne resolute to raise wals against wals, till he had levelled with the ground those, which (to his confusion) were by them built against him, a thing practised by him many yeares before to the cost of the lives of some of them, and the brothers too. Now hee had already taken many wives, and had used them all very ill, as indeede hee married them not for love, but altogether for meanes, nor ever admitted he any one of them to his bed on other, than the sole hopes of their patrimoniall Kingdomes, which conformable to his expectation failed him not. Knowne it is not whether it was pollicie or nature in him to affect not one of them, the sole ayme of his love being levelled at the enlarging of his Monarchie, and making himselfe great.

Hee had already by the meanes of some Kings of his alliance, gotten a great footing in neighbouring Countries; whereupon growne desirous to become one day owner of Irinico's Kingdome, hee made suit for his alliance, meerely to ground thereupon a foundation for his pretentions, and not to enjoy those incomparable beauties, the onely white whereat the desire of all other Princes aymed. And having gotten an use of letting himselfe to be seene but of a very few, by withdrawing himselfe some­times (for many moneths together) from the popular sight, a fancie tooke him in the head to goe himselfe in person to Irinico, and so (under the vaile of an Embassadour) to prie into the secrets of his Kingdome, corrupt his subjects, and winne himselfe a wife, and by her in time a Kingdome.

Having then left such order as he thought requisite to such as were to manage the secrecie of his absence, hee parted, accompanied with very few, increasing by the way his retinew with such persons as had never [Page 40] seene him before; travelling with all the litle that he went by land, so se­cretly by an invention that he had got, to confine himselfe for some retired imaginations within his horse-litter, that no man in the whole dominions could come to see him in the face.

Irinico receiving him with all possible courtesies, understanding the summe of his embassie would not suddently dispatch him (though he were already resolved of what he meant to doe) but referr'd the businesse to his privy Councell, not so much to understand their opinions, as to know those who (some while before) were suspected to have beene corrupted.

Hee (in the meane time) being admitted to the sight of the Princesse, prov'd to be in love; indeed a strange effect in him, and yet more strange by reason of his so fretting thereat; for, perswading himselfe that he could not choose but love his owne person the lesse, by such a portion of affecti­on as he setled upon any other; so as hee could have heartily wished the possiblenesse of distinguishing the person of a Prince from that of an Em­bassadours, had beene within the reach of his power, that so in persona­ting either, he might exercise his cruelty over the other. But love (as the case stood) domineering over the fury of his furious projects, brought his pride to so low an ebbe, as from a States-man he would have gladly sub­jected his stout spirit to any inferiour servile condition, had it not shewed it selfe too too apparantly contrary to the issue of his desires.

No whole day suffered he to passe without visiting Doricrene, this solli­citous Embassadour labouring to gaine the favour of her affection to his Prince, which was himselfe, who for being more than ordinarily enrich'd with a buffonizing and jearing humour, was generally in all companies a most welcome companion; for, laying aside all gravity, hee served for a make-sport, not onely to the Princesse, but to all the Court besides; in­somuch as Irinico himselfe (taking pleasure therein) liked his company marveilous well, and withall affected very much his way of expressing himselfe so different from those of other men, for that he never spake but by figures and proverbs, applied with particular acutenesse, with signifi­cations ever-equivocating to be solved as he pleased; (it being indeed but reason for the speaker to be his owne words interpreter) his countenance, carriage, and habit speaking him to be one that cared for nothing; and though he indeede was rather a Sophister than a Philosopher, yet seemed he by his outward expression of himselfe, to be meerely composed of re­fined Court-philosophy. Speake he would the plaine truth when he was sure there was no credit given to what he spake, yet blush'd he not to lye loudly, when it made any way for his ends, both the one and the other alwayes most false and deceitfull like himselfe; litle gave he, though hee promised much, yet the freenesse of his carriage in what he did, grounded in mens conceits, a foundation for the performance of his large promises. A marveilous sower hee was of soaring hopes, from which since there sprung nought else than briars and nettles, he imputed the fault to their ill husbanding, deferring the harvesting both of them and of other new seede to the ensuing yeare. Yet with all his shifts and devices he had ne­ver the fortune to arrive to the hight of his first designe, the true artifice of accomplishing such, consisting indeede either in not having any double meaning, (which is the sure way) or in a handsome way of concealing it, [Page 41] which is full of difficulties; or being otherwise accompanied with ex­cessive promises, it dismembers it selfe and becomes subject to the brand of incredulity.

Now Irinico had (long before this) made choyse for his Son-in-law of the King of Vlmigaria, a Prince of knowne great dignity, whom hee thought might serve him for a strong linke in the long chaine by him fore­contrived on that part of Europe in barre of the growing power of Teuton; and therefore hee so crept slily on with his pollitick reaches, dissembling being a prime article in gaining or establishing the possesion of Kingdomes; and thought that the affinity with that other King carried with it apparent advantages, yet the counter-poysing disadvantages proceeding from it, were also so apparent, nay so palpable, that an ordinarily discreete perso­nage (much more such a sage Prince as he was) would have not only refu­sed but abhorred the alliance of such a froward old man, ill reported of, and worse conditioned, cruell to his wives, brothers, and children; be­sides the consideration of the likelihood of making away the Prince Eli­mante by sword or poyson, the Princesse being capable of succession, and sole heire in case her brother were dead.

Well perceived Teuton (though somewhat of the latest) that his was a journey vainely bestowed, being secretly advertized, that Doricrene was otherwise to be disposed of, so as he now comprehends how his ex­pences in that Kingdome (in hope of furthering his affaires) was but mo­ney cast away; his dependences and those of his faction being not onely suspected, but most of them knowne, so that therefore his stay there could not be otherwise than very chargeable, as the profit hee could expect or hope to gaine thereby could be (in comparison of his charge) but very small; nay (which spited him most) that Irinico himselfe laughed (as we say) in his sleeve to see his subjects and state enriched by his ill-founded projects and bounty. Resolved for such reasons to alter his first determi­nation, he fained the receiving of new commissions importing,

That his King had commanded him (sithence he had not, all that while, concluded the marriage) suddenly to returne homewards, his yeares now disswading him from matching any more; howbeit that he should assure Irinico of his friendship, in a degree no lesse than if the affinity had beene contracted; and in case he saw him enclined to a crosse match, to proffer him his Daughter Celene for Elimante.

To this last proposition Irinico willingly listned, & (licensing the seem­ing Embassadour with many presents) willingly embraces the offer.

As soone as Teuton came home, he sends back thither an expresse Em­bassadour, giving him charge to keepe the marriage from concluding as long as he could, and yet to subscribe to promise all rather than breake off.

The faire Doricrene was (in the meane time) married to her designed husband, abandoning unwillingly her deere Countrey, and deere Brother; a match lesse fortunate than corresponded to the merit of so accomplish'd a Princesse, and indeede the unfortunate and deceiving effect of humane prudence. Before these nuptials, pictures of her were spread farre and neere over the greater part of the world, so as there was not a Prince that therewith adorned not the most conspicuous wall of his Pallace, to re­joyce and recreate by the eyes the internall senses of the heart with an ob­ject [Page 42] of such an excelling beauty; onely Durislao King of the Sarmatians, was that one, that taking it away from the common view, stored it up in a secret place, thinking it sacriledge to prophane an image by him reputed celestiall, so much, as to suffer it to be exposed to the survey of the pur­blind eye of popular judgement. And growing to like it every day more than other, he at length arrived to that passe, as he knew not whether he were more enamoured of the true Doricrene which he had never seene, or of her (by him so continually courted) picture. When at any time he re­solved to absent himselfe from his Realme to goe to Gaule to see the ori­ginall, he had not the power to stirre when he came but to take a farewell of the Coppy, conceiting he could not be present with the one, as long as he was absent from the other; nay he would sweare, it did stirre, rejoyce and grieve too, according as it saw the disposition of his affection enclined; to such a point of insensibility had amorous superstition reduced him un­to, in beleeving false imaginations (the Meteor of his desires) to bee the true effects of sense and reality. But when he heard shee was married in Vlmigaria with a neighbouring diffident Prince, and one whose domini­ons bordered with his, hee was like to dye with hearts-grefe, rage, and spite; and had resolved (even then suddenly) to have either forcibly ta­ken or stolen her away, if the extreame griefe which he conceived there­at, had not (by corrupting his health) stopt the current of that his enter­prize.

The faire picture exposed then to any ones view, was placed in his sight, at his beds feete, where he two moneths lay sick, nor had he then risen, but for the comforts of his uncle Teuton, who upon information re­ceived of its cause, sent to tell him;

Hee wondered the fierce Sarmatia could so much degenerate from it selfe, as to have insteede of a martiall King a dejected lover; who for cer­taine could not possibly be other than a changeling, being those of his Royall Family and blood were never owners of soft & effeminate hearts; which if otherwise hee were indeed a true branch of so Royall a stocke, that hee should then rouze up his spirits and be well, since both lay in his power; warranting him, that the noyse of trumpets would soone awake him from his dump of heavinesse, and a contrary imagination as soone re­store him to his former health, his love being no other than a meere con­ceit, and his sicknesse an effect of the like cause: Adding (for his more comfort) that he himselfe had also sought her to wife, but had since with more wholsome counsell withdrawne from her his affection; wishing him to doe the like; or if affection in him (for being the younger man) bare somewhat a greater sway, yet should its force be weakened, by conside­ring, that if he could leave and slight her when the effect thereof was pos­sible, much rather then should this nephew of his desist from an impossi­ble enterprize, necessity teaching him to forget her, and amorous disdaine to abhorre her now that shee was enjoyed by another; or if all this yet sufficed not, yet should he not droopingly abandon himselfe to griefe and heavinesse, but like a brave Bull winne her from out the hands of his rivall, and deprive him not onely of her, but also of his scepter, state, and life. Since Kings have no other law than their wils, nor other Iustice than power and Armes, the rest being but old-wivestales, and fables of weake [Page 43] and heartlesse men. Promising if he (like himselfe) bravely resolved to doe thus, that then hee should see how he would shew himselfe to be an uncle unto him, they being both of the same family, and having now a joynt colour of quarrell against one and the same enemy; and withall, that he was (for his part) content to let him have to himselfe, and owne toge­ther with his Mistresse, the booty, honour, and conquest.

This embassie delivered, up got Durislao off his bed, perswasion being a hard Chizell to ding out of his fancie his amorous conceit, and a sharpe spurre to prick him on to disdaine and anger; that sweete love-comman­ding countenance, that before with its sweet perfections so ravished him, seemed loathsome to him, now that violent passions were chased away by their opposites extreame ones; the faire picture rent off his bed was un­rooted from out his heart, and the disdaine that succeeded in its place (kin­dled by the remaining sparkles) flash'd up with an outragious fury.

Behold we now Sarmatia resounding all over with the death-menacing clattering of Armes, and her vaste Champion-fields covered with swar­ming troupes of man and horse; Fame which saw them mustered (carry­ing the newes thereof from the next adjacent to the remoter Regions) caused peace to retire to the heavens at the appearance from out their a­bisse of the infernall Furies, with all the rabble of their haggish traine.

There was betweene Vlmigaria and the other neighbouring Kings a strong defensive league, wherein, though the enemy were not expressely named, yet their intent levelled at Teuton and Durislao; so as at the first notice of the being of so great an army on foote, they hudled together a great number of bodies though few hearts, and each of these few too go­verned by its feares, and by their inducement rather inclined to truce than fight; whence sprung the source of all the ensuing evils: for, humane pru­dence teacheth us to embrace peace till it begin to appeare prejudiciall un­to us; but the dice once cast, the true Cavalier cannot (without exposing himselfe to dangers) manifest his valour, since life and fame cannot equally be cared for.

Durislao appeared on the confines, where he found Defendants enough, or such at least as seemed to be such; who gave him battell, lost it, and fled, or rather indeede fled ere they lost it. The extolled prudence of their Generall, so many yeares before in estimation incomparable, being now tried by a true touch-stone, discovered the falsenesse of its mettle; the mountaines-promising valour of so many Princes that under their pavilli­ons seemed to be invincible, as soone as it now appeared in open field was beaten downe and trampled, or (at least) put to flight, choosing to lose (rather than hazard their lives) both their dominions, friends, and liber­ties; yet among all these evils, there was one good thing, that the more base and dastard spirits (preventing the time) gave (by their running away the first) time to the Court to save it selfe by flight, the City being unable to defend it under the command of so faint hearts: their greatest care was to informe themselves, whether the enemy had as yet entred into or sac­ked the Citie, the terrour whereof so wrought upon their timerousnesse, as many of them forgot their very children in their cradles.

The sweetly-majesticall Queene seeing things reduced to such a point, the Citie and Kingdome lost, the women weeping, and the men standing [Page 44] staring about them with beteared eyes, and so confusedly crowded toge­ther, as their disorderly swarming might endanger their escaping with safety: Shee (mounted on horse-back) said thus unto them.

I have no cause to wonder at my women, whose weapons are their teares, but at you, who being Knights by your profession, had not the cou­rage to defend them, and yet now discover your effeminatenesse so far, as to imitate them in weeping; I can doe no lesse than be astonished; yet (now that I consider it) you doe well; for, it may chance to save your lives, since the enemy (how litle generous soever he be) will scorne to embrue his warlike sword in such cowardly blood as yours. Here without staying for any answer, shee (putting onwards her Steede) spurr'd away, much repenting, shee had not made one in the battell, her heart giving her, that her very presence there had prevented the disaster.

Durislao (having gotten so easie a victory) with his Lance in rest mar­ched in brave order towards the City, where he found the gates wide o­pen, and no man that durst either gainesay or withstand him; yet seeing himselfe deprived of his hoped-for spoyles, now thought himselfe to bee rather the conquered than conquerour. Egg'd on therefore by his old love-fits, kindled by the ancient fire that lay raked up in the ashes of his contrary resolution, hee spurr'd onwards to overtake the runne-away Court troupe, who followed by their King, (having abandoned their pe­culiar charges) had betaken themselves to the speedy legges of their swift Coursers. Discovering the baggage, he hoped to finde there Doricrene, but found nothing answerable to his expectation, there being no other than persons of servile conditions, indifferently unworthy of either his love or hatred. Here understanding for a certaine, that hee could not o­vertake her (for his comming too late, and her having farre out-strip't him, and that in a crosse-way too) he stop't his course, taking no joy in any thing hee had got, sithence he had lost her, the sole booty that he made any e­steeeme of.

Whilst hee stood a good while fix't in this imagination, love opened unto his apprehension the doore of humanity, by laying open to his medi­tation's-consideration, a Queene, a great Kings daughter, deprived of her dominions, forced to flye, and wander through woods and uncouth parts, without having (now that shee had lost her baggage) as much as cloathes to shift her withall; whereat hee could not refraine from drop­ping out teares amaine; not love now, but meere humanity, a generous spirit, and native nobility ministring him this subject of condoling. Cau­sing therefore the cariages to advance under the convoy of a strong troupe of horse, hee commanded them to present them her from him, offering her there withall his Royall person to be her knight and servant.

The faire Doricrene gotten out of the Citie, never once turn'd back to looke on it, so diligent was shee in her speedy course, for not falling into the hands of her well-wishing enemy, and unbeloved lover: Onwards galloped she all-alone foremost of all the company, without either drop­ping a teare or breathing a sigh; but yet her fiery eyes kept every one a­loofe off her, shee being (for her disposition) generally knowne to owne a generous heart, that never made reckoning of any losses how heavy so­ever; so as what now troubled her minde was onely the dasterlinesse of [Page 45] her forces, and their misbehaving themselves; and now shee fled without knowing or caring whither, when at the King's stopping his horse, all the rest made a stand.

My friends (said he) our trouping in this manner were good, if we were to fight, but not to save our selves by flight, as we must doe; we are (yee know) unprovided of victuals, which if we chance to light on by the way, yet will there not be enough for all of us; our better course therefore were, to separate our selves, and take every one of us that way fortune shall direct him in; and if the Gods shall ever hereafter behold me with a more propitious eye, I will then remember such as have well served mee. Here licensing and embracing them one after another, he burst forth into such a passionate weeping, that the Queene become thereat impatient, girked her Palfrey and so (followed onely by one Gentle woman) in an instant got out of all their sights: Away shee rode shee knew not whither, onely shee (as neere as shee could ghesse) directed her course towards that starre which the King at their parting seemed to tend his too, till losing the sight thereof at her entring into a Forrest, shee committed her selfe to the discretion of her horse, who (somewhat after mid-night) brought her to a litle dwelling, where she stopp'd her pace, and espying some light there, shee threw her selfe off her horse, her Gentlewoman not being able to a­light without helpe; peering then through the key-hole, shee might see an old hermit, that praysed God with unfained devotion, and so attentive­ly, as he heard not the trampling of the horses, nor had hee but for the neighing of one of them heeded them when he did; but then, not stay­ing till they knocked, he courteously opened the doore, without asking who was there: No sooner saw hee the guest, than that hee (used to the splendor of Royall Majesties) fail'd litle in ghessing what shee was, con-Ceiving in an instant the merits, if not the titles of so high a presence: Ta­king then a light in his hand, he went out, cloathing his countenance with a welcome-speaking charity so gravely-gladsome as the Queene become consolated, thereat said unto him.

Father, may it be permitted us to stay here with you, till the comming of the new day? being wee know not whither to goe, we having lost our company and they us: Whereunto the good old man with a respective humblenesse made answer.

Worthy Lady, to a person of your quality all things should be permit­ted, except suffering, therefore your stay here depends on your own will, though the discommodiousnesse of your entertainment in so homely a place cannot be as I could wish it were; so as albeit I have (for the service of the Gods) made choyse of a voluntary poverty, yet would I thinke it no sinne to wish for a momentary proportion of riches to serve and ac­commodate you; with that helping downe off her horse the Gentlewo­man, he lead the Steeds to a neere-adjoyning Cottage, where, casting his eye on the furniture, he saw wrought in gold on the saddle, the Armes of that Kingdome, whereby he (not ignorant of the comming of the ene­mie) conceived rightly who shee was; entring then into his cell, and ob­serving her to be the very same as had been formerly described unto him, he said unto her.

And what misfortune (Royall Madame) leades your Majestie so alone, [Page 46] & at so late an houre into my poore lodging? Let me howsoever bewaile the universall miseries, since your unparralled constancie teacheth me to suffer your private ones to passe without any teare. Is that goodly king­dome lost (Madame, I beseech you?) which if it be, then are we lost too, & utterly ruin'd (for company) with it; yet is that losse of our infinitely augmented by the losse of your Majestie, which was the richest purchase that ever wee acquired?

The Queene unwilling to leave unsatisfied so good an inclination; I am not (honest friend) answered shee, the first that was, nor shall I be the last that shall be oppressed by the tyrannie of fortune; though yet its violen­ces have indeede no force against such as esteeme them not, as its blowes are weake to a constant minde arm'd for them long before: But since I see you know me, you shall doe me a speciall piece of service in shewing mee some secure way, for, I shall not thinke my losses great, so I but escape the being made the enemies prey.

The Hermit (drying his beteared eyes) assured her, he would guide her on such a way as should (God willing) bring her beyond all danger; and then making her a frittado of egges and milke he set it before her, whereof shee (not having eaten any thing all that day) willingly tasted, and then being by him pray'd to repose her selfe on his straw-bed, shee there laid her downe, giving her selfe over (for the space of two houres) to a sound and sweete sleepe.

The good man in the meane time looking to the horses carefully, atten­ded his time of awaking her, which was a good while before day, and causing her to ride with her woman hard by her, he led them the way, ha­ving much adoe (although he were well acquainted with the Forrest) to finde the way out, warning them, not to speake a word; all thereabouts being a dangerous place fortheeves, whom hee yet hoped to escape by keeping wide off their dens. The journey through the wood endured as long as the night lasted, there appearing unto their view by that time it was day the open fields and houses, but so abandoned that no living soule was to be seene in any of them.

Assured of her being out of danger, shee thought to license the old man, and in the way of almes to give him a diamond, which he refused to accept of, with telling her.

Such things (Madame) befit not me, who am obliged to serve you as I am a Knight; and besides, as I am a religious man my gemmes are those above, whose beauty and order make me comprehend the Deity; I will waite on you yet a litle farther (if you please to give me leave) of purpose to declare unto you a case, which, if the having of company in adversity can give any comfort to an oppressed heart, will afford yours (I am per­swaded) no small argument of consolation.

The Queene hearing he was a Knight, used him with a greater respect, and therefore the more earnestly importuned his returne, till seeing him resolved to accompany her yet farther, shee said unto him.

Kinde Father, the journey will be too great a trouble for you to goe on any farther, which if that you doe, is (I assure) much against my will; yet sithence you will neede have it so, I will not refuse your courtesie in hea­ring the story you would tell me; where at he drawing neerer her, spake as followeth.

[Page 47] I (Madame) am a native of Norwey, a great Kingdome; which though it lye situated under a very cold clime, is not yet 10 barren that it enjoyes not many benefits of Nature, Gimislao was the last that there sway'd scep­ter, a Prince exceeding well conditioned to suite with the birth of a pri­vate man, but too too simple for a Soveraigne King, which prov'd by con­sequence to be prejudiciall no lesse to his subjects than himselfe. Teutone King of Seandinavia who of (whilome) so poore a petty King is now come to be so great a Monarch, casting an observant eye on the simplici­ty of Gimislao, never left him, till (by deceiving him by fained signes of friendship) he had wrested him out of his dominions; whereof though he (harmelesse Prince) was often warned by divers, (and among them by my undeserving selfe in particular) yet was it never possible to make him understand it, so as he (unfortunate man) was in the same time assaulted and pillaged of all that hee had, saving with much adoe his person by flight, the two Princes his sonnes remaining behinde in the hands of for­tune. I (that had bred them up, and from the beginning of the warre had safely placed them in a strong castle, knowing it could not hold out long when all the rest were once lost) abandoned the Father already past all helpe) to save the sonnes from the tyrranous pawes of the usurper, I cloa­thed them then poorely; and suiting my selfe in the like equipage, I bare-foote and bare-legg'd conducted them (as mine) through the midst of the enemies army, assured by poverty which no man tooke notice of: Gotten to the sea, I sayled prosperously, the winde driving me to the Cimbrians, who (in maintenance of their liberty) wage continuall warre with Teutone: There found we Gimislao, who repenting him too late of his over-coldnesse, moved even the very stones with the pittifull moane he made for regaining his Realme; and after, having spent in spies and leavying of troupes the litle treasure he brought with him, he died a beg­gar for want of any one to releeve him, ambition assayling him now out of season, who was as incapable of riches with a kingdome, as of poverty with a private life; having performed for him his last rites of funerall, I seeing the impossibility of establishing the Princes in their dominions, left them in pay with those people; and then examining (by the vanity of the world) the inconstancie of fortune, and how moving the wheele wherein shee gir'd was, I resolved to bid her adieu, and to retire my selfe some-where, where neither shee nor humane hopes should ever any more de­ceive or molest me: Travelling then through many countries, I chanced (at last) to light on and like the place that I now reside in, where the me­ditation of divine things rid my mind of terrene affections, making me be­come farre more happy in my present poverty, stript of all vaine desires, than I was in worldly riches and honours, incumbred with insatiable af­fections, grieving onely that I had not knowne sooner, that 'tis meerely o­pinion that torments the minde, a torture that ever augments the unhappi­nesse of humane life.

I thought good (Madame) to tell you this short story, for ministring un­to your present state some argument of consolation, and that you might support your losses with a minde worthy your selfe. Which said, he kis­sing the skirt of her garment, returned without either taking any further leave, or staying for other answer.

[Page 48] The Queene calling to minde that her husbands last resolution was to goe to the Cimbrians, was no whit affraid to see her selfe alone, but still holding straight forwards on that way, shee found at the waxing browne of the evening a few cottages, where shee was lovingly (though poorely) entertained. The day following shee saw no body. On the third shee met with a young countrey-swaine, that with a piece of bread in his hand was chasing away his hunger. And shee that the day before had not eaten any thing, and the fore-past dayes but very litle, prick'd on by the spurre of famine said unto him:

Impart me (good lad) I pray thee, some of thy bread, and I will wil­lingly requite thee for it. The boy that till then had never seene a woman of so majestick an appearance (paring off with a knife that part where his teeth had bitten) reached unto her the rest with a liberall readinesse; and then seeing them and their horses too almost starved for hunger, hee (ser­ving them for a guide) led them into a village, where shee was unexpe­ctedly met by her husband, accompanied with a few others; who fearing till then that shee had beene lost, joyed now very much to see her safely escaped.

Advertized afterwards of the enemies sending her her wardrope that was comming a litle after them, with one who in his name came to pre­sent her with it; shee (in an anger) rose up, and calling for her Palfry an­swered them, that shee would have none of her enemies gifts, and much wondred that they were not sent backe when they were first proffer'd; which said, shee rode on, (followed by her traine) till shee came to the Cimbrians, whither were a little before arrived from Gaule many Ladies and Knights, among whom was Elicarncta Dutchesse of Monconciaco, daughter to the old Dutchesse that had beene her governesse. The plea­sure and joy which shee then conceived in seeing her, exceeded her past­grievances and displeasures: The Dutchesse exceeding by qualities not ordinary, all ordinary merits, though great in that sex; thither was shee come (good Lady) extreamely afflicted both in minde and body; in mind for the incomparable crosse-fortunes of her beloved Mistresse; in body for the weaknesse of her tenderly-delicate complexion, which imitating the delicacie of her noble conditions (the singular deliciousnesse of that Court) seemed to teach us, that nature formes complexions with declina­tion and disadvantage after the image and according to the excellencie or defect of spirits; Weepe they did, but not much, so just were they in paying every one its due, a few teares dropp'd they for the infortunate, omitting not though the consolation due to prudence.

Irinico that (in the meane time) could not either with embassies or rea­sons disswade the Scandinavian from siding with the Sarmatan King a­gainst his sonne-in-law, hearing now of his overthrow, and being not able to re-install him by Armes; smoothering the injury, thought with him­selfe to prosecute the affaire of matrimony (the Prince Elimante being already enamoured of his pretended wife) hoping that this meanes might open him the way to the restitution of what was taken away from his daughter; but the marriage being all this while unconcluded on, he resol­ved to permit the Prince to goe himselfe in person into Scandinavia, there to prosecute the enjoying of his loves; accordingly he goes thither un­knowne, [Page 49] giving out, that hee went to travell as a Knight-errant into other parts: Arrived there, he saw the King, whom (though the home-glasse of many yeares were since runne out) he yet knew by that Embassad our that had beene at his Fathers, a caveat that taught his intellect to guide his behaviour somewhat the more warily; become in that regard more cau­telous of concealing himselfe than before, he assaid all the meanes his in­vention could propose to come to the sight of the Princesse, who stirring abroad but very seldome, by consequence could be but seldome seene: But prudence and love, or rather a prudent love instructing him farre a­bove his yeares, and discreetely governing him in all his wayes, hee came (I know not how) to have ingresse into a parke where for her health's sake shee used to walke sometimes all alone in.

The Prince was cloath'd in the habit of a Squire, and though his Roy­all greatnesse remain'd not vailed by the disguise of the habit he was cloa­thed in, yet was it neverthelesse shadowed with a certaine taking-kinde of humility, wherewith hee beleeving to hide it from the fight of others, made it become (indeede) in the eyes of all men more observed, and re­gardfull for its inexpressibly-sweet delightsomnesse, and rarely selfe-pe­culiar hearts-winning amability.

The Princesse had (given her by her Father) Elimanto's picture sent from Irinico, and now walking all alone, shee opening its Diamantine co­ver, heedfully beheld it; when casting her eye aside towards a by-corner not farre off the place where shee walked, shee discovered its true origi­nall: Start back at the unexpected sight of him shee did not, but drew her eye from the artificiall to the naturall; and then beleeving shee was not deceived in the certainety of her conjecture, said unto her selfe. Sure this is Elimanto.

Hee pierced through the heart with that sudden glance, had surely fain­ted, but that love received himselfe before him the shaft shot by the bow of her faire eyes, (a pittie not imputable either to piety or vertue, know­ing him without any new wounds to bee already wounded, and withall, that he could not (in case he kill'd him out-right) so triumph over him as he intended.)

Elimanto tooke on him to be by this encounter surprized at unawares, and doing her submissive reverence, made a shew of retiring himselfe, when shee asked him whom he belong'd unto, and how hee got in there: The answer was.

Most excellent Madame, it is not long since the Knight my Master died, and then I desirous to see, and seeke a fortune in this great Court, for the famousnesse thereof, came hither to that end; for the rest, I beseech your Highnesse pardon, for my being got in hither as a stranger, curious to see what I had never seene before.

Vpon this, Celene asking him if he had ever knowne her before, and if not, how he then came to know shee was the Princes? I never had (in­deede) the happinesse to see your Highnesse before (answered her the Prince) but yet to know you is as easie as to know the sunne by its shi­ning rayes; besides, my comming from a countrey, in which your High­nesse is knowne by pictures, merits, and relations, I might say by love too, if I thought there were any Prince living worthy of your Highnesse: [Page 50] At this Celene smiled with a gentle gravity, without taking off him her eye, more certaine than before that hee was Elimanto; then asking him what Countrey that hee spake of was, and understanding it was Gaula Belgica, shee not daring to passe any farther held her peace: But he with a courage spurr'd on by a sincere affection) proceeded.

If Prince Elimanto could but imagine me here, I am sure hee would with all his heart exchange beings with me, he owning not that affect that more sweetly tortures him, than the desire of serving your Highnesse; so as if the affaire of the-by-him-so-ardently-desired-nuptials be not short­ly determined, I would not give one of these leaves for his life.

Knoweth-you then the Prince? (said Celene) if yea, why then suffers he you to goe seeke any other Master? Yes Madame (said he) he knowes me, but is as willingly content that any of his subjects travell hither, as he would more gladly come himselfe, so (as I dare say) that this sole favour (I am now honoured with in seeing your Highnesse) would suffice, to make him the happiest of all the Princes in the world; how then can he choose but be well content, that others come here for service, your High­nesse being Soveraigne Mistresse of his desires, and by all his so reputed? And could I be but so fortunate, in joyning the desire to the effect so farre, as that your Highnesse would be pleased to receive me into your service; Prince Elimanto would thinke a great part of his desires accomplished in my being so for his sake accepted, the most honourable marke of your Princely favour that your Highnesse can favour him withall.

My favours (said then Celene) stand at the dispose of the King my Fa­ther, of whom I have not as yet received any command to any such pur­pose; but you (for being a stranger, and hapning to come to me before a­ny other) I will accept into my service, seeing the desire you have to serve me. With that, bidding a Lady that followed her, to cause him to be (on her behalfe) entertained of her Stuart, shee yet held him some while lon­ger in discourse, growing to be ever more and more assur'd, that shee had not judged amisse.

Elimanto seeing himselfe at his first entrance so highly favoured by for­tune, conceived a confident hope of a good issue therein; and conferring by night with his Fathers Embassadour, under colour of bringing him letters, made him when hee knew him) tremble to thinke of his no lesse bold than dangerous enterprize, Teutone being of all Princes the most malicious, whose honour-despising resolutions had no other scope, than his owne private profit.

Litle lesse than a whole yeares time lived Elimanto in this habit, and yet the businesse went on never a whit all this while, one day suggesting unto the other new articles of difficulty to hinder its conclusion. Nor had he (good Prince) beene yet disinveagled so soone as he was neither, (so in­tent were all his thoughts on the object of his love) but for the Princesse her selfe, who was the first that shew'd him the false carde dealt him.

Now shee had endeavoured by all the meanes shee could, to carry her selfe fairely; for though of tender yeares, yet being at one and the selfe same time no lesse prudent than upright-hearted, divers conjectures had made her imagine, that her Father treated of this alliance with no faire meaning; so as shee gave not her affection full power to settle it selfe [Page 51] wholly on Elimanto, doubting lest he should be betraid, and so excluded from her; watching therefore continually an occasion to cleere her imagi­nation of that doubt, Fortune at length favoured her better than she expe­cted; for, chancing to be one day in her Fathers gallery, whereinto no man entred but himself alone, she at the chamber-doore heard him in discourse with one of his Councell & favourites; saying, he was sorry that the King of the Sarmatans carried not himselfe more sagely in his courses than he seemed to doe, since being assured of having Celene, and that the holding of Irinico in hopes, was but to establish what he had already conquered, and to facilitate the way for acquiring of more; he had (for all that) im­portuned him with perpetuall embassies, as if the jealousie of Doricrene could not be otherwise extinguished than with the new love of his daugh­ter. A foule shame for a great Prince to love women for affections sake, whereas his love should have no other end than his owne proper ends and interesses. Whereof in respect hee had divers times written unto him without being able to make him yet conceive the mysterie of his intenti­on, hee was now resolved to send him thither to tell him by word of mouth: That Celene was his, and should be no other mans, since he neither would nor indeede could settle her in a better or fitter place, their blood and interesses loudly proclaiming her his; That the late conquest of Vl­migaria did but make his way to greater enterprizes, if he would be but ruled by him, if not, that then he might chance to encounter with greater difficulties than he yet imagined; That his intention was to goe on the way he had begun, which was, to procure Armes of Irinico (that hang rusting on the wals) under the hopes of the marriage of Celene to his son; That therefore if he heard of any treaty about it, he should not be (in the least manner) moved thereat, nor in any case beleeve it, though his eares and eyes with all his outward senses shewed it him concluded: That his designe was to negotiate it till such time, as their joynt Standard-royall and victorious Armes (passing the Rhene and Elbe) were displaid victori­ous in the Countries and dominions of Irinico, where he had infinite de­pendents that favoured their faction. And that so high a designe merited his patience, the delay not depriving him of his Spouse, but presenting him (together with her) occasions to make him become the famousest King that ever wore Crowne; to these added he many other instructions tending all to one and the same purpose: But here the Princesse (for feare of being espied) retired, astonished at such a master-plot of treachery and being conditioned differently from her Father, could not choose but fa­vour Elimanto's true affection, and correspond thereunto as farre as her honour permitted her, so as shee resolved (whatsoever came on't) to open the matter unto him that he might be gone his wayes, and dispose other­wise of his affection.

All this while had shee governed her selfe with such circumspection, that he could never perceive that shee knew him, and he (on the other side) was endued with such a singular modesty, as he had not the boldnesse to discover himselfe, content onely to contemplate in the sunne (as doth a generous Eagle) those rayes he so admired and loved; and though youth prompt him on to more bold resolutions, yet bore reason and discretion in him a greater stroake than any other affect whatsoever.

[Page 52] Celene went (according as shee was wont) into her parke to walke, whi­ther causing to be brought her by Elimante (that gave out his name to be Velusio) a litle mantle (which she usually wore to keepe her from the cold ayre when shee walked) shee thus bespake him.

Velusio, I have hitherto knowne thee so discreete, that I hope thou wilt serve me faithfully in a businesse wherein I meane to imploy thee; which is, that thou returne to thy countrey, and tell Prince Elimante from me, that all the meanes which hee and his Father use to obtaine me are but meerely vaine, the King my Father being resolved to dispose otherwise of me; acquaint him further, that his love hath obliged me to correspond him, if not in love, yet (at least) in good will, which hath transported me to discover unto him this countries crossing of his designe, seeing I cannot (with my honour) requite him with any greater or other expression of my gratitude; here told shee him all that shee had heard, charging him to part suddenly, and to advise Elimante to alter the object of his love, and thinke of another wife: I know not whether or no there distilled at these words some humidity from her faire eyes, for, the staidnesse of her coun­tenance and speech made not any shew of any greater affect than her lan­guage uttered. To describe the case Elimante was in, were impossible for me, whose heart (good Prince) was so overwhelmed with extreamity of anguish, that if anger & disdaine (which served for a compound cordiall) had not sustained his drooping spirits in their functions, he had doubtlesse sunke to the ground: But considering how much it then stood him upon, he with a generous resolution returned her this answer.

Incomparable Madame, I yeeld your Highnesse the greatest thankes that I can expresse or imagine, since the favour you doe me farre excels any merit of mine, onely in one respect I may thinke my selfe worthy, which is, that your Highnesse shall not be deceived in the opinion you conceive of my fidelity. I see in this businesse two great extreames; the King, and your Highnesse: Prince Elimante (though betrayed) will never repent him of having served so high and vertuous a Princesse, whose ex­emplary gratitude shall make him thinke well employed all the time spent in bearing with the ingratitude of others. I shall acquaint him with as much as your Highnesse commands me, beseeching you to rest assur'd, that he will never forget his beholdingnesse to your Highnesse for so great a favour; One sole thing I doubt of, (which is) that the badnesse of the newes will goe neere to kill him, and by so much the rather, that in the losse which he sustaines, the same in the very act of its losing shewes the inestimablenesse of its excellencie and value. But the Princesse having not the heart to answer him (her constancie beginning now to faile her) without further speech to him, went and placed her selfe among the La­dies.

The Prince making no longer tarrying (having conferr'd with his Fa­thers Embassadour, and changed his apparrell) departed thence, arriving within few dayes at his owne home, where unbuttoning his brest, he pluc­ked out thence the wrongs done him. Hee burst off the treaty, and would (if his Father had suffered him) have broken off the peace too; howsoe­ver, the seeming preparation he is now busied about, makes the world ex­pect for warres.

[Page 53] The other Princes stand all of them observing the issue, desirous to free themselves from suspicions and hidden treacheries, though with manifest dangers; and I am now going to recall Polimero Prince of Sardinia, (now many yeares sithence banished, through the occasion of the King his Fa­ther-in-lawes-doting fits) to the end he, returned home, may (if neede be) make one with the rest. This is the danger wherein weare: The world on that part hath one sole enemy, superior to any one, inferior to all toge­ther; this is knowne unto all, and yet such as can withstand him, will not; they shut their eyes, and runne for company downe the streame of the rui­ned to their owne utter ruine, thinking themselves more hurt with the bi­ting of a flea that skips in their shirts, than with the venemous teeth and poysoned breath of the dragon, that both infects them and devoures their dominions. Some Princes there are, that (for certaine rules) cannot leave off siding with the Scandinavian, though they be sure to be in the end op­pressed, or (which is the least evill they can hope for) to be of free-men made first subjects, and then slaves: Others thinke it a happinesse to be the last that perish. We have none of us any prudence, but are all carried to action it we doe any thing) by spirits of confusion, and brought to that passe, that the Gods (being pleased to punish mortals) reduce them unto, which is, to deprive them of their diviner part their understanding.

Here held the ancient Knight his peace, seconded with a sad silence of all, full of that horror wherewith an unexpected evill encumbers mens spirits: But the Druide having stood a good while with downe-cast eyes, thinking his present profession obliged him to speake, knew not well what to resolve of; so distracted was he with a passionate affection that egg'd him on, to make others beleeve that, which reason suffered not himselfe to give any credit unto. Now he had ever since the arrivall of the Vene­dotian Knight had great conflicts in his minde about his returne, but his first deliberation growne up now to the hight of obstinacie, tyed him fast to his resolution of not parting; though love and filiall duty perswaded him strongly to the contrary, insomuch as he perswaded himselfe that that was his best course, now that the entrance into wholsome counsels was shut up, and that hee fostered (in their steede) imaginations, which being once tasted, it is a hard matter to forget their smacke, & leave them to catch hold of the reall substance and guile-detesting truth.

Having then heard this story treating of a publick State, which impo­sed on him a necessity of changing his purpose, hee gladly would for not changing it have deceived himselfe, with beguiling also the rest of the company, and perswading them to thinke well of that opinion, which he knew in his owne conscience to be starke naught.

This noble Knights tale (said hee) hath horrible appearances, and minds taken at unawares may easily conceive fears to be where none are, by measuring the effects, or rather the expectation of them with the de­ceivable rule of false good and false evill: Here is presented to our view an altered and a new world, as if it and its accidents had not ever been the same, sithence it first began to have a beeing; not that I deny alterations, but consider them in the revolution of times, which if they could choose but be changed, mutations then could not but be denied; but if they be at this present in a bad state, they shall (no doubt) hereafter be in a goood [Page 54] one. 'Tis ordinary for old men to praise the greennesse of their youth, and for Poets to runne on the commendation of the Spring, yet perceive not the former, that if they were not waxen old, nothing would seeme alte­red unto them; Cities, townes, and houses would then have the selfe same aspects, and appeare unto them with the very same beauty; menthen should have their delights confined to past-sports, would taste all meates with the same rellish, and the spirit glutted and tired with merry thoughts, farre distant from mellancholike Philosophie, would not be capable of such differences, no not so much as to imagine that any such were or could be. Poets likewise would say, that the world were ever the same, or if it ever altered, that then it rather bettered than otherwise; for, in later ages were never knowne (as in the first) brother-killers without any precedent example, promiscuous lusts without shame or punishment, incests with fa­thers, nor a thousand other mischiefes and lewde villanies.

Alterations of States, civill and domestick enmities, pestilences and famines have beene in all times; so have there ever beene eclipses, light­ning, thunderbolts, droughts, earth-quakes and comets; and if not al­wayes deluges, no more doth there alwayes meete in the deepest of the heavens in the signe Cancer the great conjunction of Iove and Saturne: Be­sides, the Gods (which is indeede the true reason) doe not alwayes punish us according to our deservings. The world though placed in the midst of the ayre, yet falls not, its owne nature upholds it, and makes it durable for alterations, without which the heaven and earth would seeme to us to be of iron. If it be so; then things present should not seeme so strange to us, (seeing they are but even what have beene before) nor yet afflict us, if leaving naturall considerations, we accoast to the supernaturall, which may alone serve us for a true rule in all things. Men talke of a generall re­volution in the world, by which most beleeve, that the buds of the grow­ing Monarchy is to be prun'd off, no otherwise, than if we thought it pos­sible to strike a naile in the celestiall wheele, or beleev'd that the dispo­sition of the Gods were unto us as prejudiciall as incomprehensible: But if we beleeve that there are Gods, and that they have a provident care o­ver us, doth it not imply, that the meanes of their providence stand above the reach of our knowledge, and that they oftentimes make for our good, when they seeme in our eyes to worke our prejudice? Humane mindes (capable onely of the individuall things present) measure all eternall uni­versall acts by the short Ell of their clouded capacity, not considering, how that the infinite essence hath a constant care of the finite, with an Idea of eternity, which we comprehend not: for, to comprehend it, would be required an instrument proportionable, which is divinity, being a rule fit to square all things by, from which are derived, and wherein ends the circle of the whole universe and all things therein contained, with a per­petuall undeceivable gire, not casuall, but predeterminate & certaine, so as our oppositions cannot hinder it, nor our reasons perswade it to alter its course. Which if it so be, to what end then serve either our feares or com­plaints? And againe, if it be not so, what good doe our Altars or Tem­ples doe us? What! are there no Gods at all? well! we'le then be gods to ourselves, and may then rest confident, that in whatsoever we doe or take in hand, either the strongest or subtlest will prevaile; Let the hopes [Page 55] and feares of the life to come then cease, nor let us any more vainely spend either our time or blood for maintaining the opinion of Deities in this pre­sent life, not knowing either what or who they are: But if such both are indeed, and will needs have these alterations, let's then cede to their pow­er and will, it befitting not us to know or dispute the reason why, but humbly to kisse the whip wherewith wee are scourged: Nor should our having in our owne hands the disposing of our owne free-will make us be­leeve that we are (for all that) withdrawne from under the subjection of their providence; for if it so were, then were that providence in vaine, and divinity quite abolished, or at least idle, unactive, and uncapable of any operation: Now then if any Gods be, doubtlesse they doe foresee and provide, not that which we, but what they in their inscrutable wise­dome judge expedient for us; And if to withstand or repine at what befals us be to oppugne the divine providence, then who-so beleeveth, opposeth it not, but obeyeth their irresistable wils, and suffers this wheele to runne round, since it cannot but gire, to the end its standing still make it not be­come contrary to the nature of the eternall motion. The world could not conserve it selfe in its generall beeing but for corruption, which in it in­genders singular things of their owne essence; and this change is that so much spoken of vicissitude, by which the Gods abase and exalt whom and what they please.

These are the reasons which for the one only (though the onely good) part, may partly be alleadged in this matter.

For the other, I see no reason of opposing rising commands, or growing Monarchies; be it of Prince or people; of Princes, they know that theirs must one day come to a period, and therefore the signes foreshewing it being once come, they should not either impugne them, or oppose the will of Fate. Alteration is lesse violent in ceding than withstanding, The bow that bends not, breakes: But grant, that they will defend themselves, tell me, will they doe it solely or joyntly? If solely, the inferiority then of forces will be the touch-stone of their losses; if accompanied, then the disaccompanying of their interesses will reserve them by such delay for a greater precipice. The colleagues have all of them their particular and severall ends, and when in the extreame ruines of their fellowes they see themselves likely to escape the being ruined for that present, they ne­glect to succour them in the field, and withdraw their hand from the community of their perils, for feare of falling with them. Examples there­of we have enough in the present dayes, without borrowing any from past ages; but could a Prince be alwayes in the same state, it were doubtlesse better for him: The worst is that, which this noble Knight tels us; That the world become senselesse, neither sees nor feeles its owne imminent evils; That the enemy may ever runne and rove wheresoever he list, the impediments being few and weake; That who-so can withstand him, is by fatall inconsideration become so confident as he will not doe it; being all of them signes, whereby Princes are admonished to foresec, and with prompt remedy to provide for the evils that hang over their heads, which in wils so disjoyned in such a conjunction of perils and interesses, I see not how they can otherwise doe than by ceding; since yeelding brings farre lesser losses than utter undoing.

[Page 56] For the people, I know no necessity of their ruining themselves with their Soveraignes, they are alwayes sure to serve one or other; to what end then should they purchase a ruinous decaying servitude at the price of their blood, and ruine of their countrey? Must the ambition (forsooth) of Princes destroy the world? the Fates forbid that; Why they have commanded already their shares, let them therefore (a gods name) give place to others. Have they more pretension in what they or their Ance­stors acquired, than others have had? Were they borne (trow we) Prin­ces with the world, or came they by that dignity after a long succession of yeares, and after others that ruled before them? If so, the first that got it, could he come by it otherwise than by violence? and if by such meanes, why then may not another doe the like? The selfe same shall in future a­ges befall our present Conquerours, who for being by then founded on the continuation of a long possession, will thinke it an injury to them what now they make no scruple of doing to others, though indeed it neither then will be, nor now is such. The world is a scene where are represented its accidents; the spectators are the Gods, who delighting themselves in humane things, would take no pleasure therein, if they continued to be al­wayes the same; they will that their power shine over all; and such men as ordinary (though miraculous) things cannot illuminate, must bee ta­ken out of darkenesse by extraordinary meanes: In fine, I beleeve, the Gods deprive not Princes of their judgement and valour, but to bring in new personages in a new commedy, and the scene being theirs, they may represent there what they please, and we can but serve them at a beck, in taking up and letting downe the hangings, and in putting a hand to the machines, and being employed in other common and meaner services, whilst the Princes appearing in the sceane (sometimes happy, and some other times miserable, one while triumphant, and another while captives) shew themselves in the Catastrophe to be subject to a power greater than theirs.

Here ended the Druide, when the Venedotian Knight, who had many timés changed his colour, seeing him now silent, rose up and said.

Feredo Prince of Vencdotia (even this same (my Lords) you here see in this habit) and with that turning towards him; I beseech your Highnesse (said he on) to pardon my discovering you.

The times now permit you not to be any longer confin'd to these weeds, nor with them to those resolutions that ruine the person of so great a Prince; you pretend that humane judgement, for being deprived of the right instrument to judge things by, is deceivable; and true it is: But be it what it will, either you were not pleased to expresse it, or else you would not seeme to know it, for doubt of being induced to yeeld to what you might by irrefuteable arguments be perswaded unto. The Gods (with your gracious pardon) are not that instrument, though they be indeed the Authors and the end thereof; nor in giving it us, give they us themselves, but their assistant grace, whereby we are made capable of using it; nor yet have they been pleased to bestow it upon us in an incomprehensible way, beyond the capacity of our senses, as they themselves are; lest we should then impudently deny it, as they themselves have beene sometimes im­piously renounced; to prevent which, they have naturally engrafted it in [Page 57] us, and withall made us doubly sensible of having it in our heart, and in our intellect; Conscience that witnesse against our selves, is that instrument, that conscience which I will terme Naturall, to distinguish it from the Re­ligious one. By this Naturall Conscience, I meane that remorse common to all creatures, which though voide of reason, are not (for all that) deprived of a certaine knowledge of the evils they commit, more or lesse accor­ding to the degrees of their capacities; and such a conscience is singular in us in the yeares of our infancie.

A Religious Conscience I intend to be that, whose object is Divinity, but for being built upon divers lawes (contrary or disaccording) cannot be so generall, as to forme this instrument; Naturall Conscience then, as a com­mon immutable principle, shall serve us for a rule in our affaires, without neglecting (for all that) the use of the religious one, when we treate of the Gods, or of their operations in us.

Let us now then first see, if Princes and people be indifferently bound to conserve, those their dominion, these their present state; or if the pre­text of predestination or divine will doth constraine them to runne to ruine, for default of defending themselves: For the Princes, my Prince here beleeves there is no reason for it, since their owne interesses will make them use the meanes. For the people, he speakes neerer the quick of the seeming trueth; for he holds them exempted of all defence, for not receiving any change thereby (as touching the naturall conscience) and for not opposing the divine will in obsequiousnesse to the religious one. But I (being (under correction) of a contrary opinion) say, that they ought to shunne by all meanes any new principality; for being by the re­ligious Conscience thereto bound by oathes of fealty and obedience. And the alleadging, that the beginnings of Monarchies were violent, is a rea­son that (under favour) proves not his, but my opinion; since when the Law declareth things unowned to be his that first comes to the enjoying of them, it shewes cleerely the property thereof to be by naturall reason such or such a ones: And the same Law that by the selfe same reasons would take away all occasions of contentions that might spring from old pretensions, gives us likewise prescription of time, which being expired, declares the things in controversie to be under the dominion of the last possessor; But I admit not this violence, much lesse beleeve it to have bin a degree to the first Signiories: For, if it be true, that golden ages first were and afterwards degenerated, 'tis strange to me, since I finde them not now degenerated nor abased, but rather reduced to a finer caract and a better state than ever they were before in.

Nature desires Monarchy and will needs have it; wee see not any one thing that depends not on another. The Sunne lords over the Planets, a­mong beasts the Lion rules, and of birds the Eagle is soveraigne; The secondary causes also depend on one prime singular; the affects and tem­peratures are subject to one predominating Element; the soule rules the body, the father his children and family; if then every litle house hath by nature its King, why shall not then a City, a Province, nay a whole Nation have one? The first that reduced men together, did it not to lord over, but to instruct and disciplinate them; nor can indeed a Teacher dis­charge well the function of a Teacher, without jurisdiction over his Dis­ciples; [Page 58] and the Heavens that would have a Monarchy among men, as in other things brought in for Monarches elevated wits, which were the first that began to oversway the depressed and servile: And though I did admit (which I doe not) that the streame of Monarchies sprung from the fountaine of tyrannie, yet might I gather thence the learning of good government by bad (as by the infirmity the medicine, and by it the restau­ration of health) which being an inestimable treasure, let us endeavour as much more to conserve it, as in procuring its reduction from tyrannie to a legitimate and necessary Magistracie, whereby and by whose meanes man-kinde is governed and made happy. So farre therefore are those that first ruled out of the reach of accusation, that even antiquity it selfe hath (to eternize their memories) honoured them as Gods.

The people then ought (for the religious conscience's sake) to obey their Princes, and (for the naturall one) to doe the same for their owne peculiar interesses. Never was there State seene passe from one govern­ment to another without its owne proper violence of Lawes or customes, which being so violated, breakes the peace, and ingenders factions and sometimes insurrections, by reason of the Subject's being restrain'd to new lawes and orders contrary to the first; a passion in Nature intollera­ble: Besides that, a new Prince, though he enter never so peaceably, can­not yet otherwise choose but come arm'd, so as the Subject's goods and houses remaine to be exposed to the Souldiers, and justice in the hand of new Ministers under new termes and lawes: And if the change chance to be from a bad Prince to a worser, or from a good to a bad one, should not then an indifferent and easie servitude be preferr'd before an heavy and intollerable one: The comparison demonstrating unto us, that a great difference in things, though of the selfe-same species, makes them become not onely unequall but opposite? My Lord (the Prince) counsels as a Druide, that which as a Prince hee surely would not doe, which is, that considering the confusion and ill intelligence among Princes, and seeing the signes of the divine will to threaten (as it were) their ruine, it would prove their best course, quietly and patiently to endure the yoake of the divine will, and withall as willingly to subject themselves to the hand of man for feare of perishing. But I would faine know, who will or can assure me of the will of the Gods? or in case I might be thereof as­sur'd, yet who will calculate me the degrees thereof, or shew me the li­mits of its extent? But will they needs have me undone howsoever? In­deede, if I looke into my owne demerits, it will be no difficult matter to induce me to beleeve it, nay I doubt me, that by this reason most, if not all the world would be undone.

That then which concernes me to know more particularly, is, Whe­ther they will deprive me of my dominion totally, or with it subject me to another, or neither this nor that, but afflict me with long warres? If no man can tell it me, how shall I then behave my selfe for not opposing the divine will? Nature teacheth me to defend my selfe. The Gods for­bid me not to doe it, and men will commend me for so doing; none will blame me for it save mine enemies, to whom only my vertue will be de­testable, for being prejudiciall unto them. If to conserve my state I bow my neck to the yoake of subjection, I shall then oppose the Gods, in case [Page 59] their will be to have me either afflicted or utterly ruined; the same may I say of any other election of mine. The Gods when they are disposed to subject, ruine, or afflict me, will not send me Geniuses to buzze or trum­pet it in my eares, they need no meanes, but can make my selfe serve for the instrument of my owne raising or downefall: yea my owne ill dire­cted actions will conduct, nay hurry me to the end prefixed me by their will; so as under such a pretext to doe this rather than that, will give them cause, not onely to crosse me, but to be withall justly displeased at me, for pretending to pry into that which is inscrutable, whilst I should rather second it with the meanes bestow'd upon me, which is defence.

As for the reason, that Princes have no just title in their possessions, pre­supposing their comming by them anciently to have beene by violence, I would here faine know how the new may be termed just, if the old (justi­fied by ancient possession, with the prescription of times, assent of subjects, and confirmed with blood oftentimes, spilt in defending it, yea with the death of the Princes themselves) be unjust? And as touching the scene and its representations, the Gods would not be spectators if there were no stage-players, whose parts to act, one Prince must defend if another as­saile. But if there be this day any Prince obliged to the defence of his Subjects, you (Prince of Venedotia) are surely he, you having no brother, your father being sickly and weake; your people left for a prey to their enemies, without any Prince, or defender. With which, prostrating himselfe at his feete, he proceeded. Therefore I humbly beseech your Highnesse, that, abandoning your incertaine deceivable conceits, you re­assume the filiall affection that you have forgotten, the inclination of a Prince which you have left off, and the duty of a Cavalier by you some while sithence abandoned. More he would have said, but that his tender­heartednesse restrained him, so as, with an affectionate respect, kissing his knees, he besought him with silence and teares more effectually, than he could have done by either perswasions or entreaties: But he graciously raising him up off the ground, after a short pause, said unto him.

Cataulo no more, since you have already by doing your duty taught me mine, and though ought otherwise than good should come thereof, yet will I preferre the publick good before my owne private interesses; I thanke you for the paines you have taken, which shall not (on my word) prove to be sowne in the sands. Behold, I am now perswaded to goe and restore my selfe to my father and Countrey, in hope the Gods will bee therewith well pleased: At these words, all of them rising up did him humble reverence, with congratulating and praysing the resolution he had taken.

All that day passed they over exceeding joyfully, and the ensuing, the Prince (desirous to know them) enquired who they were, especially the young Knight, who now standing in a muse, discovered by his face a con­fused minde, he seeming at the instant of Feredo's resolution, to ruminate some till then unthought of deliberations, and to contemplate that site with greater curiosity than before. Of which new passion of his, the Prince taking notice, could not choose but tell him, that he much marveiled to see him so transported.

My Lord (with blushing thereat said he) I beseech your Highnesse not [Page 60] to take it ill I obey you not, my fortunes and quality being so meane, as the knowing them cannot be any way serviceable unto you; and though that the concealing thereof might disadvantage me in the way of begging a fa­vour at your Highnesse hands, neverthelesse such is the opinion that I have of your generous and noble disposition, that I hope you will grant it me by so much the willinger, by how much the lesse my silence merits it; And withall, I should thinke my obligation doubled to your Princely fa­vour, if vouchsafing to admit of my excuses, you deeme me the lesse dis­courteous by beleeving, that I conceale my selfe for an urgent and neces­sary occasion.

Feredo that by this young Knights Squire had secretly learn'd who he was, not caring to know thereof any further, answered him. Your aspect (Sir) promiseth so much, as your quality and unseene merit cannot with­out injury be doubted of; therefore if the desire I had to be acquainted with you onely to serve you, made me desirous to know your being, the same now teacheth me to content my selfe with what best pleaseth you, so as your silence should no whit disencourage you from commanding me, since it deprives me not of the will to obey you.

The young Knight blushing at this courteous answer, with doing him humble obeysance, said. I must then (my Lord) in begging this favour at your Princely hands, first tell you this much of my selfe, that being a di­stressed Gentleman exil'd from my Countrey, and in disfavour with my Prince, I thought (my heart indeede so giving me) when first I had the fortune to see you, that the tempest had brought me hither to shroude me here as in a sanctuary: But seeing your Highnesse now resolved to re­turne home, I bethought me of a new course, which was to implore of your liberality, the resignation of this place under such vassallage and ob­ligation as might stand best with your Highnesse good liking.

Much wrought this request on the noble heart of Feredo, who by his owne case had learn'd to have a feeling of that of anothermans; full loath was he to say his demand, nay, and yet having beene informed of his de­sperate love, he feared that the subscribing to his desire might turne to his prejudice; Taking him therefore aside, hee praid him to acquaint him with the occasion that moved him to settle himselfe in that Iland: But seeing he could not draw any thing out of him, he then by laying before his eyes his owne example, counselled him to alter his resolution, for the suspition or rather beliefe he had, that some desperation had guided him to some ruinous resolution; but the young man with a gladsome countenance assur'd him, no manner of desperation now troubled him, any passion ten­ding that way being cured by that climate, where it behoved him to stay some time, to take the benefit of that ayre for confirming it.

Feredo would not rest satisfied with such reasons, neither would the o­ther manifest unto him his secrets, yet so much did he by the order and manner of his speech discover, that the Prince might penetrate somewhat into his new love, or at least free himselfe of the suspition he had of him before; observing now in him those joyes, which cannot easily be con­cealed in those enamoured hearts, which confidently hope for the full fruition of their desires, so as, laying aside all doubts, he bestowed on him the house with all that was therein, with no other obligation but to [Page 61] acknowledge it the Prince of Feacia's; so gladsome was the Knight of this gift, that he would by all meanes kisse his hands for so noble a favour.

As they two stood pleasantly conferring together of divers subjects, their discourse was interrupted by the trampling of two horses, who (prick'd hotly on) thought by the swiftnesse of their course to shunne the sting of the spurre; the one fled from the other, and the foremost (being not able to rule his) suffered him to runne his brest against the wall, and his fore-feete into a window of a house, that stood erected on that plaine, but thence fell downe so neere the wall, that his rider (tumbling down topsie-turvy with his head undermost) ding'd out his braines, and remained stone-dead in the place; The second that pursued him, being already a­lighted, seeing him quite dead, remounted on horse-back, without doing him other harme, but turning back to encounter a great troupe of high-way the eves that made after him; and giving no eare to the Prince, (who courteously welcomed him thither) hee furiously galloped downe the hill, and rushing in among them, made of them so great a slaughter, that by that time Feredo arrived (who with the others came in speedily to his succour) the greater part of them lay dead in the field, the rest (knowing themselves inferiour in force, and seeing no possibility of running away) yeelded to the vanquisher; who being weary, and in some parts of his body wounded, went and laid himselfe downe on the ground, to recover his then well-neere-forlorne breath.

Before I tell you who this was, give me leave to let you know, how that the Princesse Elenia staid a great while in Sardinia with Eromena, for being so fond each of other, as they could not part company; till at last the mul­tiplied messengers from Elenia's father, her duty, and desire of seeing him after so many yeares, induced her to take her leave, shee parting obli­ged, beloved, and presented with rich gifts.

Her tenderly-loving father (that in her misfortunes had refined his love, by the experimented confirmation of the constant opinion he had of her goodnesse) welcomed her with all those expressions of a fatherly affection, which could be shewed towards an onely beloved and vertuous (though litle fortunate) daughter.

Her step-mother having first heard of, and afterwards seene the reality of her merits, conformed her selfe in her entertainment both to her hus­bands will and her owne inclination. Don Eleimo was seene of her with such an eye, as generous Princes are wont to behold with, such as have loyally served them, shee thinking it withall no shame to publish her ob­ligation, and confesse her engagement to him; for which shee could never satiate her selfe in rewarding his merits, and gratifying him, though indeed shee thought all money too light for such an use. But to Don Eleimo seem­ed it on the contrary, that so great and accumulated favours, brought (in some sort) a prejudice or blemish to the greatnesse of his generous minde; and living perpetually in some measure tormented with an extreame de­sire of going to seeke after Don Eulavio, whom he feared to be in a weake and succour-needing fortune, he made suit to depart, obtaining at length by his assiduall importunity leave, though with much adoe, which but for that sole occasion he could not have obtained. And so away hee goes to travell, & seekes him over all such countries as his Genius directed him to; [Page 62] and at last (after the spending of many yeares in the search of him) found him out, and brought him to the Court of Aquitaine, where he resolved to make a period of his travels, and to spend the remnant of his dayes, not trusting to the Catalan's promises, but refusing them, hee (banishing the too-tender affects to countrey and kinred) resolved to let the world see, that he could live any where, and that a sincere innate goodnesse is more ac­ceptable in forraine countries than in its owne. Needs would Don Eleimos by all meanes beare him company in his exile, to recompence in some measure his accompanying him in his misfortunes, the sole occasion of his so living a banished man.

Impossible it were to describe a happier life than this of theirs, both of them being ennobled Gentlemen of one and the same Countrey, nurst up with the milke of one and the same Court, banished for the selfe same cause, both alike magnanimous in enduring misfortunes, and in counting them instruments of their felicity, for having beene the meanes of joyning them together, the one serving to the other for father and brother, having but one and the same purse, one interesse, and one heart. But Don Eulavio fortuning to dye a litle after, the other (deprived of so desre a friend) see­ing fortune not yet satisfied to have loaden him with perpetuall vexation of spirit, thought to lighten it with toyling exercises of his body; In ac­complishment whereof, when hee had sought after death through all the warres of the Westerne, Northerne, and Southerne parts of the knowne world, and yet not found it; he resolved to seeke then after new enterpri­zes in those parts where the Sun riseth, but being by a storme wind-driven into Ericusa, he happened (as he walked along the sea-shore) to light on that good bird Catascopo.

That villaine was fled from Arelate the very day before he should have made a miserable spectacle of himselfe unto the popular eye, by paying with his death the debt due from the deeds of his mischievous life. Hee had about him in his clothes a flat-fashioned bottle of a certaine water of so strange a vertue, that it made all the iron it but touch'd become instantly as brittle as glasse, which he had got from one, that having spent all his substance in alembicks, in hope of finding out the richest transmutation of mettals, had by chance lighted on this rare secret: Nor is it a thing to be wondred at, for such men happen sometimes (after many losses and much time and coyne spent in vaine) to meete by the way with many excellent things, without being therefore beholding either to other mens doctrine or their owne proper judgement. And this purchase came in that arch­caitive his way, just as (returned from the Pyrenean Mountaines) he lived in doubt how to dispose of himselfe, when he had counterpoyzed in a just ballance his Masters nature with his owne foule demerits.

Having then oftentimes experimented the secret, and found it by proofe to be right and good for his purpose, he bought it, ministring thereby mat­ter to the poore Alchimist to waste his braines about his endlesse search of his rich gold-hatching Elixar, though the others conscience made him esteeme this water farre more precious than the Philosophers-stone itselfe: yet never was he favoured with the opportunity of making use of it all the time of his long imprisonment in Sardinia, nor yet in Arelate, till the very night that should have preceded his ignominious death; But then [Page 63] being cast into a low prison not much pestered with company (as in sun­dry places is usuall and ordinary, to the end the condemned may dispose of what they have, and prepare themselves for death) he having by his waters vertue made brittle and beaten to pieces first his manacles and shackles, and then his heavy boults, escaped sheere away: And then, not knowing either whither to goe, or what course to take, his worse than bad inclination (depriving him of the least good thought) brought him to rob on the high-way; but being weary of the Gaules, he passed the Alpes, and got into the faire Provinces of Ausonia, where growne to be for his in­famy famous, he in a short time assembled all the murtherers and theeves of that Countrey, by whom he being proclaimed king of the fields, u­surp'd the authority of commanding often contributions and exactions, not onely from Villages and Castles, but even from walled Townes and strong Cities, till such time as being desirous of a staid life, he entred into the pay of the Eugaenean Republick, entertained by them to confront o­ther theeves like himselfe that pestered their sea coasts; but hee neither obeying them in any thing committed to his charge, nor going whither he was by them directed and sent, but busying his braines about the sack­ing of Cities, that he might afterwards retire againe to his wonted haunts, and sheltering groves, was ere he could execute his purpose set upon una­wares by the Generall of that noble people, and constrain'd to flie away with but sixteene of his consorts, leaving the rest a prey to the fish and Vulturs; whereof when sixty of them were hang'd, the rest were reser­ved for the galleyes: Hee in the meane time chanced to be wind-driven into Ericusa, where lighting on a Barke (that launching out of the Illirian Bay, was bound for Peucetia) laden with horses, he robb'd her of them, and then mounting thereon his confederates, was (as hee stood busied in putting them in order to disorder the Iland) unexpectedly arrived on by his old betrayed Master Don Elcimos, whose physiognomy and counte­nance, though not seene by him long time before, neverthelesse so stung his horrid conscience with a feeling of his owne infamous treachery, as his eyes unable to endure the justice-menacing-lookes of his betrayed Lord, forced him to fly his presence, but was as speedily pursued by him, who with prompt counsell mounted on one of the very same horses, and fiercely chased him, till the hapning of what hath beene already related.

Iust that very morning had Feredo put off his habit of Priesthood, so as it was now lawfull for him in his comming downe to buckle on his ar­mour, which hee alwayes kept in a by-roome for that purpose, thinking (nor did he therein thinke amisse) that such a store was no sore, as might steede no lesse a peaceable man in conserving his quiet, than a man of a contrary inclination to a contrary use. Yet had hee now no occasion to make use of them, the troupe of theeves being before he came, put to route and forced to yeeld; so as he needed to take no other care, than about Don Elcimos wounds, which though not very deepe, did yet somewhat trouble him in minde, because he had not wherewithall to cure them; but the patient himselfe making no reckoning of them, (for having beene used to be his owne Chirurgion) courteously thanking them all for their care­full loves, suffered himselfe to be convayed to the house, where with Tur­pentine incorporated with the yoalke of an egge (an easie and soone made [Page 64] medicine) hee in a few dayes cured himselfe.

Causing in that meane space to be brought before him all Catascopo's companions, and enformed by them at full of their quality and beeing, he determined to let them goe free, for not knowing what to doe with them; now, that he had already restored the horses and barke to the Merchants that owned them: Having therefore admonished and perswaded them to leave off that wicked course of life, he licensed them to depart, when one of them speaking for the rest, after having humbly thanked him for so great a favour, said thus unto him.

My life's Lord, we have promised you to leave off the wicked life which hitherunto we have led, and that surely with a sincere and fraudlesse inten­tion; because (if nothing else induced us so to doe) our very being wearied therewith necessarily enjoynes us thereto, besides the being impossible that fortune also be not as much wearied in conserving us. But yet no man can be bound to doe more than he can doe, wee are now in such a case as wee cannot live anywhere safe, since that the eye of justice being bent to­wards our past life, will (without making any reckoning of our present in­ternall repentance) punish us wheresoever we be resident. The proposi­tion therefore of reducing us to a civill life, is (though weebe most obse­quious thereto) a thing even unpossible for us to performe, since we enjoy not the least assurance of our secure living by such a life, our offences being innumerable, our enemies infinite, there being no Prince by us un­offended, and our selves, though accustomed to toylsomnesse and suffe­rings, yet be not enured to the miserablenesse of poverty or want, the sole motive that compels many men to take leude and desperate courses of life; Nay give me leave to tell you yet further, that any he of us that shall have the greatest desire to be reduced to a good course of life, cannot at­taine thereto but by wicked meanes, (and that is) by the murthering of one or more of us his companions, without whose deaths it is certaine he is sure not to obtaine the impunity of his delicts; therefore as it lay in your hands to give us both life and liberty, so may you also (if you please) conserve those lives of ours to a good use, without suffering them to be the meanes of greater misdeeds. You have here Catascopo dead, his head (so your goodnesse be pleased to give it us) is of a value sufficient, not only to restore us to our liberties, and procure us our free pardon in our owne Countries, but also to raise us to a competent estate, which may serve us to live honestly withall, it being worth many talents which shall be a­mong us equally shared.

This request of theirs no whit displeased Don Elcimos, who freely granting it, gave them leave to depart with it, and use it as they pleased. Whereupon they taking it off the trunke, emblamed it to preserve it from putrefaction, and then carried it to Parthenope the Metropolis of those happy Countries, where (crowned with a counterfeit Diadem) it was placed on the principall Gate for a perpetuall example.

Don Elcimos was courteously visited of all, and especially of Feredo, who having first heard Catascopo's name, and then seene his wicked head, knew him for that of the Traytors: But because Don Elcimos had need of repose, hee thought it unfit to trouble him with any discourse till the day following, and then he acquainted him with his being also a personall a­ctor [Page 65] in the Tragyck-comedy of that vertuous Princesse Eleina; the other astonished at so strange an accident, (with humbling himselfe before him more submissively than before) told him, he was heartily sorry to have had for companion in his miseries so worthy a Prince, howbeit hee now beleeved the Gods had so many yeares reserved Catascopo to make him in both their sights an example of his justice, to satisfie both of them the debt due to their revenge, the Princesse being partly avenged before by his long imprisonment.

The Prince afterwards falling into discourse of the generall affaires of the then-present times, and desirous to know why Polimero lived an exil'd Prince, the Count of Bona not knowing how to conceale himselfe, tels him what he was, relates unto him all Polimero's affaires, and what had hapned him from his first parting from Sardinia even to his second, where he continuing his discourse, proceeded in these words.

King Arato remain'd so profoundly heart-strucken with the death of Prince Perosphilo, that not ceding in his love to him to the Queene his Mo­ther, he would needs evidently testifie it, though not by being starke fran­tick as shee was, yet by raving in such a manner, that as oft as hee hapned to remember it, he (deprived of his understanding) spake and did things unworthy of his Regall quality; and if hee chanced to observe in any young Gentleman any extraordinary good parts, he would then instantly repine at them, as robb'd from his sonne, and withall extreamely hate such as owned them. But if there was any accomplish'd Gentleman, that in bodily feature and excelling qualities exceeded all others, and paragoni­zed Perosphilo, then surely that same one was the excellent Polimero, who returned from Mauritania with his wife and daughter, passed three yeares time without any notable disturbance, his father-in-lawe's doting humour being not as then growne up to its full ripenesse, but increasing proportio­nably with his age, and by his remarking every day more than other in Polimero such qualities as were peculiar in Perosphilo, he began first to envy and then by degrees to hate him, till at last he grew to that passe, that hee could not endure the sight of him.

In all things else Arato conserved his ancient prudence with other ver­tues wherewith he was well stored; nor were they alwayes obscured with this frantick humour of his, which being a motion of the imagination con­trary to the ordinary motion of reason, prevailed onely then when reason (oppressed with this frantick humour) remained impedited in its operati­ons, free in any other thing where the minde was not obstructed by its malignity, onely in this one thing he lost, nay went besides himselfe, so as there was no man about him that could or durst either shew him his error, or appease or divert him from the passion of his no lesse unreasonable than violent desire, either to see Polimero dead, or never to see him at all.

Eromena more troubled in minde with this than ought else that ever befell her, spake and did (good Princesse) what shee could; the same did also the Kings Councell: But (alas!) what good can perswasion worke upon a doting braine, that in its fancie formes things diversly from what they really are, by reason of the judgement and senses being corrupted and spoyl'd? But Arato finding the point of ridding him away to be dif­ficult to be resolved on, it treating of a Prince and his supposed successor, [Page 66] innocent, generally beloved, & behoovefull to commonweale and coun­trey, thought now to beguile his humour, in making the world beleeve, [...] was not he that he disaffected, but that the bow of his hatred (a strange and unheard-of fantasie) was bent against the babe, presumed heire to Pe­rosphilo, being such a one too as indeed together with the kingdome suc­ceeded him in perfections of body & mind, those of manly valour (though in a woman) not excepted; on her therefore spent he all the talent of his hatred, whilst shee (pretty soule) that with her sweete lovelinesse and quaint pratling was able to winne the hearts of the cruellest tigers, could never (for all that) any whit mollifie that of her braine-sick Grandfather, by whom shee being banished from Sardinia, was conveyed by her mo­thers affectionate care into Majorica, whither for some new progressions of the Tingitan, Metaneone was runne with his Eromilia, of both which shee was received with affections different from those of her Grandfa­ther, they compassionately bemoaning in the tendernesse of her yeares the hardnesse of her fortune, for which respect no body could ever after­wards endure to call her Lindadori, but ever by the nick-name of Donzel­la Desterrada (that is). A damosell expelled or banished her countrey.

Expresse I would (if knew how) the faire Eromena's griefes in their pure essence (especially at her parting from her deerely-tendred girle) and the adorations which shee made her father to remove him from that pas­sion, if the expression of them were lesse difficult than their imagination; yet this beteared privation neither augmented nor diminished, onely it ag­gravated his frensie, for not discerning before which of the two it was that he hated; but now seeing himselfe ridde of the one, which confoun­ded his judgement, in distinguishing the hatred he bare to the other, hee came to know that he had erred, the plummet of his passion falling not on Lindadori, but on Polimero; it may be, he would have thought the same of her if shee had staid, because the violence of the humour was come to such a passe, as it passed all limits of discretion and judgement, the first effects of his infirmity taking up all his minde, and staying it from pro­ceeding to any other operation. And withall, to contradict or disswade him from any of his Capricio's, was as dangerous as bootelesse, for then he becomming raging mad, both commanded as a King, and executed as an officer; the Court being taught by other mens harmes to shunne him in those fits, or at least to stand quiet without contrasting with him, who in the rage of his fury would have gone neere to have kill'd Eromena her selfe, had shee not prov'd as strong in resisting as discreete in evading his furious passions.

The noble-hearted Polimero was therefore constrained to give his hu­mour way, and to retire into Corsica, a kingdome (by his prowes) acquired and united to the Crowne of Sardinia. But because Eromena went often to see him, the crasie-brain'd King, upon calling to minde the repining hate of the Corses, the reason that Polimero had to detest him, the great­nesse of his reputation in both kingdomes, together with the neerenesse of his affinity and alliance with the two neighbouring Kings of Majorica and Mauritania, resolved not to have him by any meanes abide so neere him. And knowing that it was his best course to confirme his banishment with the authority of his Privie Councell (a prime article in the art of ru­ling, [Page 67] to make other men the authors of things odious and displeasing to the people) he call'd them unto him and told them:

That hee well knew that his kingdomes, and some (or perhaps all) of them there present disliked his demeanour towards his sonne-in-law (a Cavalier in all things else of royall parts, and reall worth) but yet that the reasons moving him so to doe were of so high a consideration, as would astonish them, were it but lawfull for him to publish them; That now then the same reason that before induced him to banish him from Sardinia, constrained him also now to exile him from Corsica; hee would have said from Majorica and Minorica too, if in those parts hee had had the same jurisdiction over him as King, as he had as predecessor and father-in-law; but where the one wanted, his intention and will was, that the other might supply its defects, with promising, that if (as a good sonne) hee so made appeare unto him the respects and observance he owed him by this implicite obedience, not retiring into Majorica or Mauritania places by him suspected, that then his such obsequiousnesse should serve as an in­strument to scrue into his favour by, and a prevailing Orator for obtaining leave for his more speedy returne, telling them plainely therewithall, That his sending for them to come to him, was not to aske their counsels, but to make them the authors of his, which he straightly enjoyn'd them to execute in such forme as best suited with the accomplishment of his desire.

The sweetly-majesticall Princesse that till that instant knew nothing of her fathers designe, remain'd blanke at such an Oration; what to resolve of shee knew not; contrasting with him being as perilous as profitlesse, till at last with bending one knee, shee thus briefly bespake him.

My Soveraigne Lord, there is no reason for any one to contradict your Royall will, and yet lesse for me than any other; yet, because I know that Prince Polimero is to you both a good sonne, and a loyall servant; and that though declared for such by your owne mouth, you are for all that resolved to banish him; it is not fitting that I (being his wife) be here con­senting to any such decree against him, much lesse by dissenting to oppose any will or command of yours. Which said, shee went her wayes out, though then neither her warlike ferocity, nor native generosity was able in that delicate sex to stop the lubrick channels of her eyes from dropping a few pearlike teares.

The King let her goe without speaking any word to her, but seemed by his actions to expresse, that he would not have her know all; the decree was hard to be expounded, it being unpossible for colours to subsist with­out any substance. But that which made it the more difficult, was, that the King unwilling to expresse himselfe, would yet have his intention effe­cted, as if they had understood him; which was the occasion, that they there spent the whole day about it, the Secretaries being puzled in pen­ning each his peculiar draught, and the King leaning on the shoulders while of the one and while of the other, was ever busied in reading, can­celling or interlining, all-to-be-blurring and blotting it, as black and foule indeede was all that was there done. At length a long edict was conclu­ded upon, couched in abstruse words with an equivocall sense, to make it the more difficult to be understood of any that would conster it in the right and worse sense, plainely discovering absolute authority in the [Page 68] whole, justice never a whit, words enough without any kinde of sense; The contents of as much as might be understood thereby was:

That Prince Polimero was at the request of the Privie Councell banish­ed both kingdomes (during his Majesties pleasure) for secret reasons con­cerning the State: In this decree were involved particular letters from some of the Councell to Polimero, wherein were plainely expressed their unwilling sorrow to be drawne to subscribe to such a resolution, beseech­ing him to retire to some place unsuspected, farre distant from the king­domes of Majorica and Mauritania, from which it lying not in their power to banish him, they did as good as pray him to banish himselfe, otherwise that the punishment of his transgression would be, his being deprived of all hope of ever being recalled againe.

Eromena presently upon her going out (as I told you) from the Coun­cell, gave order that (whilst shee arm'd her selfe) the fleetest galley that then rode in the bay should be made ready to part suddenly; nor knowing how otherwise to evaporate the bitternesse of the anger shee conceived against her father, shee wrote him a letter, and then accompanied onely with Aretia and a few servants, shee went to the port, where turning to­wards those that had attended her thither, shee said unto them.

Countrie-men and friends, I goe in expedition of a businesse that much imports both yee and me, I leave you in a setled peace, and recommend to your care, obedience, and love, the King and Realme; and you Count of Toralba I shall enjoyne to deliver the King this letter.

The people that no lesse loved than honoured her, seeing her arm'd at all peies (a habit not used to be worne by her, save in time of warre or tourneyes) remain'd amaz'd thereat, kissing with all affectionate reve­rence some her faire hands, and other some the skirt of her bases; but she causing the ladder to be hoist a-boord the galley, that none might follow her, went a-boord the long boate, and then (without permitting either the Ghing to salute, or any Trumpet to be touch'd) launch'd out, steering a direct course for Sardinia, where the second day shee safely arrived, and being there landed, would not suffer any other messenger than her selfe to bring her husband the newes of her arrivall thither.

Polimero abode in Corsica adored by all, insomuch as even those, to whom (by occasion of the warres) he had beene somewhat prejudiciall, seeing now in so many occasions his royall demeanour, grew to be so af­fectionate towards him, as that they accounted their losses well imploy­ed, for having made so advantageous an exchange of Epicamedo for him: And though his domesticall affaires, as the privation of his wife and daughter much troubled his minde, yet the noble company of the Mar­quesse of Oristanio & other accomplish'd Gentlemen much sollaced him, who also discreetly endeavoured to weane his mind from griefe, by being alwayes employed in some exercise or other.

And now it so pleased fortune, that he was that day rode forth on hun­ting that very same way that Eromena came galloping to finde him out, who hearing the winding of the hornes, and deepe crie of the hounds, imagined what was there a doing; following therefore the crie, shee ar­rived unawares just as the Prince, the Marquesse, and I were alighted to the fall of a goodly Stagge: Shee leaping from off her horse into her [Page 69] husbands armes (that with great amazement was by then runne to helpe her downe) having affectionately kissed him with out answering to his de­mand of her sudden comming, would needs come benignely to greete us and all the rest one after another.

The Prince most glad of this unexpected encounter, said unto her; Your comming (sweete Lady of my blisse) cannot prove but most welcome and happy unto me, be it for what occasion it will; though in token of my extreame content I cannot (at this present) dedicate to your welcome o­ther than the life of this Hart.

The tired beast lay on the ground expecting his death with beteared eyes, grieving perhaps, that Nature having beene liberall in enduing him with so long a life (if what is thereof reported be true) humane cruelty for an inhumane delight corrupted his enjoying it, without the curiosity of as much as trying in him, whether his life could extend it selfe to many ages; whether hee had in himselfe any such discourse or no I know not, though I well know, that the gentle Eromena, accoasting and seeing him a goodly one, and to seeme (at the very point of death) to begge favour at her hands, answered: Be your present (my endeer'd Lord) waited on by a good augury, which I accept with a better, and will (so please you) that he live: with this, calling for the huntsmen, shee asked them what yeares he might be of; But because the Gods gave us the world in controversie, not excluding as much as those things whereof practique and observation are our masters, they could never accord about his yeares, by reason of their disagreeing in the markes of his age: The beliefe then of knowing any thing certaine, so as others thinke they have not their certainties to contradict it, is a beliefe notoriously false.

The Princesse (whose minde was busied in a more important thought) remounting with the rest, rode towards the Citie, where being come, shee would needs have the Marquesse and my selfe to be partakers of her re­lation contained in a few words: By which shee unfolded her fathers ob­stinate minde, her departing without his leave, and resolution to live and dye with her husband; discourse there was enough, without (for all that) so much as once proposing any thing that savoured of violence; the Mar­quesse and I being old enough to know what are the troubles of a civill warre, especially of such a one which (for all the reasons making for it) cannot but bee unjust against a father with the schisme of subjects and states; and they though young, and undeservedly hardly used, being yet of a sweete nature, patiently bare with the author of their injuries, choo­sing rather to suffer, than to endeavour to avenge or right themselves.

The whole difficulty consisted in the choyse of a place to reside in; for Majorica and Mauritania being prohibited, they knew not whither to betake themselves; wee argued a long time whether or no it were her best course to follow him, and leave the Realme in the hands of a frantick father, whose infirmity might encourage the Corses to attempt innovati­ons, spurr'd on by the Tingitan with promises of men and shipping. Be­sides, the ill constitution of Sardinia whose dangers were manifest, by reason of the intelligences of bandities (beeing the reliques of the Admi­ralls conspiracie) who, back'd by the Tingitan, daily wrought and per­swaded their kinsfolkes and allies to revolt; which once hapning, who [Page 70] alas was there then to sustaine the ruine, shee being farre off, the Corses become rebels, and the King for his weakenesse contemned? these reasons the Princesse would neither give eare to, nor admit of. Polimero knowing them to be good as he opposed them not, so contradict his wife hee durst not, yet wish'd he that some body else would perswade her to stay: but because the decree was not as yet come thither, and that for the executing thereof there was no necessity of an immediate departure, they resolved to stay till it came, their deliberations in the meane while ripening with the priviledge of this short time.

Arato gone out from the Councell, was by the Earle of Toralba pre­sented with Eromena's letter, whereat he asking if shee could not come to speake to him her selfe? No (my Liege) answered the Count, for shee is some two houres since gone aboord the vice-admirall and lanch'd out without acquainting any body whither shee went, but for ought was seene shee made towards the Promontory of the East. Arato confused in mind opened the letter, which I afterwards often read, so as I beleeve I shall not faile much in repeating it, whose tenor was such.

My Soveraigne Liege, I goe to Corsica to finde out Polimero, a husband taken by me by your Royall assent, a Prince every way worthy and ac­complish'd, to whose vertue and prowes the kingdome owes its conser­vation, and you both the Crowne of Corsica and Perosphilo's revenge. I know not whether I ought or no to excuse my selfe for departing without your Royall leave, nor yet in case I should, know I to whom to doe it, to a King, or to a father; your Majestie using towards me the power of the distinct person of a King, and quite debarring me from the priviledge of the other; I well know that I speake to a King, yet forget I not that I am a Kings daughter and heire, and that I ought to be used as such a one. I am sure I have ever honoured you as a daughter, served you as a vassall, and borne with your passions in so obsequious a manner, as other than such as have the gift of obedience (as I have) could not have done. I will not (my Liege) exaltmine owne merits, though the having the power to trans­gresse and not to doe it, is in some respects esteeme-worthy. Onely I must tell you, that as I have from you the right of the Realmes succession by nature, so have you from me the possession thereof by prowes, for (though as then a may den) I onely with the assistance of Prince Polimero saved both it to you, and you to it; and did (when your infirmities brought you to be uncapable of holding its scepter) binde it to your hand, and with my owne hands fastened on your head the kingdomes Crowne: whereas you now suffer your selfe to be upbraided, rather than you will acknowledge, much lesse remunerate the deserts of others, so constraining mee to leave you for your unjustly-depriving me of my husband, and more cruelly be­reaving me of my daughter, to whom by the Lawes both of God and na­ture the mother is so expressely bound to tender and bring up; from which since I cannot otherwise conjecture, than that your pleasure is to live all alone in the world, I leave you to live so (in Gods name) and pray Heaven (to the end you may the longer live) to showre on you all content and hap­pinesse. Eromena.

This letter wrought not that effect that reason required it should, for, the King more enraged for it than before, would (by all means) [Page 71] disinherit his daughter, suspending the decree against his son-in-law, with an intention to unite them in the fault, that so he might winde them both in one punishment; so as it was very difficult to weane him from that hu­mour, with the considerations of his being aged, his having no other childe, and the being of no other Princes of the blood to succeede him, have the Marquesse of Oristanio, who was not onely old and issuelesse, but above all others the most faithfull servant to Eromena and her husband: Besides the being of Corsica in dange to be lost, for, being environed with enemies, and bereft of her friends, unlesse it yeelded to the subjection of the Tingitan, the onely meanes to deprive (together with his daughter and grandchilde) himselfe also of the Sardan Crowne, since other than he would never accept of a kingdome in the midst of the sea, so farre di­stant, with so many difficulties, and undergoe the charge and trouble of defending it from so many enemies, which were Right, the Corses, the Moores, and the Balears.

The King bare an innate hatred to the Tingitan, than whom hee knew no other would have accepted the proffer of succession, being so deere a purchase, considering the danger & charge wherewith it was to be main­tained; but that which most of all vexed him, was, to thinke that his children in all probability would (if all other helpes failed) put them­selves (out of meere desperation) under his protection, which hee would not see come to passe for as much as his life was worth. Doubting there­fore, lest they should settle themselves in Corsica, and bee there crowned, he commanded his horse and foote to be suddenly mustered, marching himselfe in person towards Luogodori, followed by all the Nobility and attended by his Councell. Hee received by the way the Marquesse of Oristanio's letters with newes of the Princesse's arrivall, and how that ex­pecting the decree against her husband, shee prepared to accompany him in his banishment: Hence taking occasion he shewed him the discon­tents and inconveniences that might thence arise, displaying before him his sonne-in-lawes merits, with the advantages hee had in keeping him neere him.

The King was upon these newes somewhat pacified that his daughter departed not for any evill intent of doing him any hurt, yet not quite freed from suspitions, and resolved not to suffer Polimero to live either at home or neere him, hee wrote to the Marquesse, sending him the Councels de­cree, and commanding him to put it in execution, composed neverthelesse of moderate words, as if he desired rather to triumph over his sonne-in­lawes obedience, than to harbour any intention of keeping him long a farre off him; The same made he his daughter also beleeve, writing unto her a kinde letter, and recalling her home with the hope of her husbands speedy returne.

These letters being read, Polimero knew not what to resolve of, well conceiv'd hee that the humbling himselfe to his father-in-law could not but be imputed unto him for glory, so as the satisfying of his desire trou­bled him not, but to be deprived of a beloved wife, & debarr'd of either seeing his daughter, saluting his brother, or visiting his father, without knowing whither to betake himselfe, was that which tortured him much, but much more Eromena, who not caring for her father, was resolved to [Page 72] neglect all other affaires and follow him; company (God wot) of all o­thers to him the deerest, and incomparably most desired, but yet neither expedient or necessary; Oppose her (as I have already said) hee would not, love being a thing too too delicate, and too much incumbred with feares and jealousies; Who knowes (thought he with himselfe) but that prudence may be by her construed for an effect of small love, which (for being blinde) neither sees nor admits of vertues if they thwart it, nor any other affect save it selfe? But the Marquesse and I wrought so much, that wee both perswaded the one, and disposed of the other. The agreement was, that shee should stay, because that besides her watchfulnesse over the state-affaires, shee might light on an opportunity of procuring his more speedy returne, and that he should travell towards the East, where having spent such time as he pleased in seeing of forraine countries, hee might (in case his returne were not by that time procured) make his abode in some part of Greece; Athens was named for the place of correspondencie, whither were to be directed, sent, and conveyed their letters, messengers, and monies. Of this his resolution to part, they sent the King word, to free him (as much as in them lay) of his doubts and jealousies, which the Prin­cesse also signified unto him by writing, praying withall leave to stay there till her husbands departure, wherewith hee was well contented, not abandoning (for all that) the sight of Corsica, but standing alwayes in a readinesse with his Army, and Galleyes prest to crosse the channell if oc­sion requir'd.

The few dayes that the Prince spent with his wife were by her passed in qeeping and heavinesse, which made us endeavour to hasten his depar­ture, that so shee might the lesse waste her selfe with the imagination of this privation; but the day being come, shee said thus unto him.

I see then (my Lord) you will goe, and leave behinde you your Ero­mena, which wanting you will want both heart and soule, impossible will it be for her to live being separated from you, or if any thing keepe her alive, it must needs be the hope of seeing you againe shortly. I am sorry that her love hath so small interest in you, as that other considerations exceede it; such force have they not in her, whom if you permit to goe along with you (as by your mutuall affection shee thereto conjures you) no losse (though it were the heaviest that could be by any imagination conceived) shall then taste bitter in her pallate, might it be but sugred with the unexpressable sweetnesse, which shee shall receive in being present to serve you; with that word she affectionately kiss'd him without ceasing to importune him with more earnest entreaties mingled with her teares, till hee being no longer able to refraine from accompanying her in the weep­ing-expression of her heavinesse, return'd her this answer.

I part hence (deere directresse of my destiny) 'tis true! but not so, as not to have you continually with mee; the tempest of my travels shall ever have repose in the pleasant calme of your ever-deere memory, the onely soveraigne cordiall to my misfortunes; which without it would sinke me into the gulfe of an unmedicable despaire; as for my love I can­not imagine how you can in the best manner doubt of it, or how you can but imagine that I can preferre any necessity how urgent-soever before that of enjoying your presence, since it is in you onely that I both joy and [Page 73] live. But if such whose judgements are not clouded with our passions hold it convenient, the execution of it then depends on you; for, I not ha­ving the power to discontent you in any thing, would much more unwil­lingly displease you in that whereon all my content and joy depends.

Their kisses confused among their teares were numberlesse, their grievings measurelesse, all in extreames and endlesse. But goe hee needs must howsoever; I would have had our departure to have beene about midnight without making any words of it, but that the Marquesse would not; laying before our eyes the distaste which shee would have conceived threat, beside the being unpossible for us to steale away whilst shee lay asleepe, for shee as then never clos'd her eyes; the last parting-words were Polimero's concerning his daughter, which were not well heard of any, or at least I was so heart-stucken with their griefes as I heeded them not; but I suppose that their purport were to advise her not to take away their daughter from her uncle, as long as Arato continued in his madde whimsees.

Arrived that we were in Greece, I would by all meanes passe further on, and accompany him whithersoever he went: But no sooner came wee to Athens, than that he made me returne back to bring tidings of him: Ac­cordingly I went, and carried first to Mauritania to the King his father the packet I had for him, and thence passed over into Sardinia, where ha­ving with his letters and my relations comforted Eromena, I found unex­pectedly the King a quite altered man; for hee not onely (contrary to his wonted custome) vouchsafed to admit me to his presence, but also with great tendernesse kindly asked me how his sonne-in-law did. And I being afterwards desirous to goe to Maurica to see the young Princesse, he hearing her but named, was suddenly moved with a passionate tendernesse of affection, which made him (after he had stood a pretty while silent) say thus unto me:

My Lord, you shall doe me a speciall courtesie in thanking the King of Majorica and Prince Metaneone his sonne-in-law for the favours I receiv'd from them in my Lindadori, and to tell them, that I meane shortly to send to fetch her away, which friendly office I would have now pray'd you to have done me, if I thought that you could passe with her hither in safety. But our seas being full of the vessels of the Tingitan, I doubt shee cannot safely be conveyed hither without a fleete, and I hope that to strengthen the convoy, both he and the King of Mauritania will for such an occasion prove so courteous, as to lend me their galleyes. The Princesse (hearing this) ranne to kisse his hands, and he courteously (lifting her up) kissed her on the cheeke, promising her to performe it the next Spring, willing her (in the meane time) to take the charge of putting all the galleyes in a rea­dinesse, and me on his behalfe to write to Mauritania, and to further the offices which he would cause to be there done by his Embassadour; ad­ding, that he would to that end send by me letters to the King and Prince of Majorica. And further promising her (on his Royall word) that when this were done, he would (for the accomplishment of her content) imme­diately recall Prince Polimero, assuring her, that he was already well plea­sed, that he came when he thought good.

Having heard this good newes, and sent them in writing to Polimero, I [Page 74] went to Majorica, where I found the no more now Lindadori, but Donzella Desterrada, so displeased at her grandfather, as that shee openly and plain­ly said, that shee would never see him more; which I at first conceiving to be some by-phrase that some Lady had taken pleasure to teach her to say by rote, perceived it afterwards to be no such matter, sithence her uncle and aunt, and all the rest with perswasions, and pretty alluring toyes, en­deavoured to winne her to the contrary, though to no purpose; for, the generous girle, by reciting the occasions she had to disaffect him, shewed, that such conceits were her owne, and not infused into her by others.

Arato (by this time fully returned to his senses) not onely disliked his former extravagancies, but was sorry that hee heard no newes from his sonne-in-law, who (not making account to returne till after his father-in­lawes death) was parted for Greece, with a resolution to survey the ut­most parts of the earth, leaving in Athens his letters which were received of Eromena, with that heavinesse which an interrupted hope brings with it. Faine would shee have gone in person to seeke him out; but Arato u­sing no more now the authority either of a King or father, shewed her so many disswasive reasons, and so earnestly entreated her to the contrary, that she yeelded to his perswasions upon the uncertainety of finding him out.

For Donzella Desterrada were galleyes a trimming, and new ones a buil­ding in three severall Arcenalls; meane while the Tingitan had his spies every where, it being ordinary with him to spend more on them than on his souldiers.

The South hath for its scourge the Tingitan, as the North hath the Scandinavian, who for their age, nature, and ends, a man would take for one and the same thing; In those parts the one enjoyes all, in these the o­ther confounds, entangles and devoures all that he can; shewing himselfe very liberall to the corruption of States, taking example from the corrup­tion of an humane body, after which followes sicknesse, and after sick­nesse death. Being fortunate in having an advantage over all other Princes, not one of them using such pollitick reaches and cunning wayes in gover­ning as he doth; for which sole reason he would by this time have gotten into his subjection all that part of the world, if the great body of his dominions, and monstrous division of its members (which in maintaining themselves contrast with nature) had not made the end of his designes al­most impossible. The three kingdomes of Majorica, Sardinia, and Mauri­tania lye so neere and fit for him, that he thinkes himselfe no King till hee acquire those, so as he hath many complices in every of them, brought to bee at his devotion by pensions and hopes which many times prevaile more than even present gifts themselves; for, when Kings governe after the manner of ancient times, when there were not any superior forces, without altering upon new occasions their old forme of government, they doe (in some sort) foreshew their downe-fall; whereupon the more am­bitious, aspiring to the raising of their owne particular fortunes, cannot choose but desire if not attempt the ruine of their Prince and Countrey.

The Tingitan then having understood by these his spies, the secret pre­paration of the fleete with the occasion thereof, was exceeding glad of it, and being rich of invention hatch'd many projects, whereof he would be [Page 75] well content if but any one tooke effect. First then he sent Embassadors to all three, to expresse how sorry he was, that the pirates (without any feare or danger) insolently scoured all the coasts, and commanded the sea, whilst their galleyes (to the common prejudice) lay rocked in their havens, of three things therefore he demanded any one, that they would agree to, (which were) either that they would cleare the seas alone, or unite themselves with him, or else give way to him to cleare them alone at his owne sole charge, which he would doe, upon condition, that the parts of all three stood open and free for him, and that withall his fleet might have for money such provision as it should stand in need of.

This embassie was by the wiser States-men taken for a martiall defi­ance, and the Embassadours reputed for Harrolds, who entertaining them­selves at the charge of the Kings, (under pretext of staying for new Com­missions) pried into the secrets of the King and State that entertained them, the poasts and vessels of intelligence (in the meane while) going and comming incessantly without any businesse; long it was ere the answers were return'd, by reason of the Kings communicating them betweene them, that so they might the better accord on them; for which end I was sent from Prince Metaneone to Sardinia, and thence to Mauritania. The summe of their contents was;

That the Tingitan complain'd of what they had farre more reason to complaine of, none of them having to doe in that businesse. Sithence as for the Kingdome of Majorica, that (alas!) could not be tearmed other than a point (as it were) in the Mediterranean, and withall stood so farre distant from Africk, as there was no reason to charge it, where it had nei­ther utility nor interest. That the parts neerest it were the Tingitans now acquists in Iberia, and the farthest off it Africk it selfe, being the Tingitan's ancient possession, so as the defence thereof concerned him most, the pi­rates (a few excepted) being his naturall subjects, and nested in his owne ports, where he might (if he pleased) take them without a fleet; a deede well becomming both the justice of a good King, and power of a great Monarch.

The same was answered for Sardinia, for being separated from Africk and its commerce; shee trafficking and trading with the opposite shores of Gaule, Liguria, and Ausonia; adding, that shee was sorry for the inso­lent roaving of the pirates, whose pride shee would be glad to see abated; yet held it not fitting to doe with more that which well might as well be done with lesse; especially since each by himselfe (but with an unani­mous accord) might in one and the same time pursue and extirpate them, if the neighbouring Kings would but accord as well to doe good, as they did to effect what was evill: which was not indeede to be hoped for, because the pirates being his subjects and harboured in his ports, had cor­respondencie with many great ones, and (what imports more) the speech went, that they were countenanced by him himselfe.

And for Mauritania the answer was, That shee wondred at his demand, shee suffering no dammage by such rascally sea-scummers, who having their abode in Tingitana, lye lurking onely for the shipping of the Ocean, from whom they got more than they were like to get from his, and whose being so molested and hindered, redounded to the Tingitan's no small [Page 76] profit, the greater part of them being such as before were his subjects, and colourably pretend to be rebels against him; besides, that in case she were any way incommodated by them, shee would not expect to be led on or assisted by any other, but would with her owne sole forces & power cha­stise them conformable to their demerits. So might the Tingitan also doe (if he listed) being potent enough to effect it, without borrowing forreine galleyes, or needing the use of forreine havens.

This last answer netled the Tingitan more than the other two, which he had made knowne to the world too; but that hee had enough to doe else-where, yet being desirous to lay a foundation to the ruine of that kingdome confining with him by a long space of ground, besides its being that of his, its competitor by name, and ancient enemy by neighbourhood, he bethought himselfe how to gaule him another way, without making any shew of it, and that was, by putting in execution a conceit of his, sprung from his fertile braine many yeares before.

There stands East of Mauritania the Iland Melita, of a most strong scituation, under the command of a particular Prince; many times had the Tingitan thought with himselfe, that to separate the countries, he had acquired in the West of Europe from their assistants in the East, it behoved him to become Lord of the sea, without which he was never able to en­joy his acquists, nor to pretend claime to the rest, or live much above the common opinion of other ordinary Princes: But not knowing where to set footing, he was advertised, how that in this Iland (owning most ample ports, under the jurisdiction of a weake Prince) he might by sending thi­ther unexpectedly a strange fleete, build a good fortresse, wherewith hee might not only shut up the ports on that part of that sea, as he had block't up on the other part those of the Ocean by his conquests in Iberia, but also make way to the conquering of Sicily, and by it to that of Ausonia, barring up the passage betweene Sicily and Africk, and penning in the Ilands within it, together with Mauritania, so as all those Kings could never hope to be succoured by other than their owne forces.

This project till now being (as I said) immature in the fertile soyle of his braine-plot, grew upon this occasion to be fully ripened; for, gathe­ring together his galleyes (under pretence of sending them against pi­rates) and ballacing them with tooles and materialls to build withall, he first scouring amaine along those coasts, passed before Majorica and Sar­dinia to terrifie them, and then (with his sayles swollen with a faire stiffe gale of winde) went and landed unawares at port Euro in Melita, where (disembarking his troupes) hee in a few dayes built a fortresse, which at this day is unexpugnable. To the Prince's Embassadours (that came to know what that fleete pretended was answered, that the King of Tingita­na, taking into his carefull consideration the safety of that sea, because of the large share of dominions hee had thereabouts, (desirous to cleanse it from pirates, and understanding that the Prince of Melita kept so impor­tant a port in danger of being seised on by some forreine power for want of being fortified) had sent to build the sconce they there saw, for the good of the Iland, Prince, and all the Mediterranean Kings: A charity by the Embassadours judged tyrannie and wicked hypocrisie, as if it were lawfull to rob and enjoy that which is another mans, for feare some other [Page 77] should rob him of it and possesse it. To this they answered, that their owne Prince would make one himselfe; whereunto was replied, that then he should doe well to treate of it with their King, for that subjects were bound to execute such orders as they received.

The walls being thus reduced to a defensive forme, the Generall leaving there a strong Garrison and a Squadron of thirty galleyes, returned back, passing and repassing in a braving manner before the channell of Birsa, so to hinder Catalampo from joyning with Arato: It was my chance to bee then there, where I saw the Mauritanian King stand a good while in a muse not knowing what to resolve of; at length hee thought of dispat­ching me into Sardinia, for counselling Arato to send privily to fetch a­way the litle Princesse with a swift shallop under my conduct, saying, that in desperate cases unlook'd for attempts thrive best. Since he could not pos­sibly unite himselfe with him and Majorica, for being hindered by the fleete that coasted his kingdome, but much more for the danger hee re­main'd in, if when he wanted his fleete, the enemy came and assail'd him; besides, that although they were joyn'd, yet lay it not in their power (ri­ding as they must have done in the open sea) to shunne the fight, wherein if they chanced to have the worst, then they lost all, if the better, yet could they not reape from that victory other fruite than forcing the ene­my to a retreate, their forces being too weake to assault him at his owne home, the ordinary disadvantage of all those that warre in defence.

Having received my instructions, I passed over to Sardinia upon a gal­ley re-inforced to the full, where having delivered my embassage to A­rato, I added: That if the counsell seemed dangerous in his eyes, it might then very well be suspended, there being not any urgent necessity that re­quired (for ought I knew) the returne of the Princesse in that instant, since that Metaneone and Eromilia tendred her deerer than any daughter of their owne, and would be loath to hazard her unnecessarily to so great a dan­ger. Vpon this Eromena seeming to sparkle fire out of her eyes, turning towards her father thus bespake him.

My Lord and Soveraigne, it is a foule shame for us to endure to be so braved and cubb'd in as we are; the returne of my daughter (though nor otherwise necessary than to enjoy the favour you have done me) should be hastened, were it but to let the Tingitan see, that hee with all his forces are not able to hinder it, my opinion therefore is, that embracing the King my father-in-lawes counsell, you send the Count of Bona to fetch her a­way.

The King consenting thereto gave order to the Admirall to arme se­cretly the shallop of the Royall, and to double-man her with the best and choysest of the whole fleete. I embarked my selfe the very same night, leaving my owne galley riding in the bay, which made every one thinke, that I was in Caleri, the King giving out, that I was sick, and causing a fame to be spread abroad by a most trusty physitian of his, that my disease was both infectious, very dangerous, and past all hope of recovery, with strictly forbidding all men from comming to visite me.

I, in the meane time (resting neither day nor night, but changing rowers every five miles, and leaving some to repose themselves whilst the others laboured) arrived (by force of oares in the still calm of summer with fresh [Page 78] ghing) at Majorica; where wondring to see me come in such a vessell so unexpectedly, they expected some bad newes after the subjection of Me­lita; but the letters being read, they resolved to deliver me, the Princesse, that I might depart with her that very night; and shee (being already in­formed of the altering of her grandsires humour) was now most willing to returne; for though shee loved well her aunt, yet had shee a great de­sire to see her mother; whom though shee did not otherwise remember than (as it were) in a dreame, yet hearing that shee was fierce and marti­ally given, shee thought every houre an yeare till shee might feast her eyes with the delightsome spectacle of seeing her clad in compleate armour, that she also might arme her selfe with her. Shee was then neere thirteene yeares of age, of a stature somewhat taller than ordinary, and withall so well proportioned, and in her deportment so gracefull, as that shee had not her equall; her manners and demeanour were formed altogether after the Idea of honour by nature, education, and hight of courage; for the rest, shee was endued with peculiar pure spirits, and inclinations quite different to those of all other girles, yea and unto her very sex; It griev'd her to be a woman, because shee could not endure man should be term'd her supe­rior, which made her professe him open enmity. Love shee would and hate too without any mediocrity, friendship shee would have to exceede reason, and reason to be trampled under the feete of disdaine; being all affects extreame, and unjust, but yet generous.

Whilst then it was thought, that I (wearied with my sea-voyage) lay sleeping in bed, having taken leave of the King and Metancone, and of Eromilias teares (the children-princes and all the rest knowing nothing of this my parting) I embarked this martiall girle, accompanied with one onely damosell and two Knights: and returned (in the same manner as I came) without any breath of winde, when the third night the arising of a thick dusky cloud (the Moone then not appearing for being weary of running through almost all the Signes of the Zodiake) so deprived us of the benefit of our sight, that in the maine sea, we (thinking we were runne against some rock) fell foule on the larbur side of a fleere-galley of pirates, which (carried by the tide) fell towards us. The shallop entangled in the shrowdes could not put off, & the pirates (perceiving themselves shrewd­ly bruised) fell to their Armes, and killing some of our Oare-men, became master of our shallop, ere wee could well put our selves in defence.

My griefe for this unexpected disaster cannot be described, whose un­supportablenesse would surely have forced me to drowne my selfe, had there not sprung from my heart I know not what kinde of hope, which raised my spirits to that hight of boldnesse, as to aske who they were, whereunto they as boldly answering mee, prov'd to be such as I well knew; yet doubting lest they should violate the Princesse, I (turning to­wards the principall among them) said thus unto him:

Captain, you have in your hands a prey of a great value, from which you may raise as great an utility, I beseech you then to use her with all due re­spects, for which I promise you such a ransome as shall well merit your being courteous unto her; upon this hee asking me who I was, I told him freely; and for the Princesse, though I once thought to faine her my daughter, yet doubting my being found a lyar, would redound the more [Page 79] to her prejudice, and knowing that the worst was but a matter of ransome, I preferr'd her security before any interest of treasure whatsoever. Hee (glad of so rich a booty) promised me to use her with all the respects that could be, praying me onely to bring her aboord the shippe, where shee should be well accommodated more at her ease in a convenient chamber.

The Princesse that from out the poope Roome of the shallop had heard all, yet spake never a word, till after shee had caused her selfe to be halfe cloath'd, shee asked who was there? whereupon I acquainted her with our misfortune, but yet told her, that we were in the hands of a noble fel­low that would not suffer her to be any way injured; whereunto shee (being very sleepy and voyde of apprehension, peering out in the darke through the caban window, answered, that it was no great matter; yet changing her disposition in an instant, with shaking off her drowsinesse, and making a reflection upon my words, seeing before her the shippe and those smotty-faces, shee concealing her disdainefull anger, said, shee would sleepe no more, because it was day, which by then was so indeede, the cloudes together with the night vanishing away for feare of the fiery looke of the approaching Sunne.

Then wee passed over into the shippe, where we were with interessed kindnesse conveniently accommodated in the Castle of the poope, with­out being pestred with any of their company, and bringing thither our bedding, they laid the Princesse's bed in a litle chamber, whereon she lay a while in her clothes, causing her woman to lye downe by her.

The pirates searching our shallop, and finding nought there (save victu­alls, our Armes, and the Princesse's Iewels) towed her along, having first assur'd her with six of their men to secure her from the rowers already dis­armed.

At Sunne-rising there began to breathe a gentle breath of winde, so as desirous to spread the sayles, one of the saylors came abaft to the misen mast neere us, and where the Princesse (come out of her chamber with her Gentlewoman, to shunne the sweltry hot ayre of her caban) was laid her downe upon a quilt. This fellow being a lusty young lad (as soone as he espied them) in beastly manner threw himselfe upon the Gentlewo­man that was neerest him, straightly embracing her to force a kisse from her, The Princesse not accustomed to such sports, seising on a whinyard shee spyed hanging at his side, stabb'd him with many thrusts, not with­out endangering th Gentlewoman; the young fellow escaping out of her hands, lept downe, shewing of himselfe a miserable spectacle to his com­panions.

The Castle of the poope was the standing-place of the archers, and therefore well furnished with bowes, arrowes, speares, and javelings to steede them in occasions of boording. The Princesse tooke a bow in hand without any further intention, than to assay if shee had well learnt that art. Whilst the pirates looking for no worse than what was past, desirous to chastise our boldnesse, and not beleeving that such stabbes were given by a maydens hand, would needs come up to us: wee (fortified by the oddes of our side) kept them off with halfe pikes wee there found, which (for all that) had done us but small service, if the Princesse had not secured us with her bow, whose ascendent being Sagittarius it was no marveile, if [Page 80] shee never shot that shee either wounded or kill'd not.

I seeing the two sides well defended, seconded the stout Princesse with another bow, the Gentlewoman supplying both of us with arrowes; but it was not possible for me to levell one shaft aright, for shee triumphing in her hits, came to me to rejoyce for them, as it our shooting had beene in jest, and those living bodyes immoveable markes not to be accounted of. Our good-fortune indeede was the indiscretion of the pirates, who excepting in the poope, and on maine Top, had never a bow; therefore they went climing along the shrowdes to get to the maine-yard, but ere they scarce could proffer to touch a rope, they still fell downe dead or wounded; yet they having no other save this one (though dangerous) way to releeve themselves, thought to attempt it in so many severall pla­ces at once, as the obstinate resolution of many might gaine time of our few shaftes, so as they endeavoured to get up by clammering by three and three upon divers severall tackles.

The Princesse glad to have the pleasure of varying her shots ministred her by their so varying of her markes, bethought her of a subtiltie fitter indeede to be experimented some other time; and that was, to try if (lea­ving the men) shee could cut in two the shrowdes; whereupon making her ayme at the file of the rope, shee clove it in twaine, which for being well twisted, received the blow for them that climb'd it up; but being un­able to beare their waight, burst just in the cloven place, letting the three fall downe on the hatches betweene dead and stupified: Of this shot the Princesse was so exceeding joy full, as shee ranne to embrace me, shewing me (by pointing at) those that tumbled downe with such gladsomnesse, as greater shee could not have conceived at any recreative spectacle whatso­ever. And I busied in shooting, did applaude her for it, to the end shee might neither give over her selfe nor hinder me.

The Captaine seeing the bloody slaughter of his men, stood crying, and lifting up his hand, with a desire (it should seeme) to speake some thing: Be there the Princesse deeming that posture of his worthy one of her arrowes, shot at him, wherewith she nail'd fast his hand to his mouth, as if the one had enjoyn'd the other to silence, so as in the selfe same time shee paid and he received her ransome. In fine, shee slew so many of them, as I with the two Knights durst (though unarm'd) descend to make an end of the rest, who were crouch't and squatted downe to shelter and hide themselves, some behinde the masts, and others beneath in the sinke.

In the shall op were heard these great out-cries, though the occasion thereof was unknowne, till the accoasting of the six to one of the sides af­forded our Knights the commodity to tell our Oare-men that the ship was by us taken, and all her men slaine; whereupon they, suddenly assaulting their guardians, slue three of them, and had not then staid their hands, but for my crying out to them to save the rest alive.

The Princesse then laying aside her bow, return'd all-quiet into her shallop, and having given the sack of the ship unto her rowers, wee set her a fire and so left her, arriving in Caleri the day following.

The King understanding that shee was arrived at the haven, would needs goe in person to meete her, followed with such shoutings for joy by the Court, Citie, and whole kingdome, as the like was not seene for many [Page 81] yeares before. The old King could never satiate himselfe in making much of her, and blaming himselfe for his fault, for which he had done suffici­ent penance by being (for so long a time) deprived of her all-delighting company. Eromen a likewise (giving full reines to her extreame affection) expressed unto her a mothers unparalleled tendernesse to an only childe.

Whilst thus shee stood halfe-extasied with joy, there were presented her letters from Polimero, written from Pelusio, wherein he promised to returne shortly into Greece; Whereupon both father and daughter praid me to goe to finde him out, and bring him home: Whence being for this effect parted, I hapned to come hither in the manner you already wote of.

Extreame was the delight which all of them conceived at the Count's narration; in way of courteous expression where of the Prince assur'd him, he would not depart till he saw him accommodated, who soone after sent Cataulo to the Prince of Feacia (that resided not farre thence in one of his houses of pleasure) with order to tell him who hee was, and also to ac­quaint him with his resolution of parting thence, (though not without first thanking him for the favours received of him) and to intreate him, that he might (with his Princely assent) leave that place to a Knight, who be­ing banished from his Countrey, would (so it stood with his Highnesse good liking) make his abode there. Hee charged him further, to enquire out for some ship bound for Greece.

Full sorry was the old Prince, for having had in his house vail'd under such a habit so great a Prince, without honouring him conformable to his high quality; causing therefore his horses to be sadled, he went to visite him. Feredo taking by the hand the Knight of the teares, went to meete him, whom (when they had done complementing) hee presented unto him, with saying, that he had substituted him to be his servant in his steed, whereunto the Prince answered, that he was sorry for his parting, but em­braced the favour of his substitute, not to expect any service from him, but to doe him the service he owed his substitutor.

Going afterwards to take his leave, hee had much adoe to finde justifi­cations against the courteous quarrels of the Princesse, to whom hee pre­sented (as unknowne) the Knight that shee well knew before; and then ha­ving courteously resign'd him his house and servants, he parted for Feacia, whence taking his journey towards the Westerne parts, he kindly tooke leave of the Count of Bona and Don Eleimos, who em­barked themselves together, turning their prow towards the Easterne territories.

Cavalier Gio. Francesco Biondi HIS DONZELLA DESTERRADA. THE SECOND BOOKE.

POlimero (after the Count's departure) remain'd in Athens, full litle satisfied with his content-thwarting fortune; Much was hee (good Prince) afflicted with the heart-stinging me­mory of the King his father-in-law's froward humours, diffi­cult to be purged by reason of his bloods being corrupted not by any cureable infirmity, but by that desperately incureable disease [oldage.] What to resolve of he knew not, his discontented minde be­come now both Sergeant and Gaoler to arest and imprison his ambigu­ous will, so as hee found himselfe (by being so deprived of his free-will) quite excluded from all choyse of running any course conformable to the noble inclination of his heroïke Genius.

True it is, that at his arrivall there, hee thought (by frequenting those famous Schooles) to ease the paine of his wounded minde, with the sove­raigne balme of Philosophy, which he heard to be there propagated with precepts directed to its use. But when hee came to experiment it by his owne occular observation, he found it farre short, if not quite different from his expectation, in that the lives and manners of the professors held no conformity with what they professed, the later requiring the solide truth, the former content with the superficiall truth-resembling, the one reality of matter, the other formality of words.

Strange seemed it to him, That the repeating by rote a thing read in a bare literall sense, without understanding its true meaning, was reputed knowledge. That a compendiary way might serve for a master-path of disciplines, whereas indeede science cannot be reduced to a compendious­nesse in respect of the infinitenesse of intelligible objects. And that meere discourse sufficed to teach one vertue, whilst vices were learnt in a measure so boundlesse, as there could never be found actions or meanes enough to put them in practice. All which are no lesse fond than false conceits, en­tertained and approved by common Custome, but not by a well-instructed Polimero; That Custome being a false, popular, and appealeable Iudge, for being oft the cause that the white of vertue is hit by so few; and that the greater number having no staidnesse nor assurance in their ayme, shot wide of all sides of the Butt.

[Page 84] Hee therefore resolved, after he had first given order whither any let­ters to him should be directed (leaving the rest of his attendants behinde him) to part thence, waited on by no other than Catasio. His first journey was for Egypt, which Countrey then (thankes to its good Kings) flouri­shed in the excellencie of all things. Psemitide at that time reigning, had extended his dominions along'st the sea-coasts, from the mouthes of Nile to the Westerne Promontory, having acquired of the Inland all from the Arabian Creeke to Mount Azaro, containing some thirteene degrees in longitude, without comprehending the eight of latitude thence to the Li­bian sea. Passing then Eastward of the Tropicks, his Soveraignty reached even to the Equinoctiall in Ethiopia, placed betweene the Arabian sea (as farre as the Troglodites) and that continued file of Mountaines which sever it from the Garamants. The scope of his intent was to come as farre as the springs of Nile in the Mountaines of Luna, and there to bound and terminate his dominions, but that the dangerous sands, the scortching heat of the Sunne, and (above all) the uncertainety of finding them out, made him alter his designed intention.

Return'd home, he would needs there also out-doe, and surpasse his pre­decessours in all things, for slighting the Piramides (as but Tombes of the dead) he with a till-then-unheard-of-wonder founded a Citie in the wa­ters in the midst of the Lake Meride, assembling there such as (for having beene by the sword expelled from else-where) were desirous to give this new miracle a beginning.

The Streets there were Channels, the Coaches stately Barges fortified at both ends with long necks of bright steele engrailed, & covered with such pompous statelinesse and stately commodiousnesse as stirr'd up envy in the starry ship of the firmament. The buildings (emulating the great-de­signes of Kings) were not private, but royall edifices, and from one part of the City to the other were (in various prospectives) reared up divine-seem­ing Temples, and sumptuous Pallaces, enriched with furniture worthy to entertaine Soveraigne Princes; for the rest, as the beauty of the women, the commerce of trade, the liberty and concourse of all sorts of people, 'tis a description not to be comprehended otherwise, than by the Organ of the eye guided by the ray of a perfect judgement: And withall, that this his Citie might not be any way defective, he made it a free State, sub­ject to nothing but lawes, and such lawes too as indeede raised it to a pitch of immortality, for being grounded on equity the onely law written in mens hearts by the hand of Nature.

Thither would Polimero's will have presently guided his longing eyes, but that it was retarded by the inviting commodity of his being so neere the Piramides, where Architecture bred in him no lesse admiration, than their excessive charge astonishment: Surveying them therefore with an observant eye, he chanced to espie in one of them a great deale of blood, and a litle further a young woman wounded, whose habit denoted her to be of eminent quality, her yeares seemed to be short of six and twenty, her countenance was pale and wan, yet not so altered as to hinder the conceit to discerne the perfections of an exquisite (though martirized) beauty.

Now Polimero had with him a guide and two men, who carried upon [Page 85] two camels his pavilion and victuals, having sent then Carasio to cause the former to be pitch'd, and to fetch thereout some unguents, he night see her a litle after come to her selfe; her tongue and voyce were deprived of the use of their organs, yet seemed shee by the expressive signes shee made with her eyes and hands, silently to pray him not to discover her.

Carasio being returned, found to be in her brest and lower downe in her flanke three deepe wounds: yet the probe managed by a gently-expert hand (long before to his Lords cost Master in that art) assured her of her life: Polimero being (in the meane time) busied in comforting her, and using courteous force in constraining her to endure the being dress'd, without being able to get one word out of her, till (a while after) when her paine was by the medicaments operation somewhat asswaged, she be­gan in the Greeke tongue, to aske where shee was? and being by Carasio answered, In mercifull hands, unlike to those that so hardly had used her, shee thank'd him; and then turning to Polimero-wards, and pittifully weeping.

Courteous Sir (said shee) I am in good hope you will not aband on mee wretched woman, but that (to oblige me the more to your goodnesse) you will cause me to be (by some meanes or other) brought to Memphi. Poli­mero (assuring her that he would rather abandon his owne life than leave her unaccompanied) perswaded her to take her repose; and sending the day following for some that (for the service of passengers) dwelt neere the piramides, he having caused them to contrive with many poles joyn'd to­gether a kinde of a litter, made them therein carry her to the next village, because it was impossible to bring her to Memphi in the dangerous plight shee then lay in, her weakenesse withall so increasing as they many times reputed her dead, many dayes expiring ere they could conceive any assu­red hope of her life.

Exceeding loath was Polimero to leave her, though hee yet had an ex­treame great desire to see those countries ere his returne to Greece; obser­ving therefore the criticall dayes, and forecasting with himselfe how that by the judgement which by them and by the wounds Carasio made, it would be long ere shee could be cured, he resolved to goe thence alone, and to leave Carasio with her, whereunto he would by no meanes assent, but become now (contrary to his accustomed carriage) disobedient, would in any case obstinately follow him, endeavouring by all meanes possible to perswade his Lord to the acceptance of his necessary atten­dance, by laying before him a thousand accidents that in such a journey might befall him. Till in the end his Lord was faine to command him ab­solutely to stay there behinde him.

Polimero then setting himselfe forwards on his way to Memphi, without knowing any foote thereof, lost the direct rode, so as his horse the third day of his journey carried him to some of those low grounds, which the Nile by its frequent inundations makes in many places to become fenny; where not knowing which way to get out, hee made towards a plat of ground bearing canes, whereunto the neerer that hee approached. the more distinctly might his attentive eare heare one while the loud shoutes of skreeching voyces, and another while the uncouth murmure of dying grones, which though they still more and more increased, yet depriv'd [Page 86] they him not of hearing also the sound of blowes as of men fighting; come thither on a speedy gallop, and discovering what (for the canes) he could not before discerne, he saw one Knight alone combated, beaten off his horse and wounded; the assaulters being above thirty, and all Arabians, the greater part whereof lay downe on the field either dead or wounded, (with such marveilous dexterity sway'd that one his sword) so as he being armed seemed to fight with them being unarm'd, as with beasts that had neither tooth nor tallent, yet had they for all that unhorst him with the rude blowes of poles and clubs, whereto hee was for feare of killing his horse constrained to cede.

But no sooner came Polimero, than they were forced to save them­selves by flight, for, he encountring him that had seised on the Courser, bare him to the ground with a thrust, and then taking the Steede gently by the reines, courteously presented him to the Knight, who lightly re­mounting him, slew of them as many as he could come at, assisted by the valour of his companion, who seeing them betaken to their flight (not daigning to pursue them) came to him and asked how he felt himselfe; he affectionately thanking him, answered, that he had no hurt at all, which indeed was true, though his wounded thigh by its free bleeding gave the spectators eye occasion to suspect the wound to be farre more dangerous than it was.

This Knight seemed not to be above eighteene yeares of age, which bred the greater wonder in Polimero, who taking from out his saddle-bow a box of oyntment (prepared for him by Carasio for such like occurrences) carefully drest him, understanding by him (in the meane while) that the fray sprung from no other occasion, than from the desire they had to rob him, the ordinary profession that these bloody villaines liv'd by.

Desirous therefore to know whitherward he went, (for that he was loath to leave him in those perilous places alone) he understood that his way tended towards the red Sea, to passe over thence into Arabia, where he had some small affaires of his owne to dispatch: and this exprest he in a strangely-intricate manner of speech, which being composed of sun­dry languages, would (for the well understanding of it) give a good lin­guist somewhat to doe. It seemed to Polimero, that he should know that accent whereof he grew soone afterwards to be more assured, when ob­serving the devise of his shield, he saw there a Swan, which comming out of the Sea, pitcht his foote upon an Iland, that (by the number of bones that there might be seene) seemed to be a Church-yard, environed with a motto in the Etrutrian character and tongue, which imported, No matter so I but sing. And being in that tongue praid to discover what that device intimated, he answered:

That fortune having now at length driven him a-shore on a most plea­sant Iland, he (having till then champed on the bit of a continued though undue affection towards his, to him unjust and ungratefull Countrey) had resolved to end there his dayes, yet in such a condition as he might not dye there obscurely. And that as the swan (if it be true that he dyes singing) publisheth his death with the melody of his song, even so desired he also to have his actions appeare to be such, as might leave a good name be­hinde him, so as death should gaine nothing by him save his bones onely.

[Page 87] Full well pleased was Polimero with so accomplisht a spirit, remem­bring that contemners of fame are commonly despisers of vertue; and though the desire of eternizing it be indeede in some respects a most vaine affect, yet is it nothing so in such as consider the branch whence bud forth those generous acts which make a man become beneficiall to the community of humane society.

Beholding him therefore more observantly, hee might see his upper garments and bases all over slasht and shagg'd, rather with swords than with any instrument of ingenious invention, so as in an habit of simple shew his quality promised very much, and that too very contrary to the present being he then appeared in; but in his face (being the paper where­in Heaven imprints the character of good and evill) might be read a con­stant noblenesse: There also might be discerned lampes of heroicall incli­nations, so as neither poverty nor destiny were able either to remove the one or obscure the other, wherewith Polimero was so taken, as he would (by all meanes) beare him company to some secure place, no more now for pitties sake, but to satisfie the ardent desire hee had to enjoy his com­pany.

Being both then come (with no meane toyle) to a Countrey-farme, and there informed, how they were (by then) come past Memphi to the seaward in the confines of Arabia, subject to the Egyptian; Polimero told him, that (for his part) his affaires made no distinction of Countries, seeing that Knight-errantry governing it selfe from one accident to ano­ther, was neither observer of dayes nor provident storer for after-times; and that therefore since he was come on so farre, he now intended to see whether the further Arabia enjoyed with just title the surname of Happy.

The young Knight (with his cogitations parted betweene perturbation and pleasure) stood pawsing a good while, without making him any an­swer; till after having by the examination of his judgement found him to be neither Araba nor Egyptian, but rather of those countries where himselfe was bred in, and by consequence not to be suspected, hee thus bespake him.

Noble Sir, if you had not already so much obliged me to your merits, you then had at this instant bound me to be eternally yours by this your resolution, which (but for doubt of arrogating too much to my selfe) I should conceive to bee done in favour of mee. But bee it as it bee will, it cannot but constraine me to kisse your hands for it, beseeching you to beleeve it employed on one that shall serve you whilst he breathes. Or if I be deceived in so flattering my selfe, and that you have a desire to survey those parts meerely for your pleasure and mindes sake: Behold me then most ready and willing to attend and serve you: If neither that nor this, but that this dayes example, or your pittying my youth and weakenesse, moves you to leave me not unaccompanied; be pleased then (worthy Sir) to give me leave to tell you, that the profession I am of, wills mee to be­seech you to spare your selfe that labour.

Polimero (having from the beginning of his suspension observed in him some concealed suspition, and in its progresse many reasons which deno­ted a kinde of a strange reservednesse in his demeanour, desirous to know what he was) fram'd him this reply.

[Page 88] I cannot (Sir Knight) deny my going for Arabia to be a new resolu­tion conceived in this very instant, though I shall entreate you to beleeve me, that to goe thither rather than else-where is to me a thing indifferent, my businesse consisting wholly on the passing away of two or three moneths time, nor will I tell you, that my desire to wend that way is sprung from the gust I conceive from your company (which I would not confesse unto you to be so, though it were, lest you (whom I see so repleat of courtesie) might pretend your selfe beholding to me for it) onely this much I affirme, that these countries make me hate solitarinesse; and since that fortune hath made me so happy as to light on your company, I would not willingly forgoe the benefit & content of enjoying it, but rather hear­tily offer (for the accomplishing or furthering of any affaire of yours) my person at your free dispose and service.

The excellent Polimero had in expressing himselfe a naturall efficacie, accompanied with a kinde of winning behaviour farre from any dissimu­lation, a quality as noble againe being discreetly employed, as prejudici­all being used indifferently to all men: this was it that perswaded the Knight, not onely to accept but desire his company.

That night they reposed themselves, riding the day following towards Arsinoe, during which time Polimero by taking a particular survey of all his actions, observed how in his discourse his minde would be often alie­rated from the subject treated of, and (then a litle after) recover it selfe a­gaine, which gave him occasion oft-times to tell him smiling, that surely love should be the occasioner of these abstractions, in which point the o­ther forbore a while to satisfie him, yet could not at length (after divers excuses and new demands) choose but returne him this answer.

Worthy Sir, I acknowledge and judge my selfe over-discourteous in concealing from you my being and affaires, yet feare my proving much more injurious in drawing on (perhaps) (by acquainting you with-them) your forward goodnesse to beare a share in my perils. I beseech you then to beleeve, that this was the sole cause of my being hitherto silent, and the obligation of obeying you the onely spurre that now pricks mee on to re­veale unto you the true and whole story of my life and beeing, albeit I yet know you for no other than for the most courteous Cavalier living. Heere Polimero suddenly interrupting him, answered.

Gentle Sir, your knowing me in so favourable a construction is too too courteous, wherein if you bee mistaken (which I would bee sorry you should) yet shall you not be deceived in knowing me for Polimero of Mau­ritania, Prince of Sardinia, who if before he were inquisitive of your be­ing, onely to be acquainted with you, desires now to know you, to the end hee may lend you his assistance in any thing he may steede you in; wherein I pray you spare mee not, for I assure you, that the greater the danger which you propose me shall be, the more shall I thinke my selfe favoured by you.

The young Knight exceeding glad of this offer, excused himselfe in the best termes he could imagine, for not having borne him the respects due to the eminencie of his quality, with promising, that he would yet make him amends (in part) for that defect, by acquainting his Highnesse with some newes which (hee was sure) would well please him; and therewith­all [Page 89] told him; How that his Father-in-law King Arato had (now some-while sithence) fully recovered his health and senses; whereof the first signe was, his sending to fetch (by the Count of Bona) Donzella Desterrada from Majorica, relating unto him the story of the pirates, and acquainting him with what teares of joy shee was welcomed home by her Grandfa­ther: The second was, the ardent desire he had to see him his son-in-law againe; for which end hee (not knowing how to accomplish it otherwise more speedily) had with the privity and counsell of the Princesse Eromena given order to the Count of Bona to goe fetch him home, who (at his par­ting thence) had not for ought hee could learne (as then) begun his voy­age, but could not (for all that) choose but bee by then at Athens, where he was to enquire whither to goe to finde him out.

Inestimable were the joyes that Polimero conceived at these good newes, for which hee (affectionately embracing the Knight) assured him, that hee was not able to expresse his thankfulnesse; But gathering by his discourse that hee came not thence, hee ask'd him, how hee came to know these passages: Sithence it is (answered him the other) your Highnesse pleasure to command me to lay open unto you my being and quality, you shall therefore by the story of my life understand where I might have heard them, assuring you in the meane time, that your Highnesse neede no whit to doubt of their certainty. Polimero (more curious now than before) praid him to doe him the favour of relating it. Whereupon the other (who was Coralbo sonne to the Queene, and heire of Arabia) succinctly recoun­ted to him his past fortunes; the beginning whereof is in the sixt Booke of Eromena, whose progresse he continued in these words.

Sotiro kept me in the Iland of Capraia till I came to be six yeares of age, mistrustfull of the very ayre, and observing with a jealous eye even the poore fisher-men that came thither, and many times suspecting their sim­plicity to be some counterfeit traine to steale me away; till upon discreetly considering, that superfluous and over-nice care in bringing up a childe, doth often deprive him of the meanes of well-receiving any good breeding: hee thought it needfull to hazard me somewhat more, by committing me (my yeares now requiring it) unto a civill society. Away then tooke he me from the Iland, and with me as much of the treasure as he thought necessary for my maintenance for many yeares, burying the residue under the rubbish and ruines of the Cottage, (having first burnt all its timber and thatch, lest the commodity of the materialls might invite any man to build it up a-new:) which done, hee placed me to the studie of Arts (I having be­fore hand during the time of our abode in the Iland learn'd of him my first rudiments of humanity;) But hee (good man) entertained of me too too elevated an opinion, in being perswaded, that Nature had bestowed on me a peculiar ingenuity of examining her wayes, seeing that in the investi­gation thereof, no meanes which I judged either insufficient or vaine could give me any kinde of satisfaction. Pedants and their wayes were unto me insupportable, I could not brooke the being necessitated to beleeve what they said, onely because they said so; as if the intellect could be satisfied with the bare authority of such kinde of people, when the true reasons (being by them either harshly or not at all explicated) are so farre distant from their purblinde sight, as is the South point from the inhabitants of the Artick Pole.

[Page 90] A glad man was Sotiro to see mee to his thinking so punctuall, hoping that the speculation of generall things would weare out of my memory the smarting thought of my owne particular crosses; and that by becom­ming stupified by continuall poring on bookes, I might happily shunne the eminent dangers which hung over my head, by occasion of the waking curiosity of knowing what I was. Yet I vow unto you by Mars, that, though no man gave me ever any such inkling, I yet never beleeved him to be my father (albeit he ever preach'd me such a doctrine) were it for the respect he bore me, or that some Genius so inspired mee. Suffice it, that a­mong my generall speculations, I never abandoned my private and parti­cular ones, to loose the knot of this my so important doubt, which I redu­ced at length to this certaine proposition, that (for certaine) hee was not my father.

Most true it is, that I called to minde my having seene the Princesse E­romilia, who with her husband the Prince of Mauritania (your renown'd brother) chanced to land in our Iland, when I was yet but foure yeares old; and that he having admitted them to our secret dwelling, had (without heeding mee) made them a punctuall relation of my fortunes, whereof there remain'd in me a certaine impression, which though then obscure and imperfect, became afterwards in time more cleere and perspicuous; so as I was no sooner growne up to be ten yeares old, than I began to raise my spirits to such a pitch, as to pretend to become from his sonne and pupill, to be his Master & Prince, which though I declared not openly in words, yet did my carriage & actions manifest as much; for (rejecting my bookes) I then tooke no pleasure in any thing I had formerly learnt, save onely Mu­sick, the exercise of Chivalry and Armes growne indeede to be now the chiefe Lords of my desires, which I dranke thirstily with my eyes, for not being yet able to practize them, because of the tendernesse of my yeares; and with the same facility wherewith I had learnt the Arts, conceived I also the precepts that I heard given in the exercise of Armes, intentively meditating on the tearmes and wayes of both warding and striking, and consideratly practising it alone by myselfe; strictly observing if one foot corresponded in due distance to the other, if my pace were constantly-va­rying, my point continually-moving, or rather giring about the center of a true guard, and my thrusts put on with a faire reach, seconded with a proportionate, firme, and nimble retire, or nod; handling otherwhiles (for loosening of my hand, and confirming of my nerves and pulse) some massie thing or other, with enduring and practising my selfe in advancing, retiring, and imitating whatsoever I had seene done by any judicious wea­pon-man.

These wayes of mine Sotiro noted with great disgust, sprung from the feare hee conceived, lest such a studie united to the nobility of my birth, might in time occasion my fatall overthrow; for which he (become now severe) did often jerke me; so as I being unable to endure him, determined with my selfe to runne away from him; which determination of mine grew soone afterwards to be confirm'd to a resolution, by my chancing to get into my hands a Booke of errant-chivalry, in so much as I perswaded myselfe to find (as soone as I were gotten out of the walls) an enchantresse to furnish mee with horse and Armes, and some unknowne Prince to dubbe [Page 91] mee a Knight. But meeting by chance with a pilgrime, and putting my selfe into his company; it was my fortune to be stopt for getting out by some of the watch that knew mee, whom a litle more had incited to stay for company my new Camerade, out of the suspicion they conceived of his having seduced me away.

Vpon this occasion Sotiro advertised my mother of my disobedience to him-wards, whereupon shee (good woman) egg'd on with a motherly af­fection tooke on her to goe to performe a vow shee had made to Iupiter Ammon, and so came in pilgrims weeds to see me; which journey of hers (though farre) was yet neither very toylesome nor over-difficult; for shee fraighting a-shippe in one of the mouthes of Nile, fared by sea as farre as the port of the Goddesse Venus, and thence without any great adoe came and found us out at Nepa, where we then sojourned. I know not whether was then greater, the wonder or discontent of Sotiro to see her, conceiting, that her comming tended to the destruction of the foundation of my edu­cation, laid by him rather with an intention to conserve me in safety from the knowledge of my cruell brother-in-law, than to restore me (with such eminent dangers) to the greatnesse of my birth; and thus much made he knowne unto her ere shee saw me. All which notwithstanding shee (were it for the greatnesse of her minde, or that shee were impatient to live long without me) having a purpose quite contrary to his, would needs make me know her for my mother, with intention to take me home with her; till he (discreetly reasoning with her of the imminent dangers that hung over my head, and letting her plainely see, how ruinous a foundation the relying on the wavering love of the people was) after shee had for two moneths space staid with us, perswaded her (with much adoe) to returne without me, having first straightly charged me to the obedience of Sotiro, as of the faithfullest and truest friend, shee had found and tried in the worst of her adverse fortunes.

The course they resolved on, was, to suit my education to my yeares, (wherein I went advancing) and in such a way as might enable me when I came to mature yeares to be mine owne counseller, as soone as I had at­tained to the strength of putting it in execution, and yeares not to be con­temned of such as yet conserved in the closet of a loyall brest, her and my fathers memory and affection.

My mother being then gone, I remain'd with a minde more prompt and heedfull to the instructions of Sotiro, being assured, I should one day take such a course of life as were most conformable to my owne Genius. Yet began I now to addict my selfe to the exercise of Armes and riding, retaining of my old studies, onely such things as bred in me the greater delight and liking; for being such as might really steede me in some of my important occasions, it being indeede a tenent undeniable, that disciplines illuminate the intellect, making it more apt for humane affaires, and that from them discourse receives ornament, and prudence an essentiall stay.

By now I was got free from under the subjection of Pedants, the onely insupportable weight that over-loaded me; the observant Sotiro was well pleased to see me (without abandoning suddenly my first education) apply my minde of my owne accord) to the Mathematicks, with an intention to steede me there with in the Art Millitary: But the habit which I had got­ten [Page 92] in speculation, was the cause that not contenting my selfe with that part which that studie required, I would needs assay the other which pre­tends to measure the heavens, calculate the course of the Planets and stars, and to know their nature, influence and inclinations. From which sprung the curiosity of knowing also what they promised me, excepting alwayes the divine providence, against which neither influence, science, art, nor artist can in the least measure prevaile. I comprehended that all was but vanity, and found the wise-mans saying true, that who-so accumulates know­ledge, heapes up but trouble and vexation of spirit: For I found an unfortu­nate ascendent, a fall of parents, losse of goods, recovery thereof none or small, late, and subject to the will and power of others; the love of Prin­ces, but without effect, a good fame and repute, but a fortune bad, lame, and weake; so as I could have wished never to have knowne it; such adoe had I in striving not to beleeve it, though both divinity and reason disswaded me from giving any credit to it.

Thus spent I my time while Sotiro lived, which was till I came to bee thirteene yeares old; with being by him sometimes instructed for travel­ling State-pollicie and practices of Princes Courts, as farre as that age was capable of, not as yet of the fittest for such judgement-requiring dis­ciplines; yet (me thought) it did me good in razing from my intellect ob­livion, and in its steede bringing in the memory of such things as I possest when I was last in the world: If so be it be true, that when the Firmaments slow gire is ended, we either returne to live again with the same accidents, manners and qualities as before, or that we passe from one body into ano­ther.

After my mothers departure, wee continued there some two yeares without hearing any newes from her, or sending any body to her; for that we daily expected some messenger from her, till at length, seeing no body came, Sotiro (mistrusting that some disaster had befallen her) resolved to send to learne the truth thereof. Hee and I having spent sometime in sur­veying of forreine parts, were by this time returned from our travels to Etruria, and thence to Capraia, where we were to expect what answer the messenger would bring us, but there (to our griefe) we found the Caban leavelled with the ground, the dwelling under the soft stone broken open, and discovered, and all the treasure stollen away: The other losses, though no lesse than of kingdomes were all nothing in comparison of this, which made the good Sotiro (who examined its consequences more feelingly than I) to fall into a mellancholy so deepe and grievous, that for its being incureable by either Physitians skill, or vertue of medicines; hee (shortly after our returne to Nepa) tooke his last leave of both me and the world: which I, that (drawne on with childish affections) had till then wish'd him dead, tooke (now that I had obtained my desire) so to heart, as I won­der that I in some of my many extreame fits of griefe, died not after him. Then was it and not before, that I came to know his tender loving care, & my obligations to him for it his happinesse to be rid of worldly troubles, and my hard fortune to remaine over-loaden with them in a tender age, without parents, government, meanes, or counsell. Onely the Heavens (who caused mee to be borne for toyle and sorrow) had given me withall bodily force and courage, that I might live to endure their influences.

[Page 93] I had yet left me a small residue of that coyne which Sotiro tooke with him, when we first parted from the Iland (as I told you) wherewith I pur­posed to expect the answer of our messenger, and then to goe for Arabia. Till after seeing, that for the space of a yeare and more I had expected it in vaine, without hearing any newes of either our messenger or any other in his steede, I resolved by going my selfe to be both embassadour and em­bassie: For Nature having together with making me to be borne a Prince, endued me with a spirit conformable to that dignity, drew mee on to the impossibility of the journey, and yet seemed to delay it by violently hur­rying me on the wheeles of an over-free disposition to bounties dispropor­tionable to the state I was in; and this chiefly, because (poore as I was) the miseries of other men touch'd my compassion neerer the quick than any of mine owne. So is it (for the most part) wont to befall such, as are predestinated to perish; for, whom fortune cannot bring to ruine by meanes of open vices, those shee precipitates downe the precipice of mi­sery by the meanes of masked vertues, which lose their name, though not their lustre. Because impoverishing by malignity of destiny, engenders compassion, whereas such as hazard the falling into a greater poverty when fortune hath forewarned them of it, deserve to suffer for their folly: and liberality itselfe growne to be prodigality, and so become its owners foe, both drawes contempt on them, and shewes others the way of being ingratefull towards them. To be short, I staid so long till the wings of my liberality were so clipped, as I was faine to depart accompanied with no other than my old foster-father, even he that whilome had carried mee in his armes one of Cardamina.

Come neere that we were to Parthenope in the Sannits Countrey, wee lighted on a company of high-way theeves, from whom whilst I did my best to defend my selfe, the poore old man was slaine before my face; his death I to my utmost power endeavoured to revenge, till beaten off my horse, robb'd and stript, I lay on the ground halfe dead and senselesse all the night, scaping narrowly from being trodnn under foote, by a strong squadron of horse that came prancing that-a-way by the breake of the next day, if two of their Scouts had not (by good fortune) chanced to heare me groane; who making thereupon a stand, and espying the dead bodyes, and among them my unfortunate selfe, robb'd, stript, and woun­ded, they soone imagined what had beene done, which made them re­turne to give an account of what they had found and seene; On this, the rest spurring on in a faire troupe, with a Lady in the midst of them, came where I was: But shee, commiserating my youth and wofull plight, (see­ing my weakenesse disenabled me of satisfying any demand of hers) cau­sed my wounds to bee bound up; and then being by her commandement laid in a horse-litter that followed her, I began to come to my selfe, and to beseech them either to bury my foster-father, or to let me lye there and dye with him for company, with giving them speciall markes and counter-signes to know him from the rest; whereupon he was laid athwart one of their horses, and so carried to a Castle hard by and there buried; and thus the first act of my tragedy ended.

I remain'd a long time in cure, my wounds (which were all deepe and inward) being aggravated with many raving-feaverish fits, my body with­all [Page 94] become now so voyd of blood, as it was a wonder it remain'd not voyd of life.

The noble Lady, touch'd with a fellow-feeling pitty of my hurts, came often to visite me, the desire to see me cured daily increasing in her noble heart, so as at the recovery of my spirits, shee began to change her com­passion into a love-preceding pitty.

This Lady being the greatest Princesse of that Countrey was a widow fresh and faire, and a mother of two sonnes. Litle dream't I (God wot) of any affection of hers, nor had I (alas!) any reason to hope for any such matter, my weakned body being sore all over by reason of my wounds, my dejected minde afflicted for my irrecoverable losses, and my wretched selfe so bereft of my good hopes, as I knew not how to dispose of my selfe if I were recovered: And though hope-inspiring youth endeavoured the best it could to cut off the plummets thread wherewith the depth of mi­series were sounded, yet the extreamity of my over-hard fortune forcibly countermanding it, vanquished both youth and nature, and subjected their bold necks to the heart-mastering yoake of despaire-ushering mellancho­ly, in so much, as upon considerate examination of my deplorable condi­tion, I heartily wish'd rather my death than recovery; till after that the channels of my veynes began to be replenish'd with fresh springs of blood, I then grew to bee somewhat better consolated, though I yet knew not whether it then proceeded more from the sweete pitty or rare beauty of the Dutchesse Crisanta, for so was shee called. I had (I confesse) lightly assaid before some touches (if not slight wounds) of loves shafts that had already spurr'd on my desire to the knowledge of its sweetes, which was of me (being then but a raw youth) as easily undergone as forgotten. For I was a short time a novice at Cupid's Academy at Nepa, where though I was as yet but fifteene yeares old, yet had my standing there freed mee from the name of a fresh-man. Oftentimes would I contemplate the fairer parts of her sweetly-featured face, contending among themselves for gracefull comelinesle and comely gracefulnesse, from whose attracting presence (me thought) I breath'd so vitall an ayre, as my wounds were ra­ther cured by it, than by the vertue of the unguents. Full oft would my captiv'd heart pant and beate in hot desire, when shee feeling my pulse, (through inward alteration distempered) would with a kinde of fellow-feeling compassion bemoane it to the Physitians, who finding it by that time they touch't it to be otherwise, admired thereat, for not conceiving, that th'artire touch'd by the delicious hand of a beloved Mistresse beates differently from what it doth at the feeling of the cold hand of a Physitian.

Scarce was I freed from the perill of death, when I found my selfe so dead for love, as (having quite forgotten all my past disasters) I thought now no more of being Coralbo, of the losse of my estate, or my naked con­dition; but banishing all such like conceits, I suffered my selfe to be by my imagination transported to those gusts, which were (as I then thought) farre from any effect, which plunged me anew into the gulfe of so deepe a mellanc holy, that if timely remedy had not hapned, I am perswaded I had in few dayes remain'd irrecoverably dead.

The Dutchesse (on the other side enflamed with the ardencie of her af­fection) led (good Lady) a life subject to greater sufferings; because shee [Page 95] saw no meanes of ever accomplishing her desires, in that shee durst not discover them, fearefull was shee of imparting to me her affection, and mi­strustfull of my greene yeares, which shee conceived to bee either hazar­dous or unfit to bee trusted unto, for being as yet too young to discerne a reall fire from an imaginary sparkle; and againe to acquaint mee with her flames, as it stood not with her honour, so beleeved she that it might bring her into manifest danger.

All this while left I not my bed, but (simple as shee tooke me for) con­ceived (though) which way the winde blew, to my so excessive joy, that if I had beene to ballance it with all the pleasures of the world, I would have beene heartily content for the enjoying of it alone to rest deprived of all others: Then (and never till then) was it, that I first began to distin­guish betweene charity and love, betweene the effects of the one and af­fects of the other, the consolation whereof restored me to both flesh and colour: But now the more I amended, the more shee drooped; the more I fatned, the leaner grew shee; my recovery occasioning her sickning, for that shee feared that I would not (when I were fully recovered) make any long abode with her.

Her sonnes following the mothers example, came likewise often to vi­site me, who though they punctually examined not my qualities, yet did the neerenesse of our yeares and other proportions betweene us procure me (besides their friendship) their good opinion and affection, so as de­lighting in my conversation, they (out of the hope they had of enjoying it so much the longer) made wondrous much of me, not without expressing (withall) so much unto their mother, who therefore began now to hope shee would not loose mee so soone as shee-once feared shee should: No sooner was I fully recovered, than I began to manifest my selfe to be other than fortune shewed me to be; In publick exercises I appeared no more him that was the other day robb'd, stript, and wounded, now that it beho­ved me (being wounded with a fresh and more inward wound, and robb'd of my wonted liberty) to subject my selfe to the cruell hazard of a severe and despaire-threatning destiny.

There was then Lord of Canne one named Cripasso a wealthy and well­esteemed Cavalier, who (being some-while before enamoured of the Dut­chesse) had done what he could to gaine her liking, though for being com­posed of an indeede odious simmetry, he could never gaine as much as her least good liking, much lesse her affection. His age was conformable to hers, nor came he much short of her for nobility and riches, I would say for vertue and good parts too; but that the end of his actions and life toge­ther deprived him of the merit of so splendent attributes; he was indeede famed to be one of the most courteous and valiant spirits of all that coun­trey; but yet growne (to be for his person) much deformed through the dissolution of his youth consumed in disordinate lusts. For his forehead growne to be deepely dented and foulely scarified through the want of a bone (which for being rotted by the French malady was taken out of his skull) made him looke monstrous ugly; besides, the littlenesse of his face disproportioned to the rest of his body, and yet more disfigured, with his hollow-squint-fired-eyes; so as if the sweetnesse of his carriage, his libe­rality and such other like noble conditions of his, had not in some sort [Page 96] countervailed those his imperfections, hee would have beene notoriously noted for the monstrous deformity of that age.

Many yeares before was Crisanta (being left a widow in the flowre of her fairer yeares with two male babes) sought for and sued unto by him in the way of matrimony, though shee could not by any meanes bee drawne to hearken thereunto, his good parts and laudable conditions be­ing not onely obscured, but come to be of no value in comparison of the contrary, and therefore shifted she him modestly off with an excuse, that shee never meant to marry any man; the state of her sonnes, and good (as shee would alleadge) of her house requiring her being free from the sub­jection of husbands.

Hee not thinking himselfe (for all that) rejected, for being so excluded onely in generall termes, daily waited on her, and observantly served her, hoping in time to enjoy her as a Mistresse if not owne her as a Wife, wherein though the course of many yeares had shewed him his mistake, yet lay it not (for all that) within the power of his discretion to withdraw from her his affection; love being now growne a tytant over him, and his desires not onely linked-in him but in such sort enflamed, as meerely cere­moniall respects served him for touch-powder to fire it the more vehe­mently. And since it is a thing in us so ordinary and naturall to conceit well of our selves, it was no wonder, if that hee never once observed as much as one among so many disproportions of his, because his selfe-love flattering him hid in one and the same bundle among his good qualities his worser, which later because he saw not, he could not choose but be confi­dent of, and presume on those others which he saw, by which he thought he merited not onely the Dutchesse Crisanta, but even the worthiest, fai­rest, and greatest Lady of the Vniverse.

I know not how hee came by seeing mee to know himselfe somewhat better than he did before, not in regard there abounded in me any woman­delighting qualities, but because there superabounded in him conditions not onely ill-beseeming, but even odious in any man, and by consequence more eminent in a person of his quality. Mee then hee envied and beheld with a jealous eye before he knew of any of my doings, without concei­ting for all that) any thing the worse of himselfe, envy (or rather emula­tion in love) being numbred among the more generous defects. But under­standing how I was found on the high-way robb'd & stript-naked, he then imagined he had no cause to feare or doubt of mee; as if love and hatred had forsooth) their dependencies on the favours or defects of desert-sel­dome favouring fortune.

In the meane while Crisanta, in whom during the time of my sicknesse love had (as I told you) sowed its heart-enflaming seeds, felt them (now that I was recovered) sprowt up and grow to the prejudice and anguish of both her life and spirit. I know not if or no it were her modesty that re­strain'd her from having recourse to me for remedy; in that I beleeved, that true modesty neither proceedes from feares, nor hath other ends than it selfe; onely I must tell you, that her silence interpreted by my simplicity to be coldnesse of affection made me resolve not to lose my selfe in an ima­ginative sense, doubting or rather beleeving that all former demonstrati­ons which made mee thinke my selfe beloved of her, were but meerely [Page 97] sweete effects of a noble minde, which then gave mee occasion to learne to discerne the true difference betweene well-wishing and affection. For my owne part I hated the ordinary presumption of such young men as be­leeve that a woman cannot (as much as) glance on them a looke, with out intimating to her eyes object the homage of her liberty and person; well might I indeede perswade my selfe, that some internall gift might perhaps serve me for a ladder to climbe up to mens good opinions, but was never (for all that) so selfe-conceited, as to beleeve, that either my lookes, face, or person had the power to allure or gaine me the affection, liking or good opinion of any one sex or other: Then began I to make some signes of my departure not without an internall hearts-griefe occa­sioned by a truly-affectionate love: But scarce had I therein opened my mouth, when Crisanta reposing her hand on my arme as we walked alone in a large alley in the garden, spake thus unto mee.

Celio, (for so made I my selfe be called) I understand that this coun­trey likes you not (no more doth perhaps this house neither) and that you therefore intend to be gone; But I could wish you would prove so cour­teous, as to make first knowne unto me the reason why you doe so; for if it so be that you received any disgust here, take my word, I will endea­vour to see you righted; because indeede my intent and desire is, that of mine you be honoured, as of me you are beloved and held in as deere and respective an esteeme as are my owne sonnes. But if this be not it that ayles you, and that nought else save meere heate of youth spurres you onwards to such a resolution, I could then advise you to thinke better on it first, and to consider how you are (now that you have lost your old servant) left all alone; & although I would not be backwards in supplying you with what­soever you should want for your journey, yet should you (me thinkes) have already learnt to your cost, that simple provisions suffice not, being you may in your way light on not onely high-way theeves (as you did in my countrey) but a thousand other inimaginable misadventures: now then so you be pleased to oblige me so much as to let me but know who you are, and to make withall your businesse appeare to me, such as require your so sudden departure, I will then (on my word) take order that you be con­veyed by such a company, as shall secure you from all perils: But if the case with you stand quite otherwise, and that there be no such matter, I shall then lovingly entreate you, to suspend the deliberation thereof, at least so long, till I have time to resolve with my selfe, whether I can bee without you or no, whom I love (though you know it not) deerer than my owne life. These last words drew shee out of her mouth with a kinde of a pretty unwilling willingnesse, which so got out had drawne others after them, if bashfulnesse (having displayed its vermilion colours on her betea­red cheekes) had not staid her tongue with the modest curbe of the consi­deration of her sex.

At the sweete sound of these her sweeter words I altered my first deli­beration, more speedily than doth a dancer at the change of the musicks tone alter his manner of footing. Nor held I it my best course to tempt fortune, by doing the office of a woman in refusing, since shee had already done that of a man in proffering; for, having beene already sufficiently turred therein at the cost of others: That a woman (unlesse shee be impu­dently-bold) [Page 98] can hardly resolve with her selfe to aske a second time a blesh-procuring question. The consideration where of made mee returne her this answer.

This is (unparalled Madame) the onely Countrey where I have lighted on the best and worst of fortunes spite and favour, your Excellencie being the best of good, and the theeves that robb'd me the worst of ills. But now the evill (since past and gone) corrupts not the sweete rellish of the present good, which is the onely subject whereabout my thoughts are busied; and that the rather, because discontent hath no abiding place either under the heaven you breathe in, or in the spirits that receive from you their influ­ence: And for my owne part (Madame) I see my selfe both honoured be­yond my fortune and beloved beyond my merit, so as the resolution of my parting hence springs not from these grounds your goodnesse thought good to mention, nor yet from my (in that behalfe) innocent youth, but indeede from the consideration of my being a meere stranger, and from the doubt I conceived of abusing with a too too bold (if not odious) indis­cretion the noble courtesie of so long an entertainment; besides some pe­culiar affaires of mine owne requiring my crossing the sea, to see the state and being of my poore house and mother, though I know I cannot doe that neither without your courteous and obliging furtherance, which in its time I neither can nor will refuse to accept of. The losse which I sustai­ned in the death of my deerely-tendred servant was indeede exceeding great, but millions of degrees short, nay nothing in comparison of the ac­quisition of so high and noble a Mistresse. Heere stopping my speech with coloured cheekes and downe-cast eyes, I stood (some short while) mute, when shee taking mee by the hand and gently wringing it) thus bespake mee.

Hitherto (Colio) doe I hold my selfe satisfied, but what answer make you mee for the rest? What further answer can I make you Madame (said I) seeing that for as much as depends on mee I have already exprest my selfe; and then for that which depends on you, the answer thereof lyes in your owne brest: Depends it on mee (replied shee) to know either your being, since I am a meere stranger to it, or your stay here, since I cannot divine your thoughts? yea Madame (said I) very well both the one and the other, because my beeing depends wholly on you, nor can I in such a case either make my selfe better knowne unto you, or receive any altera­tion of being without you: But shee not yet fully conceiving me, I then with a bolder courage thus proceeded.

Noble Madame, of my native being I beseech you question mee no farther at this time, lest the story thereof seeme a fable unto you, all other beeing of mine is yours, and hath its whole dependance on you. By you and through your meanes I live to the world, for having beene (through your compassionate benignity) from being left for dead gathered up and cured: And by you also (thankes to your obliging love) I now live to my selfe, being cured of a wound which for not daring to manifest, I should (if I had parted hence) have carried along with me bleeding in my heart. No sooner heard shee this, than with a blithsome countenance, shee said unto mee.

My Celio, I know not whether I may confidently beleeve or no what [Page 99] you tell mee, I beseech you deceive me not, though I must confesse, that my douot of it springs but from the difficulty of beleeving what is ardent­ly desired. But if it so be indeede, that your words are true interpreters of your heart, resolve (I conjure you) then to stay here with me: for, the company of my sonnes and the excuse of expecting to heare some newes from your home will give a sufficient colour for the occasion of your a­bode here.

This advise of hers being by our mutuall consent growne to the ripe­nesse of a resolution, wee (after having first taken such order as was requi­site for the fruition of our loves) returned in gladsomely disposed, delay­ing no time of confirming our words with actions, to the so passing con­tent of both of us, as there was no degree (I am perswaded) of joy and de­light that could exceede that of our furtive conversation. The darkenesse with us was light, our sunne eyes, its beames amorous glances, our sincere affection the faire weather, heaven our bed, and its truer influences dalli­ance and kisses, so as the large scope of our imaginations could not com­prehend any felicity or condition more desireable than ours: And I, though of yeares but greene, burned yet in love so vehemently, that the more I enjoyed her, the more ardently found I my selfe enflamed; whereas shee being of fully ripened yeares, and therefore consequently capable of en­joying its pleasure at full, found her selfe so ravished with its delicious sweetes, as for not being able to endure the tedious longsomnesse of the day, which deprived her of them, shee would often come with divers ex­cuses to take mee away from her sonnes, for engrossing me to her selfe a­lone; so had her affection blinded her, as shee neglected or rather forgot both the dignity of her place and quality of her person.

But after that love had reduced us both to one onely heart, taking from us all other distinction, except (to make us the happier) that of our persons and sexes, it lay then no more in my power to conceale from her either Co­ralbo, or his birth or harsh fortunes, which wrought in her a confirmation if not augmentation of her affection. But tormented afterwards with the Idea of my States privation, reason perswading her, that the recovery thereof was necessary, shee would oft-times sigh to thinke of it, with pro­posing mee divers proffers for the accomplishing by other mens meanes, what none but my selfe could well effect; but comprehending every pro­position defective, as hatcht by the blindnesse of an extreame affection ra­ther than by any perfect rule of a prudent judgement, shee assented to the reasons that contradicted her, but dissented againe, when to put them in effect, the discording string of my departure was to betouched.

Her designe was to give me martiall forces under pretext of employing them in some secret enterprises; but the consideration of the way being for distance farre, and for passage difficult, and through the dominions of sundry Princes, stopt even in its very source the current of any such coun­sell. But admitting that both all those difficulties were removed, and all these wayes levelled; yet (alas!) what could they have done without me? she proffered me a great summe of money to leavy souldiers in those parts by my mother or some other, yet made not this neither for the pur­pose, as well because no man could put a hand to the enterprize without mee, as also for that the principall meanes for the recovery of a State con­sists [Page 100] not either in forreine forces or expence of treasure, but chiefly (if not wholly) in the love of the subjects, which onely being wanting, all other meanes would prove no leste vaine than superfluous.

In the meane time shee seeing me desirous to be knighted would by all meanes procure my content, the age of her sonnes become now capable of the like honour; therefore sent shee all of us to Parthenope to receive the Order of Knighthood, with the occasion of the marriage of the Prin­cesse Corianna the Kings onely daughter, which was then shortly to bee solemnized, accompanied with a traine of many noble Knights, & among them the Lord of Canne, who thought by this service to manifest the con­tinuance of his affection towards her, with the opinion of meriting it, or to shew the constancie of his affections to be such, as could not be blowne downe by any blast of small hope.

Arrived at Parthenope, wee were all three of us dubb'd Knights, the Court favouring us, though ill satisfied with the Dutchesse for not com­ming thither, shee being knowne to be the fairest Lady of the whole king­dome: But the reason indeede of her not comming, was an agreement be­tweene us, that I being to part away from my company under the colour of some secret enterprize, shee should take on her to be sick, that so shee might expect me at her house, whither I was privily to retire my selfe for the enjoying of each other free from the scanning of so many eyes, espe­cially of those of her sonnes, which troubled her more than the rest.

The Prince of Sicily was expected to come and espouse the Princesse, when one night shee fled out of a Castle that lyes on the Sea, whither (feigning her selfe sicke) shee was retired, and where were many found slaine, the Duke of Lucania & the Lord high Constable, two of the chiefe Peeres of the Realme, together with two servants of the later: The ori­ginall ground of which accident could not bee possibly learnt out. There was not a Knight that set not himselfe in the search of her, and among the rest the two brothers my companions, I taking for an excuse of not fol­lowing them a blow of a launce which the day before had both beaten off my helme, and bruised my head, which (me thought) hapned very fit for my purpose.

The Lord of Canne, who with rather enamoured than squint-eyes had noted something betweene me and Crisanta, seeing me now stay behinde, resolved to doe himselfe the like, and then watching the time of my par­ting, dogg'd me a-farre off, till upon his observing my way tend towards the Sannits, hee assaulted me unawares, with calling mee unworthy vil­laine and base traytor; I unused to be so stiled answered him with sword in hand: The fight lested a good while, both of us being armed, and each of us resolved to kill the other; of my death, his valour and my youth made him confident, till my agility depriv'd him of that hope; for being, because of the wearinesse of our horses driven to alight, I then so tired him, as he was glad to fall from pursuing me to defend himselfe.

The danger and earnestnesse of this our combate could not (for all that) withdraw my thoughts from musing what should be the occasion of this affront; seeing him therefore stand in neede of a breathing-time, I be­sought him to heare mee a word; whereunto when he condescended, I ask'd him why he had so assaulted me and called me traytor? he answe­red, [Page 101] Because I had violated the bonds of hospitality by enjoying a Prin­cesse whom I was not worthy as much as to name, whilest others farre worthier than my selfe were of her favours in the way of affection most injuriously excluded; At these words I was so exceedingly vext at the heart, as I cannot tell you which at that instant was greater my spite and rage, for having a rivall, or feare that my secrets were revealed: how­soever, I made no conscience to lye boldly, in telling him, that hee lyed most falsly, and to defend (by so belying him) the Dutchesse's honour and mine; howbeit my words were few, assured and confirmed rather by the sword than by a good conscience: But by this time, for being exposed to the open violence of the sunne, even halfe melted with heate, and growne fainty for wearinesse, thirst, and sweat, wee therefore agreed to disarme us, and so make a quick dispatch one way or other: In execution whereof, we hastily cut off each others armour-strops, throwing there withall away our shields together with our daggers, the usuall successors in that office.

Our faces so now uncovered, there provoked us on more eagerly, him my youth, and me his uglinesse, the disequality encouraging each of us to ridde himselfe of his enemy by no milder meanes than death, the one to free himselfe of a rivall which could not bee surely effected by other meanes than by killing him; the other to cure the wound given Crisanta's honour could not be salved otherwise than by his rivals death; scarce had wee force enough left us to weild our swords, being now growne so weary and faintish, as we could not lift them up to make use of our edges, whilst our eyes stood fixed or rather chained (as it were) to the enemies sword­hand, to gather thence the time, and so either to prevent or put him by:

By this time we were both of us slightly wounded, rather through the defects of our ill-closed hilts, than for any great oddes that either of us had of other in fencing, and by our swords-points slipping through the hilts into our hands and armes, though then in our heate we had no feeling of being so mangled.

For my owne part I perswade my selfe that I had sooner obtained the victory, if I had but made use of, and followed the advantages I saw; for, holding it (though I know not why) foule play, to both strike and thrust when the enemy made onely use of his point, I still followed on my play conformable to his, as if there had beene a law so to doe. But considering at length how this kinde of play did but dally out the time, and observing my advantage of having my pulses both firmer and lesse wearied than those of mine enemies, I began to alter my play, falling from thrusts to downe-right and back-blowes, and those laid I on too with all the force I had, so as the back of the contrary sword (sustained by a tired arme, and withall carried without the compasse of my offers and his true ward) fa­voured mee with the opportunity of striking him first in the face athwart the midst of his nose, and afterwards on the head; at which blow the sword dropt out of his hand to the ground, and close by it himselfe (to my thinking) dead; which so freed me of a rivall, and Crisanta of infamy.

But now the worst was, that I could not possibly re-arme my selfe, my armour-tyes being (as I told you) almost all of them cut off. And though my Genius seemed to prompt me to make Cripasso cock sure, with fresh and more certaine wounds, yet could I not finde in my heart to doe [Page 102] so, for that I deemed such a deede unworthy a Gentleman, yet parted I not presently (for all that) but staid to see whether he would revive or no; till the wound of his head (which was the dangerous one) occasioning a strange wrigling of his members with hanging out his tongue betweene his teeth, (he being at best but very ugly, and now in such a plight gastfull for being assail'd with terrible convulsions and shiverings) made me confident of his being dead; so as to ridde me off so hideous and horrible a specta­cle, I went my wayes without any longer stay, leaving him laid along in the field, and my Armes hard by him.

The Dutchesse (to expect me with more conveniencie in a place where I might bee received by night, without being incumbred with any watch) was retired to the Countrey, having at my parting from her given me the key of a Towre, that so I might steale in unto her unknowne to any body, and so indeede I came in thither unexpected, and found her a-bed broad waking, and entertained in discourse by the Gentlewoman that was our counsell-keeper, who lay on a pallet at her beds feete. The Lampe let her soone see who I was, yet were her (at first sight) excessive joyes mortifi­ed by seeing my right hand swadled up, and my arme hung in a scarfe at my neck, howsoeven shee imagined the disaster to be farre lesle than it was; for having found me herselfe once before in a farre worse taking, but ha­ving understood how the case stood, shee was like to sinke downe dead at the conceit of it, but for my assuring her that I had slaine him: the sense of this her griefe was aggravated by the accident of Corianna befallen in the selfe same time, but much more by the departure of her sonnes; so as our content remained corrupted by the mortifications that suspicions and feares wrought in her: Full often conceived shee (as indeede shee had good reason so to doe) that all slippes of women would be more rigorously examined for the Princesse's errours sake; so as shee could by no meanes be perswaded to desist from weeping and grieving; besides shee slept never a winke, which caused our before-amorous-watchings to be now changed into consultations, discourses, and presages of evill: But Nature requi­ring in me some repose, I was faine to sleepe (as I may say) waking, so ex­ceedingly was I troubled with the heart-rending tones of her lamentati­ons; till at length I (unable to endure them any longer) grew to be so per­plex'd thereat, that choosing rather to dye than to see her so languish, I thus bespake her.

Deere blisse of my joyes, I beseech you prevent not the uncertaine evill with a certaine, what cause (I pray you) of feare have you, now that Cri­passo is dead and gone? sithence wee may so behave ourselves as the very ayre cannot smell out our secrets; twas nothing (alas) but meere jealousie that made him beleeve the truth to be true, though (for all that) such as he could not possibly be ever an eye-witnesse unto, nor consequently as­sure himselfe thereof. For, otherwise he had never (I warrant you) this long have deferr'd its discovery. Here interrupting me, Ah! Coralbo (said shee) you are but young, you thinke that Cripasso is dead, but (the more woe is me) I feare me he yet lives, the accidents that you saw in him were (for what I gather by your describing them) no other than convulsions and violent stupifying fits. I cannot beleeve but hee is by this time come to himselfe againe, since hee hath not any wound, save that of his head that [Page 103] can prove mortall: you tell mee that hee sunke not downe presently, but fought a good while after, whence I gather, that it was a strangely­stupifying blow but not otherwise dangerous, which if it so prove to be, I am then a woman utterly undone. Besides, your reason of our not being otherwise discovered than by a bare imagination is not good, since meere imagination in this case is sufficient to make me lose both life and honour. Besides which, even Cripasso's behaviour towards mee speakes him to bee more discreete, than to discredit himselfe in blazoning to my infamy upon bare conjectures any miscarriage he certainely knew not in me, who ne­ver did him other injury than deny him my love, which nothing in him ob­liged me to grant him: But now that hee hath for the selfe same occasion beene so roughly handled by you, he will doubtlesse endeavour to be re­venged of us both at once.

The Dutchesse persisted constantly in these her opinions, from which I could not by any meanes divert her, especially because of their likeli­hood of being true, upon the divulging of newes, that Cripasso was found dangerously wounded, and that the Chirurgions had warranted his life; howbeit the wound on's face had so disfigured him, as he had not beene knowne but by his former and more ugly scarres; but how this had be­fallen him no man knew, because of his concealing of both its author and occasion.

On this, Crisanta began in her desperation to conceive some hopes of comfort, from the consideration of Cripasso's wonted modest demeanour, wherein his concealing the case seemed (to her thinking) to argue a perse­verance; but alas (good Lady) shee was therein exceedingly mistaken. For, his affection (being corrupted by the injury sustained, and extinguished with desire of revenge) egg'd on his cruelty to plot the mischiefe, which afterwards he put in execution against us.

Cured that I was of my wounds, we resolved upon my returne to Par­thenope, that I should goe finde out her sonnes, and on my going (as soone as I had reconducted them home) to goe looke to my owne affaires, with an intention to send her (when I had recovered my kingdome) Embassa­dors to espouse her for mee. Accordingly I went, and found the two brothers in Parthenope confused in minde for my being departed, Cripasso's lying wounded, the impossibility of finding out the Princesse, the extreame perplexity of the King, and both desolation and dissolution of the Court. Returne home they would not, but desired to goe travell as Knight-errant; I signified by letter so much unto the Dutchesse, who was well pleased therewithall, for being thereby freed of her minde-afflicting feare that in their way homewards they would call to see Cripasso, as they could (indeede) no lesse than doe, his house lying right on their rode, which was (I professe) a thing that I never dreamt of.

Some moneths spent we in this our journey, (wherein I was favoured with occasions of obliging them sundry times) and had continued it lon­ger, had not the Dutchesse (who now thought her selfe secure) sent for us home, where the affection betweene her and me (more ardent now than ever before) recalled us to our wonted pleasures, when Cripasso sent the brothers word to have a more chary respect to their honours, which for being so drily written, made them the more earnestly desirous to know the [Page 104] occasion thereof; but finding him unwilling either to come himselfe to them, or to suffer them to come to him, they appointed a place to meete and conferre together, where he telsthem.

That hee having long before taken notice of the note-worthy favours which the Dutchesse hourely shew'd me, and of her good liking to mee, construed them for no other than effects of noble courtesie; till such time as he comming one day to see her, found the doore of her back-chamber fast-locked, into which hee (because hee heard there within some gentle stirring) observantly peeping through the key-hole, might there see her and I, in close embraces together, whereof hee had no reason (though) to make any words of, the fact not concerning him otherwise than as a well­wisher to their house and honour: Besides, his being the more unwilling to discover it, as well because he thought it could not be remedied other­wise than by violence, as also for the hope he conceived that my depar­ture would bring that evill to an end. Till seeing how I had in Parthenope left them embarke themselves alone, of purpose to sneake homewards without them, he resolved to trace me, with an intention (in case I went that way) to prove a rubbe in my way: assuring himselfe, that if he did not so, the infamy (till then kept secret) would for want of circumspection in us be noted and made shortly knowne to all the world. But that fortune disfavouring him, he was by me shrewdly wounded and left for dead in the open field; with all which passages he thought fit to acquaint them, now that growne to mens estates, and honoured with the dignity of Knight­hood, they might have an eye to their owne honours, wishing them withall to provide for the executing of what was intended, since he could warrant them, they should without any great adoe catch (as they say) the hare in the parfley-bed.

The young Noble-men (prickt to the quicke with such unwelcome newes, and being besides of their owne nature prone enough to any cruell resolution, and yet more feelingly incensed by his egging them on) resol­ved to murther us both in the act; from which Cripasso disswaded them, by shewing, that it was fitte indeede that their designe should be effected, but yet not at one and the same time, since it was best, first to kill mee and the Gentle-woman mediatrix, under pretext of having found us twaine naught together, and so save their owne honours with that of their mo­thers; whom they might afterwards (without making any shew of suspe­cting her) strangle or make away by poyson or other meanes, as they saw occasion: Having thus concluded, they knew so well how to dissemble, that we (having by this time cleane forgot Cripasso's injury) were taken napping when we least thought of them.

It was past midnight when the Gentle-woman rush't in furiously to a­wake us, whereupon I (ghessing by the bouncing at the doore, what shee had to say, taking a farewell-kisse of the Dutchesse, and clothing my selfe as well as haste permitted me) tooke my weapons in hand: By when the doore (for not being opened from within when they knocked) was beaten downe from without, with no lesse force than fury. Whereupon the Dut­chesse (fearing lest her sonnes should come and finde me) besought mee to flye, which I would not, for not letting her be slaine unrevenged; till at length upon her assuring me, they would beare her respect, I gave way to [Page 105] her perswasions. My resolution of obeying her, and the bursting open of the doore hapned in the selfe same instant of time, so as they saw the first steps of my flight: Vpon this, leaving the rest, they hastily pursued me, though their being unacquainted with the roomes marr'd all their de­signe; for, they beleeved, that my comming in was through the ordinary doore, through which they had entred, which also made them misse of me many nights before, that they had spent in watching my comming; not without suspition that Cripasso, to revenge himselfe of me, had maliciously invented this slander; whereupon some dispute fell betweene them, till hee causing mee to be search'd for in my chamber, understood that I was gone thence, though he was yet confident, that I must needs have come in the right way through the lodgings, (which indeede I did never) so as he made full account to penne me in; since having (as he thought) but one way to enter, they had now left me none at all to goe out through.

The Dutchesse's withdrawing chamber butted on an arch, erected on a backalley through which no man passed; it had anciently served for a pas­sage to another house, which (till it happened to be burnt) was a member of the Pallace, the arch remaining ever sithence unusefull, and its doore shut, and so covered with the Arras-hangings, as there was none but her selfe and some of her ancientest servants that knew there was any such: On the out-side of this Arch stood an old ladder to get downe by, which wanted in some places one, and in other two rongues; the roome was ve­ry low, full of filth and rubbish, and o're-growne with brambles, weedes, and briars, having two other roomes adjoyning to it, the foremost where­of was assured with a good lock and key, through which I secretly came and return'd without any danger.

Those that pursued me were foure, Cripasso, the two brothers, and one servant; but the foremost of them was Cripasso, who came running after me with sword in hand; faine as live would I have turn'd to strike at him, but doubting to bee overtaken by the brothers (whom I had no will to injure) I went fairely onwards, fortune favouring mee beyond either my expectation or imagination; for being slowly pursued, because of their conceiting to penne me up in the farther chamber, where-hence they saw no way for me to get out; I had leisure to descend the ladder without any danger; for in drawing onely the Arch-doore together after me, I de­prived them of the time (although it were but shut with a latchet) of hin­dering my descent.

Cripasso marveiling to see me gotten so low downe, unacquainted with the place, but much more with the defects of the ladder, (the torch which the servant carried not sufficiently illuminating all those darkesome by-corners) and he withall seeing but very litle for being very weake-sighted, tumbled (for the extreame haste that he made to pursue mee) headlong downe from one end of the ladder to the other; whereat I resolved now neither to lose any time, nor to faile to kill him as I did the other time be­fore runne him (for making the surer worke of him) at two thrusts through the neck and brest; in the later whereof, I ranne my sword up to the hilts, conformable to my desire, whilest the rest of his company stood immove­able spectators from above for feare of the precipice: This done, I went my wayes, keying fast after me the doore that had the lock on it, to hinder [Page 106] them from pursuing me, and so hying me to the City walls, I got me out without any great adoe, and then (during all the rest of the night) travelled a-foote the speediest pace I could towards that part of the country where its territory was narrowest, for I thought my selfe safe enough in any other dominion.

Continuing this my journey, I chanced to meete (by good fortune) a Knight with whom I had beene acquainted at Parthenope, who by occasi­on of certaine lands was a great enemy to Cripasso; to this Knight enqui­ring the occasion that he saw me so a-foote, I unmasked the whole busi­nesse, save that in steede of the Dutchesse I made him beleeve, that I went to enjoy her woman, and was faine to save my selfe with Cripasso's death; Whereupon the Knight affectionately embracing mee, told me, hee was much bound to me, inviting me withall to his Castle, where he assured me, that I should not neede to feare or doubt of any thing; I thankfully accep­ted the invitation, but desired (for his safegard aswell as mine owne) to abide there undiscovered, whilest he suddenly dispatch'd away a discreete Gentleman, to goe learne if Cripasso were dead indeede, and how slaine.

The Gentleman after a few dayes return'd and told him, That fortuning to bee entertained and lodged by a Knight who was an intimate friend of his, and a bosome one of the brethren, he had not onely beene informed, but was also by him favoured to see under the seale of secrecie the whole truth of the fact; which was, That Cripasso was dead for certaine; That the brothers having dragg'd the Dutchesse's Gentlewoman to the top of the ladder, had tumbled her downe headlong over it, and then slaine her upon Cripasso's corps, martyrizing her with so many wounds, that her bo­dy was seene all over pierced through with stabbes: That the Dutchesse could neither with authority nor entreaty obtaine life for her, but was (oh unnaturall cruelty!) her selfe the day following by them-themselves cru­elly strangled; and the Coffin happening to be too short for her, one of them stept up on her legges that reached out of the Coffin, and with his feete crush'd them to pieces, that the Chest might containe them; and all because shee was taken with me, they having beene before advertized by Cripasso of all the particulars by me related.

Now though they had not published the case to bee as it was indeede (they giving out, they had surprized me with the Gentlewoman, and that the Dutchesse extreamely affrighted to see her slaine before her face, died in the place for meere feare) yet had they (for all that) imprudently com­municated the truth to most of their friends, so as the people came to know it by having their conjecture in that behalfe confirmed by the cof­fin's being nail'd up and pitched, ere any body was suffered to see it; That Cripasso's corps were embalmed up, and solemnly sent to his owne barony, (upon a chariot of black velvet, drawne by eight horses covered and trapp'd with the same downe to the ground) accompanied with two hun­dred Gentlemen, clad they them selves and their Coursers with their head­stalls plumes and trappings all in black, with unbraced drummes, sordine trumpets, trailed standards and mournefull musick.

On would Coralbo have proceeded in his story, but here interrupted with sudden sobbings he was forced to reiterate by the dropping of a few great pearle-like teares his (in this manner many times re-solemnized) fu­neralls [Page 107] of his beloved Crisanta; Polimero therefrom not diverting him, for his conceiving the not giving way to just griefes to be a thing too farre di­stant from humane putty: but soone after the water being soaked away with the drought of reason, stopp'd of it selfe; and then hee blushing to see himselfe (according to the opinion of some) contrary to a manly spirit o're-mastered by his affections, after a short pause thus spake on.

Of the two hundred Gentlemen which accompanied (as I told you) Cripasso's corps, fifty solemnly vowed, to spend one yeares time in the search of me, and in case they found me out, to bring and sacrifice mee on the slaine Cripass's tombe; And missing to light on mee in that yeares space, though they were thence forwards freed from further seeking after me, yet remain'd they (in case they ever fortuned to meete me) still tied to the same obligation. Vnderstood that I had these unhappy newes, I would needes part suddenly, all perswasions of retaining me any longer proving dissoluble and to no purpose. Having then procured (of the Knight my hoast and friend) the favour of furnishing me with compleate Armes, and refused those he would have had me take for being too superfluous, conten­ting me with those I now weare, I caused to be pourtrayted on my shield the Impresa of the swan, stampt in the internall part of my imagination ever since I was a childe, upon the occasion of the old disasters of my poore home, whereunto this new one in my conceit came neere enough.

It was my luck to meete ere I embarked my selfe, with eight of the fifty Gentlemen, of whom understanding the oath they had taken, I had the fortune to absolve them of it, by from some taking and to others giving their lives. Come to Taranto I met with the ninth, without either know­ing him or he me; Wee embarked both of us in the same shippe, where, upon his telling me whom he sought after, I could have found in my heart to have fought with him then instantly; but (considering the ships being full of passengers) I forbare till we arrived in Feacia, and then made my selfe knowne unto him, where gone a-shore, Mars favoured my cause with the death of the pursuer. And then passing over into Creete, I came thence to Egypt where you found me, and by your valour saved me from my second murtherers. My intent now is, to crosse over hence to Ara­bia, there either to recover my kingdome or lose my life; or if neither this nor that, yet shall I (at least) see with my owne eyes the reasons that exclude me from all further hopes thereof, that I may then returne me thence to the Iland my nurse, and there spend and end the residue of my dayes.

The noble Polimero was so taken both with the relation of these passa­ges and with the person that related them, that (embracing him with an affectionate respect) hee thus bespake him. Prince Coralbo, I crave you humble pardon if in any thing I have failed to tender you the honour due to your quality, whereinalthough my not knowing you might (in some regard) serve me for an excuse, yet meane I not to steede mee therewith, because my not discovering in you those indelible markes of a Prince stamptin you by nature, merits just accusation. But sithence it cannot now be otherwise remedied, I shall endeavour to make my future service be­come in part an amends for my past miscarriages, and will besides (so you but favour me with your courteous leave) be a fellow-sharer in your ad­ventures; [Page 108] for the being of both of us strangers in Armes and language will secure us from all dangers, so that you shall not need to make your selfe knowne to any other than such, whom (for your affaires sake) you shall reveale your selfe unto.

This courteous proffer Coralbo could not but accept of, acknowledging him no small obligation for this his so highly-engaging favour. So travel­ling toward Arsinoe, it grew to be twilight ere they were aware that they had straid out of their way, yet even then and later too the clime of Egypt is canoped with so bright a skie, that there the night (though deprived of its greater light) is yet very brightsome and cleare, the golden splendor of the starres being of themselves (for not being clouded with any foggie va­pours arising from below) sufficiently lightsome to illuminate that portion of the earth: the ayre also enjoying there a faire open horison (for not be­ing damm'd in by any neere bordering mountaines) glories in having no other shade save onely such as are meerely accidentall.

Thus in darkened light or lighting darkenesse continued these Princes on their intended journey till almost midnight, without meeting with any one, of whom they could enquire the way, so as now imagining they had lost it (as indeed they had) they were much perplext in minde, their Steeds being well nigh quite tired and fainty with extreame thirst, when of one side of them they might descrie glimmering a litle light; yet not certaine of its being really such (the interposing trees not suffering them to judge whether it were indeede such or no) Coralbo desirous to be cleered of his doubt, and at length through his accurate observing infallibly assured it was no starre, told Polimero, that for certaine there were houses neere at hand; riding then towards the light, they saw it vanish them in an instant, yet holding on their way directly thitherward, they were soone gotten into a faire large greene, encircled with a pleasing row of palme-trees or­derly planted; about the which in an artificiall channell rowled over a bed of snow-white pible, a litle christall brooke most pleasantly murmu­ring; from thence they discerned (fast by them) a house with lights in ma­ny of its roomes; whereat they no sooner knocked than they were cour­teously spoken unto; but yet the porter would (ere hee would open the doore) needs first goe know his Ladies pleasure, which was not needfull;) for shee appearing her selfe presently at a window, courteously asked them who they were? Two stranger-knights of a remote Countrey (answered her Polimero) who being out of their way, pray to be either favoured with a nights lodging, or directed where they may get one; which hee (endeavouring to expresse in that countrey language) uttered with such difficulty, that seeing the Lady returne him no answer, he perswaded him­selfe that shee understood him not; till upon his returning to repeate his former speech, shee told him, that shee had already understood him, how­beit shee praid him to tell her what countrey-men they were? Wee are (said Polimero) Ausonians; how Ausonians (replied the Lady) your pronunciation (me thinkes) and accent hath but small affinity with those of that Nation? Yea Madame (answered her then Coralbo in the pure E­trurian tongue) we are indeede of Ausonia, and now goe travelling abroad through the world, to finde out warres and adventures.

The Lady now bethinking with her selfe, that shee should know that [Page 109] voyce and accent, commanded the gates to be presently opened; so then the Knights (demounting off their Steedes in a faire courtelage) were with a paire of torches lighted into the hall, where they were courteously received by the Lady, accompanied with a most beautifull damosell her daughter, the neere resemblance shee had with her confirming her to bee such, both of them as well in gesture as countenance discovering an incom­parable majesty: They entertain'd these two Knights not after the man­ner of countrey gentry, but with a stately grave deportment as the most accomplisht Ladies of the Court, presenting them (in expression of their welcome) with a glasse of faire fountaine water deliciously tempered with Sugar and the juyce of Lemmons, to qualifie their internally distempe­ring heate, and then commanded supper to be speedily made ready: But the Knights already infinitely satisfied both in the way of welcome and sweetely-grave aspect of the noble Lady, besought her to forbeare the incommodating her family for them, it being so late as they wondred they found them not all a-sleepe, telling her, that a dry crust with a litle fruite, and that most delicate water should suffice them to their exceeding con­tent.

To this the Lady smilingly replied, that shee had not as yet supp'd herselfe, but seeing them admire thereat; 'Tis my custome (said shee) to satis­fie my hunger at the summons not of the clock but of my stomack, and therefore I now meane to suppe, for I onely eate when my appetite invites mee, a custome that I have ever observed, and ever found my selfe the healthier for it; This the Knights did well approve of, instancing the like in a Queene and a great Prince of their countrey. But the Lady desirous to be enformed of their occasions, with a gravely-limited boldnesse asked them; Whitherward could any affaire of theirs leade them that way, see­ing they could not travell on any farther, without first crossing the seas, whereunto Polimero endeavouring to make answer, but expressing it with much difficulty. Sir, said the Lady (in a most sweetly-respective manner interrupting him) I am loath to prove so unmannerly troublesome unto you, as to put you to speake a language you cannot readily expresse. Bee therefore pleased (I beseech you) that this other Knight your companion ease you of that trouble, by speaking in his owne native tongue, wherein I having got a little knowledge (out of the curiosity I formerly had in be­stowing sometime in the reading of it) shall understand him very well, and his accent too farre better than I can yours; which shee said, because be­ginning now to grow yet more suspicious that he was Coralbo, she was de­sirous to be cleared of that doubt. Polimero glad to be easied of that bur­then, with willingly obeying her, assured her, that his companion was ex­cellent in that tongue.

Coralbo thank'd him for his good opinion of his language, and then sub­missively inclining to the Lady, told her, that he received her commands as especiall favours; and that touching their journey, they intended to crosse the seas, to see the Kingdome and Court of Arabia Foelix, which in the last deceased Kings time was famed to be very great.

The Lady greedily peering him in the face, and then suddenly glauncing her eyes on her daughter, made no answer at all: In this often transloca­tion of her lookes shee so long persisted, that shee gave Polimero occasion [Page 110] to take notice thereof, who doing by her example the like, perceived shee did it not without very good reason, considering the affinity of favour shee might observe betweene the Knight and the damosell; which later when he had well observed together with Coralbo, favoured both of them very much the Lady her Mother; who (with that) espying his left arme hung in a skarfe, ask'd him, what hurt he had there; hee (not as yet cured of the wounds lately received of the Arabians) answered, It was nothing but a slight scratch; whereat shee seeming to bee sorry, told him, shee would then presently cure him her self, being provided of the best wound-balme that ever Arabia distilled; But he replied, that he durst not so farre pre­sume to trespasse on her goodnesse, as to repute himselfe worthy of so great a favour, and that shee needed not trouble her selfe about it, since he could very well make a shift to dresse it himselfe as hee went to bed: To that shee agreed not, but taking in her hand a golden viall (that her daugh­ter had by now brought her) shee dropt thereout two or three graines weight, which yeelded so pleasing an odour, that all the senses and spirits were thereby exceedingly comforted and recreated. And then it behoved Coralbo to suffer himselfe to be drest, the Lady casting (the meane while) her eye on that hand, to see if he had there a litle halfe moone-resembling scarre, that hee had once cut with a knife neere the roote of his thumbe, which shee espying, remained (though shee made no shew thereof) the joyfullest woman breathing.

Supper being by this time laid on the table neatly furnished, with napery and service surpassing the quality of a private Lady, they sate downe to meate, shee (all supper-while) ever-enquiring something of Ausonia & Etruria; But when shee named Nepa and the Iland of Capraia, Coralbo could have bitten his fingers for meere madnesse thereat; which observantly perceived by her gave a supplement to her content. As soone therefore as the cloth was taken away and the seruants departed the roome, shee thus bespake them.

Gentlemen, yee are much bound to fortune for being so favourable to you, as to conduct you hither, ere your passing over into Arabia, sithence when you had beene there knowne to be of that countrey whence you are come, you would have incurr'd the danger of being unrecoverably un­done, especially you (Sir Knight) being Coralbo, or another in his shape in­distinguishable; whom if you be, as I am well assured you are, let mee then tell you, that you cannot repose trust in any, that either more deerely loves him, or can perhaps in some respects better advise him in the mana­ging of his affaires than my selfe; feare not therefore to discover your selfe to me, for (howsoever) I certainely know you to bethe very same.

Here seeing them gaze with admiration one upon the other (as though they summoned all their wits to counsell how they should best devise an answer for her) she proceeded: You neede not stand gazing so strangely each on other, nor yet feare or any thing doubt of the presence of this my daughter; for shee desires more to see in happy state Coralbo, than doth any other wight living: At which words the damosell wept, the Mother after a long restraint accompanying her with her teares.

By this time Coralbo was so distracted in minde as he knew not what ei­ther to say or thinke, imagining, that being so soone knowne by a woman, [Page 111] he must necessarily be sooner sitted out and sounded by any man that he should happen to converse withall; and that it could not otherwise be, but that some private marke of his was made manifest by some secret spies. Considering therefore with himselfe, that his intended journey could not but prove dangerous unto him, he thought it his safest course to com­mit the discovery of his person and being to the trust of that noble Lady, who by her words and teares could not choose but love him, and be of the Queene his mothers faction; yet amidd'st all his feares and doubts he had (though the worst that betide might, betided him) this one comfort to en­courage him, that he was as yet in a countrey free from all dangers, and remote enough from any power of his enemy: Polimero likewise grew to be thereat exceedingly confused in minde, till lighting on the selfe same reasons, he beckened unto the other to discover himselfe.

The Lady having (the meane while) dried her beteared eyes, boldly tooke him by the left hand, and smilingly observing it, For certaine (said shee) you are undoubtedly Coralbo; To this he now o're-come with the confidencie of her affirmation, answered: I cannot imagine (noble Lady) what should move you to say I am hee, what markes (I beseech you) de­scrie you in me that denote me to be such? What markes (said shee) mary the age of seventeene yeares as hath Coralbo, a face shaped and favoured like his, when he was as yet but ten yeares old, and this scarre that Coralbo cut in his hand at table, his mother being present, when shee came seven yeares sithence to visit him at Nepa; other markes too I yet know besides, but will not tell them you, unlesse you confesse that you are he: Coralbo now looking on his hand, and therewithall calling to minde that cut, and how his owne mother had drest it and bound it up, remained more astonished than ever, so as he now could hold no longer from saying:

Much honoured Lady; the markes and description which your good­nesse and noble courtesie have vouchsafed to impart and particularize to me, are so punctuall and unrefuteable, that I cannot deny me to be Coralbo; whom if I were not, I would yet heartily wish to be, were it but to serve you: At these words shee rising off the table with her daughter, and em­bracing him about the neck; Since you then (said shee) are my sonne Co­ralbo, behold here your disinherited mother and sister, not altogether un­happy, since their eyes are once more blest with the now heart-extasing sight of you: Coralbo who at their first motion of rising up, was risen with them, at the instant of his hearing these words prostrates himselfe on his knees to her, whence shee raising him up, stood some while embracing him with a motherly tendernesse; Nor had shee so soone freed him from out the weake prison of her armes, but that reason commanded her to communicate him to her daughter his sister, the affects thereon ensuing proving such as even Polimero himselfe was so o're-mastered with an ex­treame tendernesse of a fellow-feeling compassion, as he could not refraine from bearing a part in their weeping consort. The Mother afterwards un­derstanding who he was, and wherefore come thither, could never be sa­tisfied in manifesting by most lively affects the gratefulnesse of a royall minde obliged. But seeing that the night was (by this time) farre spent.

Right noble Prince (said shee) it is not convenient that my joyes be­come discommodious to you; the present reason requires repose, and [Page 112] Coralbo's wounds ease and rest; To morrow is a new day, and then wee will conferre together at better leisure: With that, shee leading him on to a withdrawing chamber there hard by, consigned him to the care of cer­taine Gentlemen to helpe him to bed. Whilest Coralbo, not having the power to part from her, would needs know of her the manner and occa­sion of her comming to reside in that place. But shee differring it till the ensuing day, got him at length (with much adoe) to goe to bed; where sleeping litle or nothing, by reason of such alterations of affections, he got up earlier than his passed toyle would have another time permitted him.

The day being come, there needed no consort of Musick to summon them to come together, their severall desires being sufficiently powerfull to effect that office. The Queene finding Polimero just as he had made an end of cloathing himselfe, entertained by Coralbo who was already drest, leades him into the garden, to take the benefit of the fresh ayre; when sea­ting her selfe betweene them both under an arbour of Gelsomine, and her daughter close by her brothers side, she thus framed her speech.

I know that I cannot well deferre the relation of your affaires (Coralbo) though I would gladly doe it, since they cannot but prove unpleasing unto you; yet since it pleaseth the heavens they should so be, we must not re­pine at their unresistable predestination. I perswade my selfe that you came hither in hope to make triall of your valour: But (alas!) such a tri­all should be of the fortitude of the minde, and of other vertues thereto correspondding; the strength and valour of the body comming now too late any way to steede you. This much I thought good to acquaint you first withall, for preventing of those passions which Nature & Reason might administer you: And now to goe on with your story.

At my comming to Nepa, I left in Cardamina (the onely residing-place I had then left me) Dariacan a servant once deare to your Father, who ha­ving sent secret intelligence of my departure to King Bramac my sonne­in-law, capituled to yeeld him up that Hould, on condition that all the trea­sure there found should be his, Bramac made a shew of being well con­tented for the treasure, but not for the rest, pretending to have delivered up into his hands together with Cardamina your person, imagining (it should seeme) that I would at my returne bring you back along with me, which induced him to deferre the effecting as then of his first complotted treachery, for the assurance that he had of putting in execution at the selfe same time both the one and the other.

Faining then to have beleeved that I was gone to the Oracle, he com­manded the bordering Governours to have a care of my estate, that it were not incroach'd on, nor prejudiced by any whatsoever; making by this seeming-good office a shew of being not only alienated from any evill in­tention, but also tenderly carefull that no other should offer me any injury. So that at my returne I had cause to give him tharkes for it, hee then also making a shew of honouring me, by sending me Embassadours, who un­der pretext of congratulating my returne, came to espie whether you were come with me or no: But getting afterwards out of- Dariacan all my secrets, he bade him counsell and perswade me your returne, as being the request of the greater part of the Barons ill satisfied with the present go­vernment; I simple woman, beleeving him, taking his having conserved [Page 113] me Cardamina (whereof I ever doubted) for an assured testimony of his in­violable fidelity, resolved to send you Cogamar the brother of Stelinete your Squire, him whom (from among a number of others) Sotiro had cho­sen for your service: which happened the selfe same time that Sotiro (for not having heard any newes from me since my parting from Etrunia) had sent to mee Stelinete: And as fortune would have it, the brothers met by the way, and reciprocally trusted each other with the summe and pri­vity of their severall commissions: There Cogamar (through the intelli­gence he held with Dariacan) being acquainted with the Kings designes, and consequently corrupted, imparts it to the other, not to make him the instrument of remedying or preventing it, but rather a meanes to content the Tyrant, by effecting his desire; shewing him, how all our hopes were quite extinct, Bramac possessed of all, and they in the way of being (for such a master-piece of service) advanced to great honours and speciall favour; objecting unto him on the other side, the poverty and miseries of so long an exile, the irkesome tediousnesse of a solitary life in an Iland, (especially in a Countrey so remote from their native clime) without any likelihood of ever expecting (after all these sufferings) from our exclusion and poore condition, other than poverty, exclusion, dangers, and a mise­rable and unhappy end.

The wicked Stelinete who till then had continued honest, meerely for the hope he had, that you (restored to your royall state) would richly re­ward him; seeing now the effect (to his thinking) impossible, presently turned coate, and that (as you shall heare) a most villanous way too; for reasoning with himselfe upon other mens infidelity by the argument of his owne, hee concluded it a point of wisedome to prevent the uncertaine re­wards of Princes, but more particularly of Bramac, knowing there was no reciprocall relation of any vertue (especially of that of gratitude be­tweene the Tyrant & the Traytor) with a certaine one, whereof he might besides'be himselfe his owne carver; So being first perswaded by his brother to one arch-plot of wickednesse, he now perswades him to ano­ther more base, if not more wicked.

For hee tels him of the treasure reserved and trusted to the guard of stones in the Iland of Capraia, and buried under the fained ruines of a slen­der cottage, with letting him see, how the taking it away would prove a service very steedable to Bramac, for thereby depriving you of the princi­pall meanes of recovering your kingdome; especially now that I (for be­ing deprived of the treasure I had in Cardamina) had not wherewithall to maintaine my selfe, much lesse such an Army as were requisite for so long and expensive an enterprise as this of ours was like to prove.

This designe of Stelinete was partly conformable to Cogamar's avarice, though he could not suddenly approve of it, bethinking with himselfe, that being sent to put one plot in effect, it lay not within the reach of his braine­piece to forme thereof a second. But at length the eye of his judgement becomming dazled with the certainety of lucre, made him blinde to more wholsome considerations, so as dispencing with the expresse commission first given him, he resolved to follow Stelinete's counsell, who fraighting a ship of purpose, steered from Paphos (where they had met) by Creete, Feacia, and Parthenope to the Elbe, and thence in a good fishing-boate to [Page 114] Capraia, where they alone (having first easily removed the rubbish that stopp'd up the passage to it) tooke thence away the treasure, packing up such things as they had pick'd out for Bramac in the same manner that they were brought thither, a trade that Stelinete was well versed in, this not being the first time he had done it.

They had once determined before their going to Capraia, that Cogamar should passe over to Nepa, & having there executed his commission should then returne to Stelinete who was to expect him: But the difficulties that opposed that proposition were many, and among the rest one, that he could not so part thence without ministring subject of jealousie to Sotiro, who in case he beleeved him, would (as was presumed) have come along himselfe to conduct you, which he could not have done, neither, ere hee had first gone to Capraia; where, upon missing the treasure he would have smell'd out the treachery: On this confideration, then they concluded, that the one could not be handsomely effected, without leaving the other altoge­ther unattempted.

Being come to Zambra, they there found the King, where Cogamar knowne by some (who were altogether ignorant of the Kings stratagems) was laid hold on, upon suspition of being sent by me as a spie to the Court, and upon this conjecture laying a thousand criminall matters to his charge. Bramac commanded him to be brought before him, as though he would have examined him himselfe; but finding his command unexecuted, hee caused both him and his brother to be first gagg'd, and then cruelly tor­mented to death, giving out, that they were sent thither by Sotiro to cor­rupt with the treasure of the Crowne the Subjects loyalty and States qui­etnesse. At the selfe same time he commanded Dariacan to lay hands on me too; but I (being by some of my more trusty friends advertised thereof) saved my selfe by flight, taking on me to goe to Are a neighbouring Iland, to take the ayre, carrying along with me a small part of the gold, but well nigh all my Iewels.

Dartacan having presently after my departure received order to arrest me, caused me to be pursued in vaine, I being (by that time they had traced me to the kingdomes limits) got (out of all danger) over hitherward on the shore and territory of Egypt.

Bramac hearing the newes of my escape, not imagining that I could be advertized by any in a matter so secret, but beleeving (or at leastwise ma­king shew of beleeving) that Dariacan himselfe had beene the instrumen­tall meane of my flight, went in person to Cardamina, upon the walls whereof he caused him to be hanged up, so giving him (as he had before done to the rest) the guerdion due to their treacherie.

I (trusting on the King of Egypt's royall protection) retired me hither, where in this private manner of life I could live more contentedly than e­ver, were it not for the consideration of your person, whose ill fortune is the onely thing that makes me miserable and unhappy. Vpon this she sur­priz'd with two fugitive teares, but repelling their followers with a more than womanly constancie of courage, thus proceeded.

Now upon this state of things it remaines, that wee see what resolution wee were best to fix on; whether to tire our fortune or no, or whether or no the very trying it be not dangerous to our weaknesse. I know there is no [Page 115] man can better counsell us herein than your Highnesse, Prince Polimero; yet I hope you will hold me excused that I begge not that favour of you; because I perswade my selfe that you being come hither in favour and fur­therance of Coralbo, will thinke it unbefitting your great spirit to advise o­therwise than for the enterprise: at the Queenes thus hitting the very white of the truth Polimero blusht; But shee not staying for his answer spake on.

I shall herein desire no other than Coralbo's opinion, whereunto I will (so his reasons convince mine) willingly subscribe. Hee after a short pause with a demurely-resolute aspect, made her this answer.

I pretend not to convince you (Madame) but onely in humble manner to expresse my selfe, seeing it is your will to command me so to doe. Many things there are which out of reason and honesty ought to be done, and yet are not done for being thought unexpedient, which I beleeve beares a great stroake over you in the consideration of this our case. I (for my part) was borne a Prince, and am by Order a Knight, it behooves mee then to dye like whom I was borne, and doe like whom I am; if dangers had wherewithall to binde our hands, there would then never any thing be done in the world, Besides, that security and danger sometimes so neerly resemble each other, and are in humane actions so confused (as it were) that they glide through our hands undistinguished; in so much as we often take (or rather indeede mistake) the one for the other, so as if reason will that wee take hold of this, the selfe-same commands us not to despaire of that.

How many from out of lothsome prisons (hourely expecting the deadly stroake of the executioner) have beene happily transferr'd to the posses­sion of honours and crownes? And how many againe swaying Royall Scepters have by their owne guards (in whom they reposed the safegard of their lives and persons) beene cruelly butchered and inhumanely mur­thered? A Prince's heart therefore should never be either elevated with felicity or deprest with misery, but ever indifferent though in farre different fortunes; never beleeving destiny to be growne so powerfull, that valour back'd by discretion can no more countermand it, and though no other be­nefit could be reaped from it, yet will it in all the seasons of his age be for a mans honour and commendations to dye valiantly a faire death. His mo­ther observing he had thus set a period to his speech, with a gravely-sad smile thus replied.

I see then you answer me not in jest (Coralbo) since in steede of reasons you give me sentences; yet (alas!) did you but know, how easie they are in their explicating, and how hard in their experimenting, you would then (I am perswaded) have omitted the reading them. Action and speculation, doing and speaking, are as nature and pourtraiture; the one really makes what the other but visually represents. And although those first reall bodies be not in that degree of perfection as the exactnesse of the unfallible Art of the Mathematicks would require, yet are they neverthelesse both lively and necessary, whereas the second being either meerely imaginary, or at the best but the brats of fancie, are but inanimate and superfluous.

The Philosophers (humanities picture-drawers) have indeede drawne many pictures of her, without being (for their hearts) able to adde to her [Page 116] other beauties, than such as are apparant in her face, covering the mem­bers (whereunto they knew not what proportion to give) with side gar­ments which they called habits; but if Nature had not her selfe given them their true proportions, which are good inclinations, bootlesse then and vaine were their habits, well might they vaile but never take away their imperfections; a Maske (we know) may well cover a face, but never cleere off it one litle mole, or scarre; and the bodies habit (by the selfe same reason) cannot by any meanes take quite away the halting of a bro­ken legge, though it be never so neatly rejoyn'd and knit together. I could therefore wish, that vertue were considered by you (Coralbo) not according to the imaginary abstracts of the theorick, but reall experience of the pra­ctick. These ideall transcendent vertues are proper solely to God, and such men as, abandoning humane actions, pretend to seize on them by maine flight, come tumbling downe with them to the earth, where they burst their necks with the fall.

The world hath its generall rules, and with honest men, profit and honesty goe hand in hand. Let us then square our case by this rule, and by it exa­mine our resolutions.

To this Coralbo knew not well what he were best answer, for that hee before thought his mothers words would prove to be such as might by some critick (had they beene a subject to a poeticall pen) have beene cen­sured for not observing a decorum; as though there could not be among wo­men either that hight of subtilty of spirit and wits acutenesse, as to appre­hend things well, or that supreame degree of copious and sweete language as were requisite to expresse themselves in the best and most elegant man­ner; but shee standing so seriously attent to her conceits, that shee nothing heeded her sonnes admiration held on her speech.

I once (said shee) in my happier yeares knew a decrepit Prince (whom both the graces and heavens had endowed with the best gifts that lay in the power of their bestowing (a memory which of mee shall be ever ho­noured though unpleasing) this Prince gave for his devise a Leopard, his motto [I either take or surcease] taken from the propriety of that beast, which as soone as he conceives that he cannot overtake the beast he hath in chase, gives over his pursuite; so could I wish, that you (without a ban­doning your swan) weare that Leopard: For applying of whose sense to our occasions I say, That if to suffer ones-selfe to be carried away to great but possible enterprizes be greatnesse of spirit, then surely to attempt things impossible is meere temerity and presumption.

If the kingdomes title were to be tried by a suit in Law, and we withall sure to have justice, then needed we not doubt of its recovery; or though the title were uncertaine, yet should we doe well to try if the uncertainty of the Iudge's owne judgement, his inclination towards us, or some other humane affect in him might any thing availe us; for then without hazar­ding either our selves, our honours, our friends, or servants, we might well adventure (being at the very worst) the hazard of the better. But (alas!) who can hold plea with a tyrant Prince, who being entred into our posses­sion by fraude and force, thinkes he deales fairely enough, though he say he will have no other Iudge than his owne conscience? a judgement in Law unreversable, since (for having no conscience at all) he hath no Iudge [Page 117] to condemne him; this way of justice to private men open, but to us [...] up, inforces us either to retire us, or to passe through a way so full of the thornes of dangers, as we shall wish we had; for who-so would recovere kingdome, should have at his devotion, first some strong Hould for a reilt­ring-place, and next supplies of men, money, and munition, together with a strong faction of friends, interest in neighbouring Princes, and depen­dance and inclination of its subjects. For the first alas! we have beene al­ready treacherously expelled from Cardamina; for money, you have beene robb'd of the treasure in Capraia, and I bereft of that in Cardamina, save onely the more unfit for such imployments; the gold remaining there, which for its weight and massinesse I choosed rather to leave behinde me, than to be with it made a prize my selfe. Friends we have now no more, the old friendship being now changed for a new, with the altering by a new potent Prince of the old into a new government; Besides, if we duly consider the present state of things, we shall then cleerely see, they could not, were they ever so willing, any whit ayde us; nay more, that there is indeede none to helpe us.

Our Arabia environed on all sides with the sea being secured him by Susiana on the one part; and that Susiana by the ruine of the Parthian King your Grandsire, who this day in his extreame decrepit age lives worse yet than we, in extreame poverty and misery, statelesse and hopelesse. For the others, those petty Kings bordering on the two Arabia's stand in feare of him, out of the doubt they have of being themselves one day opprest by him; which is like enough to be fall them whensoever hee hath but a will to doe it; he having in his owne hand the forces, and wearing the Crownes of Parthia, Susiana, and of the three Arabia's, that are the happy­desert, and stony.

Now for the great Monarches, as the Persian and Egyptian, they are pieces not to be moved without certaine gaine: besides their not residing neere enough these States, sithence the seas disunite them, but more than all a secret reason of loving both of them to have one Prince betweene them, who though inferiour to either of them, is yet such a one as can sub­sist of himselfe; for in case he were so weake as he could not, then must he of necessity be faine to put himselfe under the protection of the one or the other of them; which would cause not onely troublesome warres, but also dangers and rebellions in their owne States and Subjects; who for being composed of differing lawes and languages, and desirous to enjoy their liberty and priviledges under their owne peculiar Kings, would not lose the occasion of rising up in Armes; it being the pollicie of such (whose ends are Monarchies) to be ever in warre, but yet to be sure that it be but with some one feeble enemy or other; since many small forces united in one, become apt and able not onely to gaule, but in time to subject even the most potent Princes.

Then for servants, I cannot now name you one that depends on us, Bra­mac having but too cunningly wonne them to be all at his devotion, besides that he hath not a Governour in any place of importance that is not a Susi­anian. And for the Arabians (which is the last of the conditions I spake of) he hath so handsomely screw'd himselfe into their good opinions with an outward shew of justice and liberality, as there is not one of them that [Page 118] desires any change, especially now that they see him blest with a goodly progeny, ever present in the eyes of the people, and nurst up by those who once lov'd and honoured us more than all the rest. This is the contents of all that which with more words, reasons, and examples might have beene produced against your propositions in generall, whereunto I will notwith­standing for your in that behalfe more ample satisfaction, answer in parti­cular.

First you alleadge, that all honest and reasonable things that are not done, are lest und one meerely by reason of inexpediencie; as though in­expediencie were not a reason sufficient enough: why? I know no reason why all things should not suddenly decay and fall to ruine, but that it is not expedient they so should. Againe you seeme to beleeve, that your being by birth a Prince, and by Ordera Knight, obligeth you to attempt ought beyond your strength. For the first, doe Fortune what it doe can, you shall dye a Prince howsoever; the Title is Natures gift not Fortunes, and hee shall ever be a Prince that's borne of Princely parents. And for the other, to doe the acts of a Cavalier, I both advise and entreate you, but would faine know of you first, what you conceive them to be? and whether a Knight be bound to attempt any enterprize whatsoever, wherein is requi­red courage and strength? As for example, if singly to affront an Army, if at a leape to skippe over from the Egyptian to the Arabian shore: Like­wise if neither to feare Neptune in his tempests, nor Iove in his thunder-bolts, be a quality befitting a Knight, or rather some impious brutall vil­laine given over to execrable despaire, I would gladly know?

For the rest, you heare not me say, that you ought to leave any honou­rable enterprize unattempted for feare of dangers, or suffer your selfe to be trampled downe by misfortunes, or that vertue cannot doe more than Destiny, or that you should in a just and honourable occasion shunne a vali­ant death; God forbid I should give you any such counsell, onely my wish and desire is, that all your actions bee squared out by the rule of reason. But yet admit, that I approved of your designes, to assault Bramac, and take from him the State or dye: I would faine know how we shall doe it? whether by us foure, two women and two Knights, or with forces of men? if we alone should attempt such an enterprize, I then feare me the world will say, that none of us either did or died like Knights, or discreete per­sonage: If with Armies, where shall we leavy them? In Egypt, the King will not permit us, nor hath he indeede any reason to professe Bramac en­mity without any ground or foundation of quarrell. Shall we promise him in recompence all our States save onely Arabia? well I am willing wee so doe, yet tell me, dare you trust him? or in case we did, where (I wonder) are the monies to leavy those Armies? nay admit we either had or could make shift for them too, where will you make up a Fleete to transport them? We'le conduct them (you'le say) by land through the deserts: con­tent, but where are the provisions? will they raine downe (trow you) from heaven on us? or will the rocks distill waters for us to drinke in those sands? No, no, the Gods worke not such miracles, but when they please, nor can wee expect that they'le doe so for us, since they are not ministers but avengers of humane avarice and ambition. And though in our case we have (indeed) justice which they are accustomed to favour, yet shall we be [Page 119] never the better for that neither, because it is not Iustice that p [...] you on; no, 'tis Ambition, the avidity of a Crowne, the desire of revenge, and the vanity of making your selfe eminent and famous in the world; venue is but onely the shadow, for vaine affects are the solide body of your de­signe.

This sharpe redarguing of the truth pricked Coralbo neerer the quick than the truth it selfe; well could he have found in his heart to have repli­ed, (though weakely) rather than have yeelded the field at the first assault; but considering with himselfe, that so doing could not any way steede him, nor indeede worke other effect than bring him within the censure of an obstinate and indiscreete disputant, he answered her with silence. When shee bethinking now with her selfe, that shee had held them in too long a discourse, turning her selfe with a sweet respectivenesse towards Polimero.

Renowned Prince (said shee) I doubt I have abused your noble cour­tesie in troubling your spirits (contrary to the tearmes of civility) all this while with our tristing affaires; for which I humbly crave your benigne pardon; let us therefore now (so it please you) walke forth to recreate our selves a litle: and though you here finde nothing worthy of you, yet I shall beseech you to take in good part such entertainement of me as may be afforded, not by a Queene to a Prince, but by a poore disinherited widow to a benigne and courteous Cavalier. To this Polimero having first done her humble reverence thus answered.

Royall Madame, you neede no such preventions, for vertue hath suppli­ed fortunes defects with such an extraordinary liberality, that there is not any participant there of but must therefore remaine your eternall debter; And for the house, although it be not worthy your Royall person, yet is it such, as with its conveniencie might give as good satisfaction as a more sumpteous. Yet were there no other consideration, its very homelinesse would argue the malignity of the Harbinger that so lodg'd you. But I hope to see you one day in another-guise-state.

No; no, (redoubted Prince) said shee, comfort proceeds not from ima­gining an alteration in misfortunes (because in case the same succeede not accordingly the paine becomes greater) but rather by arming ones-selfe against them, and correcting the venome of fortune with the antidote of patience; which if I have not yet constantly observed and wholly per­form'd, yet doe I every day more than other profit somewhat in that to me so necessary Philosophy.

Which divinely-philosophicall speech of hers was indeede evidently demonstrated by the irrefuteable theoreme of her deportment and actions, for shee nothing lesse exprest the greatnesse of her spirit within the narrow circuite of these private walls, than shee had at other times done within the spacious cloysters and comportments of her royall pallaces; since shee wanted nothing save the superfluity of Nature, without which Art can hardly shew the hight of her excellencie; conducted shee had through some small channels of the River Nile a great quantity of water, where­with shee not onely watered her garden, but also nourished curious foun­taines and spacious fish-ponds, wherein were, as well for delight as conve­niencie, bred and fed a great number of choysest fish and daintiest water­fowle; whence the spectators eye was variously attracted to divers statues [Page 120] of Marble (in stately order erected about those well-contrived ponds) so as succeeding ages tooke models of them, which added to the skill of the most famous moderne Sculptors. Shee made a triall also (though not with a successe answerable to her expectation) of planting the weeping balme­trees, and cultiving the seeds of the other Arabian odours, the only affect now lest her after so many losses, but the obvious clime rejecting (out of a discourteous antipathy) those her labours, frustrated that her so noble de­signe.

Now shee had (the first day of Coralbo's arrivall, and at the very instant of his discovering himselfe) asked for Sotiro, and could not (when shee heard of it) reflaine from bemoaning his death, an affliction by her jud­ged to be farre greater than any losse or crosse shee had sustained either in her owne person, or those of her children; construing her being thus by degrees depriv'd of all meanes of comfort, to be an evident signe of hea­vens continuall wrath; hee being that onely one, among so many, that faithfully stuck to her till his dying houre; preferring the interesses of o­thers before his owne, and contemning honours and riches, for becom­ming in a ruined State, a singular example both of flourishing loyaltie, and of a most constant, and till then unheard of fidelity.

The Knights continued there to repose themselves well-nigh a moneth, in which time it was resolved, that Coralbo should not, without good foun­dation, assay any impossibility, nor yet make his abode in Egypt, for not hazarding the danger of being made knowne to his brother-in-law; where the one enjoyed the benefit of a discreete mothers counsels, and the other the royall conversation of a peerelesse woman; nor had they then parted so soone neither, if shee (well knowing Polimero's occasions) had not her selfe exprest, how sorry shee would be, that their stay there should any way prejudice them.

And though her daughter (fond of her brother, and hopelesse, for ought shee knew, of ever seeing him any more) earnestly besought her to detaine him there somewhat longer; yet shee would often tell her, that it was a folly to thinke to cure one griefe with many, and that the privation of things deerely loved were lesse insupportable after a long than after a short fruition of them; and that when Coralbo had sojourned there a whole yeares time, shee would have beene then more loth to part with him, than if he had staid but a day, instancing for an example a feaver, in the hot ex­cesse of whose burning fit, the more a man drinkes, the more he thirsteth, and yet the gaine that the patient reapeth thereby is enfeebling of his sto­mack, and prolonging of his fit; considerations all of them though un­doubtedly true, yet (for all that) insufficient to extirpate from a tender heart the rootes of a naturally-affectionate remorce.

Their parting day being come, the Queene went to visit Polimero, to whom (after having in most lively colours exprest the obligations she owed him) shee recommended her sonne, therewithall presenting him with a box of gold full of most precious Balsome, on whose out side was with curious artifice formed the face of a woman weeping, her teares represen­ted with rich orient pearles, sprinkled with artificiall ornament here and there one, on the anterior part of her countenance, the rest being all over richly beset with Diamonds of an inestimable value: A present (as shee [Page 121] told him) unworthy of so great a Prince, but necessary for such a Cavalier, whose heroike spirit might by spurring him on to great enterprizes, bring him dangers, and those dangers wounds which by that precious liquor might in a few houres be cured: Her sonne shee both enriched with pre­cepts, and accommodated (for prevention of adverse Fortune's incommo­dity) with her richest Iewels. Shee once thought to give him a squire too, till upon calling to minde the infidelity of the others, shee conceived it sa­fer for him to be served with such as knew him not. The last charge shee gave him, was, to thinke sometimes on her, praying him after a while to come againe, that shee might see him yet once more ere shee died: With that word (after dressing her face and eyes at the looking-glasse of con­stancie, and giving him a farewell kisse) shee parted from him, and left him to begin his journey, accompanied with his sisters eyes and teares.

The two Princes rode on their way diversly affected, the one being me­lancholy and pensive, the other blithsome and merry; the later being now resolved (leaving the way of Ammon's Temple, whither hee once purposed with himselfe to goe) to returne directly to Athens, his heart telling him, that hee should shortly light on some unexpected good acci­dent; Coralbo he comforted more with offers than reasons, an argument of an unfained comforter; and he (knowing it now bootelesse to contrast with the will of Heaven) having his minde fortified with generous resolu­tions, stoutly trampled under the feete of his courage both want and for­tune.

Both these Knights being desirous to see (by all meanes) the great Court of Egypt, put them selves on the way to Memphi, where the King then re­sided, faring sometimes well, and other timesill, conformable to the qua­lity of their lodgings.

Phebus now hastened to bathe his swealtry Steeds in the foaming Ocean, when they might descrie a-front of them a Grove of Palme-trees, and in it might heare a great rumor of voyces; whereupon, lacing on their helmets, they spurr'd onwards as fast as their horses could gallop, where come, they might see two knights and no more, busied in slaughtering their as­saulters, at least forty in number, who seemed rather to turne tayle than to fight; observing (though) their time of charging and wheeling about al­together in such an orderly disorder, that the fight seemed to such as be­held it from a farre off, rather a shew than a skirmish.

Polimero suddenly started (as one amazed) at the sight of one of them, whom he thought he should know by a black Eagle which he wore on his crest, and was assured thereof when he saw his Squire, by that time beaten off his horse by six of those theeves that presently fell a-stripping of him maugre all his struggling to get out of their mischievous clutches; and full ill would he have fared (they being already fully bent to butcher him) but for the timely arrivall of Polimero, who sacrificed their cursed lives as an oblation due to the infernall spirits; his well guided sword so conforming to his heroïke spirit, that he strooke never a blow without expected suc­cesse, for doubt of comming in too late to the rescue of the other two, who bravely maintained the fight against a strange squadron of these raskals. Coralbo seeing them skirmish in severall divisions, affronted one of them, charging it with so resolute an arme, that he disconfited it in a moment, [Page 122] and then without lofing any time set upon the second, which with as much facility was rowted by the same valour: upon this the third fronting to their flanckward spurr'd towards him, which one of the two unknowne Knights perceiving, he (leaving his companion, to make good the field a­gainst such of their enemy squadron as surviv'd their deaths-right usurping blowes) resolutely spurr'd on all alone to encounter it; whilst Coralbo see­ing his assistance so well imployed, turn'd to second him with as brave a resolution.

Of a great number that the enemies were, there remained now but the hardiest of them, the rest lying all scatteringly groveling about the palme-trees, as the trophey of these foure Knights valour, so that the remnant of them, knowing they were not able to make long defence, dispersed them­selves upon their flight into severall wayes, which occasioned the separa­tion of the foure Knights also in their pursuite; Polimero and the Knight of the Eagle went together, and Coralbo with the other followed by the Squire: never was chase so obstinately maintained, nor hunted Deere so fleetly pursued, as either of these couples did these fugitive villaines, which was the cause that they lost sight each of other in the confused order of the wood, massacring (all the while) without any remorse those, who re­morselesse and voyde of pitty or humanity lived on the blood of innocent travellers. At length Polimero with the Knight of the Eagle being left (though well-nigh tired) sole Masters of the field, speedily ranne to em­brace and take acquaintance each of other, the twilight having by that time surrendred his dominion to his elder brother [Darknesse] whilst the Sunne plunged in the depth of the Ocean, left sight-depriving night in her full possession. When Polimero lifting up his beaver thus greetes his com­panion.

I know not whether or no mine eyes or imagination deceive me, but if you be not Eromena my Lady and Princesse, Angell of what Hierarchy (I beseech you) be you then of, noble and valiant Cavalier? The other in­stantly knowing him by his voyce, impatient of any delay embracing him with his Armes about his neck, made him this answer. If I then bee her, for certaine you are my Lord and Prince Polimero. Delightsome it was to see, how readily (without any more words) their amorous affects adapted their nimble hands to unbuckle each others helmes, that the wounds of their kisses might have the deeper impression in their love-en­flamed faces. Nor had they beene so soone weary of this as they were of the other battell, had not Eromena's telling him that the Knight her com­panion was Landadori, put him in minde to goe seeke her out, whom accor­dingly they rode a whooping & hollowing for, overall the wood (though in vaine) till their horses in the end growne weary neere a homely house that stood in the open field, they repaired thither to repose themselves; hee freeing (by the way thither) Eromena from all feare of her daughters miscarriage, by the confidence he had of Coralbo's valour, seconded with the assistance of Carasio (who was the Squire) and order before hand taken to meete at Memphi, in case they happened to loose one another.

Come to the lodging, after replied embracements, the first thing that Polimero desired to know, was, the occasion that moved her to come through so many dangers into those so remote parts. Whereupon shee [Page 123] having told him as much as hee had formerly understood by Coralbo, said on.

That after the Count of Bona's departure the King her father was fullen into another farre different but better frensie, upon considering with him­selfe, That the Count being now (good man) growne decrepit and of a crasie constitution might fall sick by the way, and so finde him either not at all or too late; and that upon proposing therefore of sending some other, Lindadori offered (to the passing content of her Grandfather) to undertake her selfe that service; and that whilest the businesse esteemed but a jest, passed unthought on, a great many that were named (fearing the girle's humour) made their excuse with confessing its occasion, but the consulta­tion of dispatching her, appearing to her at length to be but in jest, shee in­wardly fretted thereat, and boldly told the Councell, that shee was now in yeares to beare Armes as well as any other whatsoever; and that in respect shee could not be disswaded neither by hers nor by the King or Councel's perswasion, shee was forced (out of the tender care shee had of her well­fare) to become her selfe her companion, and that so leaving the King ra­ther appeased than satisfied, they had departed to seeke him out: That un­derstanding at Athens what way he had taken, they (without hearing any newes of the Count) crossed over into Egypt, where meeting (by good for­tune) Carasio, they travelled towards Memphi, where they were by the way set upon by those villanous Robbers in manner as he had seene them.

Excessive were the joyes that Polimero conceived at the relation of these good newes, rejoycing withall, that he was so fortunate as to be an eye-witnesse of his daughters valour, though sorry hee heard no good tidings from the good Count, doubting his Father-in-law had not in vaine presa­ged some ill that might since have betided him, which (if any such should happen him) he would have beene as fully or litle lesse sensible of, than if it had befallen his owne Father.

The morning being come, they returned againe to their search, but hearing no newes of them they enquired after, they put themselves on the way to Memphi, to meete them, as was formerly concluded on.

Donzella Desterrada, for her part, gave her runne-away villaines the chase with such an intentive eagernesse, that shee thought not of as much as what concerned the security of her owne person, so intently were all her thoughts busied in chastizing them. Shee had under her an Andalasian Courser of such surpassing speede, as was able to beate one after another all the horses that ever drew in Phebus fiery Chariot. And such a one had shee indeede neede of, to conforme with the velocity of her fiery humour, now also exasperated with the eagernesse of her resolution of not leaving one of them escape her avenging hand, conceiting that shee added edge to her blade, and nerves to her arme by this her maiden hand-fight, and first encounter.

Coralbo on a passing fleete Arabian Steede, given him by the Queene his mother, speedily followed her; well might he have out-stript the winde for swiftnesse, but not overtake her; nay he would have lost sight of her, had not her staying to fight and kill given him time to get neere her.

Carasio in the meane time sollicited his horse with the sharpe Rhetorick of his spurres; but losing sight of her, hee followed as fast as hee could [Page 124] drive Coralbo, whom he might see Northward of him, till at last he over­tooke them both glutting their swords with the blood of those slaughtered caitives; A strange marveile, that two generous young spirits inclined to piety, nay that seemed to breathe nothing but compassion, should in their fights shew themselves to be (or at least seeme to be) so mercilesse, inhu­mane, and cruell; unlesse the reason thereof be, either that true compas­sion springs not from any soft disposition which sensibly feeles in himselfe anothers smart or sufferings, for such were not vertue, but rather faint-heartednesse a brat of imagination; Or, that those vertues depending on Iustice (their true nurse) hold compassion in the punishment of the wicked to be meerely vicious.

But to goe on with our story, Of all that mischievous squadron there re­main'd unslaine but two for the two knights to deale withall, nor had those neither survived their fellowes, but that by their wily dexterous shifts and favourable scituation of the close-growne Palme-grove they found a way to save themselves a while maugre the fleetnesse of the pursuers horses, so as watching their time, and retiring from one tree to another, they made a shift to recover (hard about the waxing browne of the evening) to the mouth of a grot, whereinto they being suddenly entred, used all possible diligence to damme up its entrance with great stones, logges of wood, and such like heavy materialls.

The two Knights thus mocked and o're-reached by the wylinesse of these villaines, amazedly staring each other in the face, knew not what to resolve on, when Carasio with a modest smile thus bespake them.

I should under favour (Gentlemen) conceive it requisite, that valour sometimes cede to discretion, these fellowes are safely lodged, whereas we are shut out without either supper or lodging; leave them (I beseech you) with a mischiefe to some others chastizing hand, since we must either leave them, or hazard the losing of our company. But Lindadori after ha­ving patiently heard him, as impatiently answered; that shee would by no meanes part thence, without first chastizing them, they well meriting it, were it but for fooling her so long as they had done; bidding him (with that) goe seene out for their company, whilst they would expect him there without stirring thence.

Carasio obeyed, but seeing after a short gire that his light was turn'd to darkenesse, he hollowed till he grew hoarse againe, and then considering with himselfe, that hee might both misse those of his company that hee looked for, and hazard the losing of the rest too, hee returned and found them in the same place he had left them, busily endeavouring (though in vaine) to force open the entrance of the denne, and had no small adoe to perswade them to a short truce, upon hope that he would (so they had but a litle patience) fire it open; taking then from off his saddle-bow a port­manteau, and out of it some victualls, he got them to sit downe and fall to, necessity being in such a case of all other the best perswading Orator.

Their helmets being taken off, they marveiled each of them at the o­thers beautifull youth and youthfull beauty, so as (without speaking a word) they gazed each other in the face, either of them expecting that the other should speake the first word; when Coralbo thinking it stood him upon to sweeten the envenomed fury of the maiden, whom hee tooke to [Page 125] bee a man, thus broke first the yee of their silence.

Sir, mee thinkes we should doe well to follow this gentle Squices dis­creet counsell, though (in case you dislike it) I shall be most ready and wil­ling to obey your commands. She without making him as yet any answer, stood with her eyes ever fixt on the denne, so fired with disdainefull anger, that they served for a candle in the pitchie darknesse of the night, made yet more horride by the interposing shade of the thick grove: onely mut­ter out at length shee did in answer to him some few halfe-pronounced words which could not be understood, shee having peculiar to her selfe a­lone one unexpressible quality, which was a pretty pleasing kinde of dis­pleasure, and now shee was sullen and swaggerd though it could not bee discerned why, or with whom it was: But Coralbo continuing still his courtesies and shee her silence, he held it more discretion to excuse her for the tendernesse of her age, than accuse her of small discretion. And though he well observed how richly shee was armed, yet judged he her to bee of some great quality, not so much by her Armes as by her face, wherein her magnanimity and native greatnesse, though vailed under a maiden sim­plicity & exceeding greene yeares, shewed by her disdainefull & haughty gestures more than common merits of reverence and love, being no kinde of defect, sithence such a generous affect in a Virgin, is (to my thinking) haughtinesse of spirit, that like a fierce mastiffe in the garden of honesty secures her from the presumption of either too lustfull or over-bold lovers.

Her forces being refreshed by the meate shee had eaten, inflam'd her choller; up then shee rises, and bundles together whatsoever comes to hand of her, every bough, shrubbe, bramble, and stick, heere or there (wheresoever shee could light on them) would serve her turne: Rend off and gather shee did all that shee found either dry or greene; of the later whereof there was good store, the theeves having the day before (for their owne use) lopped many trees: All that Carasio did (to that purpose) could not please her, so as snatching the tinder-box out of his hand, shee her selfe would needs, and did strike fire; which well performed its office, by kindling in a few houres the matter it fed on into such flames, that the defenders unable to endure its violent heate, left the field of the denne's entrance free for their assaylers.

The hot-spirited Princes, having not the patience to stay to see the (though short) course of that sufficiently furious element, assayed by all the meanes and wayes shee could imagine, to force an entrance through the caves mouth, by thrusting by the logges that stopp'd it (without con­sidering that for not being acquainted with the perhaps many entrances & windings of the cave, shee could not without light doe there any good) but could not possibly move them (for their being so unwildy and massive) till such time, as they being halfe burnt dissevered and fell downe of them­selves; so making a narrow though dangerous passage, to such as had a will to enter; which the Princesse would instantly have done, and had (twenty to one) spoyl'd her selfe for ever, if Carasio by entreaty, and Coralbo by perswasion had not for a litle while restrain'd her, by shewing her both the danger of the fire in entring, and that of the place within being entred, where shee might (by very probable conjecture) rest overcharged in the darke by the desperation of these two (by her unseene) enemies; but she [Page 126] not approving of this their cautelous consideration, bethought her of a strange invention to lighten her passage; for, finding among many stocks halfe burnt, one fit to bee waved circlewise, shee went onwards waving it in her hand to the inmost part of the grot, Coralbo there easing her of that labour, by doing himselfe that office, till come to the farmost part of it, they found the fugitives prepared for their defence: But litle availed it them, miserable caitives, to oppugne (unarmed as they were) the unresi­stable valour of these now with just anger enflamed warriors. Coralbo hand-fasting his, with fase got him under him, now trembling with feare of seeing his dagger at his throat-pipes, whilest the maiden had already slaine hers. And there being provision enough, and among the rest chaines and cords to binde such as they retain'd to be ransomed, Carasio takes one, and therewith bindes his hands and armes, so as he could not stirre to help himselfe, whilest hee lay mumbling out many words understood by none but him, which was to begge his life; for ransome whereof he promised him both riches and prisoners: The Princes being told of this, would faine know where those prisoners were, that they might free them. And being answered, neere a Lake not farre off thence, they granted him what he craved.

Come forth to the ayre, they put off their helmes, Lindadori soone after settling her selfe to her rest, and sleeping as soundly as if shee had beene in her owne naked bed, whilst Carasio watch'd for doubt of some sinister ac­cident, till such time as Coralbo awaked, perswaded him to goe sleepe, with telling him, it was now his turne to stand centry: But upon Carasio's hol­ding that inconvenient, they fell into further discourse, whereby the Squire perceiving that Coralbo knew Polimero by his right name, and was withall very desirous to know the other two unknowne Knights, he thought good to reveale him their names; whereat the other became so astonished, as he knew not what to say of it, expressing himselfe infinitely sorrowfull fot having lost them; till upon hearing how they were to meete againe at Memphi, hee was somewhat consolated, but would without any gaine­saying, when they had ended their discourse, that Carasio should (by all meanes) lay him downe and sleepe.

In the morning as soone as the Princesse awoke, they put themselves on their way, arriving to the Lake in a piece of an houres space, where (having passed through a plat of marish ground thickly over-growne with bul­rushes and canes) they found in an uncouth by-slad a slender Barge that ferryed them over to a small Ile, where having among thousands of thorns and brambles descried a large cottage, they thence heard a pittifull mur­mure of voyces and lamentations.

The Princes had upon their comming into the Barke caused the thiefe to bee loosed, whose being seene in liberty by the villaine of a Boate­keeper, was the occasion that he threw not himself into the water for feare of the two Knights. Entred the cottage, the first thing they did was loos­ing the prisoners, which betweene men and women were some foureteene in number, all pale, leane, and weake; and among these her, who was found wounded in the Piramide and drest by Carasio, and who ere shee was fully healed had fled away by night, to the great discontent of him, who for her had beene left there, and forbidden to follow his Lord Polimero: [Page 127] And now shee well knowing him, was more confused in minde to see him, (whose presence so upbraided her ingratitude) than joyfull of getting out of so loathsome and miserable an imprisonment. Shee stood with neavy downe-cast eyes, not in seeing her nakednesse appearing through her tat­tered ragges, (sithence who-so hath once lost her honesty, stands not upon such termes of modest shamefastnesse) but for having before her eyes him, who by replicated good-turnes proclaimed (in being silent) her faults and ingratitude: Being then ask'd, why shee parted from him ere shee was throughly cured, her answer was silence and weeping: But the Princes knowing nothing from this businesse, causing the cottage to bee emptied and search'd over all its corners, found therein more than ordinary riches in Iewels, Coyne, and aromaticall odours and spices, all which the Prin­cesse (Coralbo having resign'd to her all his authority of disposing them) shared among the prisoners, not so much for defraying their charge to their owne homes, as for recompence of their past sufferings.

Causing afterwards the Cottage and the Boate too (when they had past the water) to be burnt, shee gave, though unwillingly, to the two theeves their promised liberty, shee imagining that promises should not bee kept with such mens-names-usurping Canibals, to the dammage and prejudice of the weale publick.

Thence going altogether in a company, they got to a channell of the Nile, where they shipp'd themselves all save the faire woman of Carasio's acquaintance, who would by no meanes imbarke her selfe, but yet would for all that (a foole as shee was) follow the Knights; who for being there surprized by the night, resolved to make it their lodging, with intention to take the ensuing day the right way to Memphi.

By this time the noble Coralbo had his mind taken up with new thoughts, for being caught with the graces of the faire Princess, without daring to ma­nifest it, upon examination with himselfe of her tender yeares and cu­stomes, both those and these being incapable of any such affect. And with­all (which seemed most averse to him) of a nature farre from an amorous inclination, a contemner of men, and a mortall enemy of such of her sex, who for conforming to their lovers passions, shewed themselves any thing pliable to their loves: And though hee hoped that time might alter her, yet did the suspence of the selfe-same time also torment him, for being un­able to suffer the agony of such long-expecting and uncertaine hopes, hee being but a traveller without either state or meanes, deprived of any cer­taine place of abode, yea and of all power to resolve of any thing, excep­ting such as fortune might favour him withall. But being unable to contrast with heaven, upon re-examined deliberation with himselfe, hee determi­ned to serve her in a somewhat more than usuall manner, and withall to smoother his flames, by assaying if approached her, they could by any meanes without her knowledge warme her. Or in case nought else come of it, yet should he not neede to despaire wholly, were it but for the con­tent that he hoped to receive from her most lovely presence, and yet more lively (because unparalled) gestures; and though the worst that could happened, yet should hee not be the first that for nourishing his amorous hopes, had beene voluntarily deceived, for not yeelding himselfe up to deaths tyrannie.

[Page 128] The princely Mayden on the other side, far (God wot) from any such thoughts, beheld him with an indifferent eye, onely fretting her selfe for his being such as shee could not hate. Her youthfull spirit ruminated on nought else save warre and death, with cruell revenges of wrongs, which poore women every day (as shee conceived) received from men. She held the subjection of her sex to be tyrannicall, and conceiv'd, that both Nature and the Law were therein deceived, and that onely for being abased by tyrant custome, it shew'd not its native vertue: That it was now high time to let the world see it, and (by reacquiring their lost liberty) to make the so inured female sex, if not superior, equall and companion to the other, in favour whereof shee was egg'd on by examples. Well knew shee, that in Egypt (where shee then abode) the Kings had effeminated the men, put them to domestick services, to the distaffe and spindle, to free themselves from dangers and suspitions; shee had also read the Amazon's valorous enterprizes, and thereupon, contemplating the greatnesse of her owne spirit, was confident of accomplishing the full of her intentions. Wherein shee perceived but one sole difficulty, which was, to deprive women of their naturall feares, though she beleeved them to be rather habituall than naturall. Her selfe shee knew to be valorous, not so much by the force of her body, as by the courage of her heart; shee comprehended, that valour consisted, in being neither carefull of ones person, nor incumbred with the feares of death: That the sensibility of wounds enfeebles the forces and blunts the edge of courage, seeing it is the sole cause that makes it effe­minate and backward in assailing, and disadvantagious and slow in defen­ding: Shee therefore concluded, them onely to be more valiant than the rest, in whom had taken deepest roote the indifferencie of either living or dying, confirmed in such an opinion by the nature of irrationall animals, whereof the fiercer are not the stronger but the more courageous. Since that for being endued with more force than men, they would merit the title of fortitude rather than they, if such vertue had its seate in bodily force; that then since women were equally capable of the conceits of the minde, wherefore then not of their effects too? Such were her internall discourses, which if they sometime tooke a turne about any passages, told her of divers effects of love, shee then ever sparkled out disdaine against the shee-lovers, and could have found in her heart to have torne in pieces such of her sex, as being rejected or slighted, tormented themselves with love, an affect (to her thinking) neither necessary nor necessiting, but a simple proposition of free will, an incompatibility by consequence unnatu­rall to love one that hates the person loving, which if it be not (conceiv'd shee) a frensie, must needs be an infirmitie of the braine to be cured with penance and fasting.

The day being come and the horses saddled, the young woman there waited in a readinesse, with her coates gathered up for the better trudging a-foote, which the Princesse abhorring, and failing to perswade her to make use of the benefit of the channell, was therefore faine to consent that shee came along with her, upon the importunity of her entreaties, accom­panied with such a quantity of teares, that never mother shed so many for the losse of her children. Causing her therefore to be put on horse-backe behinde Carasio, shee asked her who shee was, and whither shee meant to [Page 129] goe; having already understood how shee was found, and runne-away from Carasio, she (considering that no evasion could any thing steed her) resolved now (though not without being thereof ashamed) to recite in the termes of truth the story of her selfe in such like words,

I (redoubted Sir) am the most miserable woman that ever was yet borne, since whereas others miseries proceede from fortune, mine spring meerely and wholly from my selfe, so as though but too unworthy in all other respects, yet in this above all I deserve to be pittied of no man, in so much as if the unfained repentance of my faults had not enabled and pre­pared mee for supporting the pennance due for them with an intention to impose on my selfe others somewhat greater, I should then not onely finde my selfe to be in a desperate case, but should also have together with a perverse minde a lying tongue, that in steede of faults and dishonour would blazon my merits and honours, not so much to conceale from your know­ledge my dishonesties, (which should indeede be buried in the center of the earth) as to finde pitty in you, and to gaine your better opinion. At the hearing of these words, the Princesse, kindled as fiery-hot embers, was a­bout to make her hold her peace, till upon her becomming more pliable because of Coralbo's expectation, and shortning the longsomnesse of the way, shee gave way to her relation.

My name (said shee) is Diatistera, by Nation a Grecian, and by birth of the noblest blood in Chio, not because my Father possessing himselfe of its liberty, became tyrant thereof, but for that no other one Family in all Ionia is of more ancient memory than ours, nor any ancestours more re­markeable for vertue, nor renown'd for trophies than are our Forefathers. I was conceived in a private estate, my father then (conformable to the stiles of republiques) being himselfe but a Citizen, & though in greater estimati­on than the rest, yet marked with no titulary dignity of apparent greatnes or eminency above the other prime Senators: This cockarrice of ambitious Soveraignty was then but a-hatching in his braine, for acquiring whereof, he with more than common wyles and subtilties made a shew of those ver­tues, which indeede he never own'd, concealing those vices, which being borne with him, were both his nurse and nourishment.

Hee fell enamoured of my mother, not for any great beauty of hers, but because the malicious subtilty which hee discovered to be in her, pleased him extreamely; a thing ordinary to the worst people, to have an inclina­tion to such as live by quillets and inventions, choosing and indeed loving to be rather deceived by such, than well served by better: Now Nerca my mother in the beginning of this their love was married, and wife to one Rotildo, a personage of conditions most noble, (and to praise them well) quite contrary to hers. Many times had shee tempted him to bring his Countrey into servitude, with the favour of the Persians, who then ruled (as they doe also to this present day) all Asia. Shee would alwayes be a shewing him the facility of the enterprize, by him rejected without ma­king any account of her words, which being sharpned on the whet-stone of ambition, endeavoured to foine him, as if generosity (a royall vertue) would bee lodged with tyrannie and treacheries. But seeing it nothing a­vaile her, and considering withall, that though shee could have perswaded him in time, that yet he was not (for all that) to be trusted (seeing that a [Page 130] minde fast cleaven to vertue cannot be from it dissevered, without danger of re­pentance) shee cast an eye on Pridale my Father, the state and nature of whom being well examined, shee thought by his meanes to withdraw her selfe from equality by her so much hated, and to be reduced to principality which so impatiently shee long'd after, taking for example the Tyrants of Mileto, Epheso, Colofone, and Pirene.

The first step to the enterprize was Adultery, wherein they found such sweetnesse, that the avidity of enjoying each other waxed so insupporta­ble, as they began to thinke of the making away of Rotildo, and then of the subjection of Chio, and climing to the right of their pretended greatnesse. 'Twas strange if not marveilous, that they should have (as they had) both of them ere ever they knew one another, the selfe same designe, and after being acquainted, that this second (which I now told you of) should serve them for a reciprocall instrument: And yet a man (when hee well consi­ders it) may see, that both these make no greater matter of marvaile, a­mong the good, and yet lesse among the wicked if their thoughts strike all in one white. Shee judged him to be the prime and most ambitious man of all the Citizens, and he knew her to be of great parentage, which might afford him matter if not more apt for servitude, at least lesse difficult, for being lesse subject to envy and dangers.

But Rotildo's death must not be effected by violent meanes, his Nobility and power accompanied with the favour of the Lawes supprest their prin­cipall end; sithence the very suspition of being his murtherers had beene as much as their lives were worth; by so much the rather that (hee being endowed with no lesse milde than amiable conditions, and having no ene­mies) no man could misse of conjecturing the truth. So as the most favou­rable sentence that could be denounced against them must have beene ba­nishment, which would burst the neck of their principality, whereunto they could never aspire as long as they were exiled persons, and deprived of their estates, goods, and fortunes. The best course then they could thinke of, was to cause him to be put to death legally, by laying to his charge that crime which he most abhorr'd, and which was indeede parti­cularly theirs, by plotting the treacherie with malicious accusations so subtle as might deceive the world, the Magistracie and the Lawes them­selves.

Now my Father had a bastard-brother named Timocle, more mischie­vous yet than himselfe, to whom he had no sooner communicated his de­signe, and what he had to doe, than he picking (against all reason) a quar­rell with one of the principall Citizens slew him, and then getting a-boord a Vessell for that purpose mann'd, passed over into Asia, and thence to Susa, whilst his brother (then chiefe of the Magistracie) seeming to detest more than all the rest both the foule fact, and the guilty actor, banished him (under a capitall paine) for ever returning againe to his Countrey for any occasion whatsoever, subjecting to the selfe same punishment all such as should but propose his recalling.

The infamie of so enormous a fault was in a loud crie supprest by the justice of his brother, for which the people adored him as a restorer of the ancient integrity, and as the true Idea of a just Citizen in a well-governed republick.

[Page 131] Timocle arrived at Susa, laying aside the popular Greekish arrogance, a­dored the King after the Persian manner, and told him, hee was rent from Pridale a brother of his and the prime Citizen of Chio, not concealing the abominable murther committed expressely to shadow the plot, and offe­red him the Soveraignty of the Ile under the principality of Pridale. Hee proposed, for bringing the affaire unto a head, that under pretext of de­manding a revocation of his banishment, the Persian King should send thi­ther an Embassadour, because in case they did not (as he knew they would not) grant it, they should then be constrained to send him another, to ac­quaint his Majestie with the reasons why they did it not; That then Pridale would cause to be chosen the most potent of them, to the end that taking occasion of calumniating him as corrupted by the Persians, hee might be put to death, which succeeding, the City would then rest wholly under his brothers authority.

This was not the first time that the King had treated with other Grecians of the like affaires, so as their legeritie & inconstancie were already known to him, though he would never have beleeved them to have beene so mis­chievous: But the insatiable desire of domineering, having no regard to either vertue or vice, he being already possessed of the greater part of the Cities of Ionia in the Continent, deemed the occasion most opportune for getting footing in the sea. And therefore accepting of the proffer, after being sundry wayes (but more especially by Pridale's Letters) assured, that Timocle's relations were no false alarums; hee wrote to Farnabazzo his Lievetenant in Asia, to execute as much as by him were proposed him.

Farnabazzo readily obeyes, sending a Captaine to Chio, to demand on the Kings behalfe, the revocation of Timocle. To whom Pridale making a shew of being now a more irreconcileable enemy than before, cried out; That such favours from a King so long since a pretender to the subjection of Greece could not be obtain'd of a Timocle without conventions dangerous to both the State and Liberty; and though it so were not, as it could not but be so (since hee would not have the boldnesse to returne with danger where he was hated without the security of some secret forces) yet should he not at any hand be so gratified, were it but for not shaking the founda­tion of the Lawes; an example apt to minister occasion to other Princes to require the like, which in effect was to bring under the free dispose of stranger-princes both the liberty and republick: Declaiming afterwards against the case, he was so loude on it, that the very walls seemed to shake thereat; particularizing withall, the circumstances, to make him appeare so much the more unworthy of clemencie: But seeing the most part of the Councell rest ambiguous, for not knowing how to deny the favour without injury, he proposed the Embassie in designed termes. To him it was easie to obtaine all, yea they would that he himselfe propounded the Embassa­dour, which was even all that he desired; he obeyes, and (after many long and tedious excuses, carried with a no lesse artificiall than counterfeined modesty) he at length names Rotildo, with a faire encomio of his praises, saying, hee did it not for his Nobility and riches, but for the amability of his conditions and carriage; and also because he being of an incorruptible goodnesse, and already gracious with the Persians, would with universall satisfaction obtaine as much as he required or desired.

[Page 132] Accordingly Rotildo was (conformable to the wish'd desires of all of them) created Embassadour, he (harmelesse Gentleman) not repugning it, for being desirous to doe his Countrey any good service. But on the contrary, expressing an obligation to Pridale for having done him the ho­nour of making choyce of him among so many, an election for the which he came to be declared (and not without envy) the best and worthiest of all the Citizens. Nor failed he to thanke him also apart, taking with the publick instructions his counsels; (by the direction whereof he beleeved he could not erre) and with them the company of two young Gentlemen, not onely a kinne, but also partiall to Pridale. Arrived at Susa, the King tooke on him to be beyond all measure incensed at the negative, so as hee was faine to stay there above three moneths, to worke out of his minde the ap­parant misse-impressions; the King suffering himselfe to be (in that while) gain'd by litle and litle, in so much as placing him (at length) among the number of his freinds, he did him all such favours as could procure him to bee envied, and ill-spoken of the Courtiers, by sending to him often­times (contrary to his custome) the greatest favourites of his Peeres and great ones, making them stay and fall into private conference with him, as though they had treated of some affaires of exceeding great consequence.

Timocle on the other side (who at the first made a shew of being his enemy, by saying and doing against him all the ill offices that such an ap­parance required) shew'd himselfe now in the selfe same time more milde, and afterwards honouring him with the favour of his often visits, would stile him the light of Greece, the honour of Chio, and a personage worthy to be for his vertue honoured, nay adored even of his very enemies. And because all this was true, his words were taken to be really and truly spo­ken, and his fained courtesies to be friendly offices to the Embassadour, who afterwards parted gratified and honoured to the joy of all his retinue, who returned triumphant, for bringing (to their thinking) along with them to the republick both peace and the Kings favour.

In the meane while of this his stay abroad I was conceived, so as my mother doubting lest her husband should take notice of the effects of her adultery, sollicited my father to the precipitation of the businesse. But he (who would save all) contented her, with assuring her, that the time should worke out her safegard without disordering any thing.

Two moneths were not passed after Rotildo's returne, when Timocle pas­sed into Ionia, with order from the King to leavy in the neighbouring Pro­vinces such forces of men as he should thinke fit, and by faining the order to be secret, caused its fame to be spread overall Greece. The Governours shipp'd the leavies of men and sent them him from all parts, he keeping his rande-voo at Ephesus, to make up there a Fleete of Ships, whilst all the Iles and Cities of Greece prepared themselves for defence, each of them standing in feare, this warlike-storme would fall on her; onely Chio secu­red by Rotildo never thought on it; In so much as the people astonished that shee thought her selfe so secure, shewed her her ruine so palpably, as if they had pointed at it with their fingers, arguing it from the presence and authority among enemies of an injured and banish'd Citizen, who for the deniall given to the Kings Embassie on his behalfe, could ruminate no other than affects of anger, discontent, revenge, and despaire.

[Page 133] There chanced to be then in Ephesus one Chirito of Lisbo, who whilst he liv'd a young man at Athens, was a very intimate friend of Timocle, (both of them having not onely liv'd under one roofe, and for a long time dieted at the selfe same table, but had also in common (together with their studies) their pleasures, commodities, and incommodities) and was now come to Ephesus to a sister of his, who being left a widow, had sent for him to take order for her widowe, estate and children. This Chirito as he was a lover of liberty, so was hee an enemy to the tyrannie of the Per­sians in particular; for seeing them on the point of subjecting Greece, as was not unknowne to Timocle, whom the other wonders to see now side with them, but more at the authority he there exercised, which was much for such a man as he to attaine unto, under so great a King as that of Persia, which he imagined could not but be to the prejudice of either Chio or that Countrey. The newly-conceived hate therefore more than the old friend­ship made him desirous to goe see him, meerely to espie his actions, and get what he could out of him, whilest Timocle, who desired nothing more than to be espied, made as though he tooke no notice of it. After recipro­call salutations Chirito tels him, how glad hee was to see him neere so great a King in so eminent a degree; for which Timocle courteously than­ked him, with telling him, that his fortune should not yeeld a barren re­turne to his friends obliging favours, since the chiefe end of his desire to be advanced to any eminencie, was to be able to gratifie and serve them. But as concerning his enemies, hee would let them see, that he knew how to make use of it to their smart and prejudice. So afterwards in his further discourse, complaining of his Countrey and brother, he vowed he would so worke his revenge, that the world should have somewhat to talke of.

Chirito purposely fallen on this proposition, stood watching the oppor­tunity to draw out of his mouth his intended designe, whereas the other on the contrary faining that he did all he could to keepe it in, expected but the occasion of telling it, making now a shew of being heate with anger, and that the fury of his choller had made him thus vomit our his secfet; And with that he praised heaven, for having changed unto him Greece for Persia; pride, and the disdainefull Citizen into the gentlenesse and content­some delights of a great Court, and the tyrannie of an inhumane and cruell brother into the favours of the greatest and most courteous King of the Vniverse; who missing to restore him by any faire meanes, bad given him forces, thereby both to restore himselfe to his liberty, and also avenge him of his enemies. But Chirito with counterfeit charinesse shewing him, that the Fleete hee there saw was not enough for his turne, Chio being strong of it selfe; besides that in respect of the confederate Common­wealthes contributing all of them towards her defence, (as he might bee assured they would) the enterprize would not prove to be so easie, especi­ally considering that they would perhaps have sought with him ere his ar­rivall in Chio; To this Timocle in a despising manner answered him; That before the Fleetes could joyne together to offer him fight, he would have hang'd up without the Walls upon the Gate of Chio that Traytor his bro­ther. And for the rest, that he was not so foolish to stirre in it without be­ing certaine of the enterprize. Chirito (with shrinking in his shoulders re­plied) that he conceived not how that could be, without secret intelligence. [Page 134] To which Timocle smiling answered; But admit I had such, what would'st thou say of it then? I tell thee then I have, and such too, that litle shall my brothers malice or some others presumption availe them. Here he named Rotildo, and then taking him by the hand proceeded. From hence forwards thou maist know Chirito how much ancient friendship can doe, I have now committed to thy trust the greatest secret that is this day in the Court of Persia: see therefore (I pray thee) that it be safely lock'd up in the secret cabinet of thy brest: If thou wilt continue my friend, I will further thy advancement, and doe for thee; if otherwise, yet shalt thou have no cause to thinke hardly of mee. Come along with me in this expedition, and I will give thee (over and besides the merit and favour thou shalt gaine thee in the Kings eyes) a worthy place of command among the chiefe Cap­taines. And that thou maist see that my proceedings are grounded on a sure foundation, I'le tell thee all. Know then that Rotildo, upon promise of the Principality, agreed with the King to sow at my arrivall sedition with­in the Citie, and to bring mee in with his faction; which may bee easily done, by assaulting Chio both within and without.

Chirito remained at these newes struck to the heart: Rotildo hee knew wonderous well, but the treason was so handsomely contrived, and the apparances thereof so correspondent, that the argument of his goodnesse conceived to be now o'recome by his ambition, had no force so to con­clude for him, as Chirito punctually beleeved not all that hee had heard; and then without staying to heare any more, commending him for groun­ding his affaire upon such sure foundations, accepting the offer of going along with him, and infinitely thanking him for honouring him with such a favour; he thought every minute a yeare till he returned to his lodging; where writing a letter thereof at full, he sent it to Chio by a trusty friend of his, forbearing to send it by any of his servants for feare of being discove­red. The sea was then free, for though the suspition of the warre was great, yet was there not (for all that) heard of till then any hostile effect.

The messengers with most prosperous winde arrived in Chio, a litle after that my fathers two kinsmen that had beene with Rotildo in Persia, decei­ved or suborned, presented themselves to a certaine Magistrate of supream authority in State-matters. An accidentall branch of whose office was to keepe inviolably secret both the accusers & testimony of witnesses. There they exposed and deposed, That they never had since their returne from Persia had the heart to beleeve, much lesse relate that which they had with their owne eares heard against the person and faith of Rotildo; but that see­ing the passe whereunto things were now brought, and understanding for a certaine, that Timocle was in Ephesus with an Army, they mov'd with the love of both their countrey and themselves, accorded to be no longer si­lent, now that the said apparances made them beleeve that to bee true, which till then they did not: This preludium ended, they said on.

That fortuning to be locked up in some of the Royall lodgings of Susa, neere the chamber where sate the privy Councell, who were wont to shut themselves up when they were come together, they heard them serious in discourse about Chio and Rotildo, these two names being all they under­stood, (the Councell speaking in their owne language) till they heard Ti­mocle call'd for, and a litle after ask'd in Greeke, if Rotildo had power en­ough [Page 135] to give up Chio to the King; and if also having gotten the principa­lity thereof he would prove faithfull and loyall to his Majestie? Hee an­swered yes, discoursing with that a long while upon his Nobility, riches, and traine; That for his faith they might well be assured of it, because of his being a marveilous upright and honest Gentleman, and such a one as would not have accepted of any condition that prejudiced the liberty of his Countrey (hee being not naturally ambitious) but for the exceeding pride of the Citizens becomming extreamely insupportable. This said, there was no more Greeke spoken, nor Timocle any more heard speake; and we being besotted with Rotildo's famed integrity, firmely beleeved, that Timocle had maliciously caused us to bee locked up there, to make us beleeve what he had made us heare. Vpon this deposition, the good Ro­tildo was suddenly shut up in close prison, so as no man could come to speak with him: And whilst upon his examination hee called the Gods to wit­nesse of his innocence, thither came Chirito's letters: Whereupon without being any more suffered to speake for himselfe, being so accused by two, and now convinced by the third, he (unfortunate Gentleman) was mise­rably and injustly strangled.

Timocle understanding of Rotildo's death, seeming to be then apparently desperate, as if by it all his designes had beene frustrated, and the neck of all his projects broken, made a shew of licensing his troupes for returning to Susa, but yet entertained them howsoever, having by his former seem­ing-reall fame dissolved the conjunction of the Greekish forces, whilst my Father (not without being therefore censured) espoused my Mother, shee telling such as thereof spake to her, that shee would have married not only Pridale, a personage so eminent, but any base man whatsoever, rather than heare her selfe called after the unlucky surname of a wicked Traytor; a re­solution, which as it attoned all my mothers kindred, so was it the occasi­on that those of Rotildo retired for absenting themselves from the City the time of that marriage, to my Fathers exceeding content, for being so secured from any more contrasting untill the full accomplishment of his designe.

Timocle being advertized of what he had to doe, parted one night, arri­ving at Chio so suddenly, as her Citizens had not time to shut their Gates. And my Father gathering together his old and new kinred and alliance, and guarded with a great squadron of arm'd followers (as himselfe was too from head to heele) hee bade them cheere up their hearts, since that Fleet was come thither at his request: Heere without staying for any answer, they being bid follow him, did so, nor had they indeede time to consider of a deniall. His Brother he met at the Gate without the City, who ac­companied with many Captaines salutes him by the title of Prince, pit­ching with that the colours royall of Persia on the Walls of the City and publick Pallace, wherein the new Soveraigne immediately lodged, expel­ling thence the Magistrate, and altering the Orders of the Government, over which he placed Timocle President.

Vnexpressible was the amazement of the Citizens, seeing themselves baffled with the most maligne and envenomed hypocrisie that ever was heard of; the justest, honestest, and most zealous among them, having bin under pretext of justice and zeale betrayed and put to death; whilest the [Page 136] other complotted such a businesse by wayes twice as wicked as wylie, who yet had made them beleeve, yea and see too the contrary in the contrary, and gotten himselfe to be deemed the best, whereas he was full of all ima­ginable wickednesse and villany, and was whilest hee tooke on him to bee the sole vindicator of the Common-wealth's liberty, a-mounting up to the throne of his tyrannie at the cost of their simplicity and folly. And yet their evils had beene lesse, if they had here ended. But the Persians being departed, after having first left him secured by a strong band of their old milice, hee called before him the Citizens, the greater part whereof hee caused in divers Temples to bee put to death by sundry torments. But I will passe over this relation serving now no more for my purpose, it be­hooving me to come to the story of my selfe.

I was borne the fourth moneth after that the Matrimony was contra­cted by my Parents, they adding to the summe of their former hatred and infamies that of adultery, before not publickly knowne; which (for de­claring me theirs) was by them themselves most shamelessely published. The Gods were pleased to shew in me their Omnipotencie in my creation, by giving mee the fairest body and the foulest soule that ever creature in this world was composed of. I grew in beauty, and with it in the worst conditions, my parents having no other ayme than to please mee, nor I other examples than their dishonesties. At three yeare old I was mistresse of shamelessenesse. Growne to sixteene, my brother (borne a yeare after mee) was my sweete-heart and lover; but we had both of us rivalls, I my mother, and hee my father; wee therefore had runne away together, so worried were we with their importunity & hinderances that they brought us, if they perceiving it, had not given us way: I conceived almost pre­sently the occasion of providing mee for husband the Tyrant of Samo's sonne, who a few yeares before had also usurped that Principality by my Fathers meanes.

The young man came and married me, with an intent to bring me home immediately; but I for being gone by then five moneths of my time, would not assent to goe, for feare of subjecting my selfe (in case I were discove­red) to the dangers of any mans passions. The first night that we came to­gether I shew'd my selfe a daughter worthy of him that had begotten me; There was not any species of simplicity that I counterfeited not affectately, nor teares seconded with sobbes & skritches, that I seemed not to showre abundantly, and act to the very life: The toyle and adoe he had to possesse himselfe of mee were sufficiently manifested by his sweating and weari­nesse. There was not the least marke nor symptome of untouch'd virginity to be desired in me, that I had not sufficient to beguile the best experientest living in that kinde. Nay I was not ashamed with my crying and frequent skritches to turne the house topside-turvie: In runnes my Mother (as was before betweene us accorded on) to act her part of the tragicomedy, and shewing how I was (forsooth) swounded, shee revives me by besprinkling me with vineger and odoriferous waters.

My time of childe-birth being come, as I was laid a-bed, upon the very point and instant of my delivery, in came my husband, so as I was forced with compressing my cries and teares, to bring forth my burthen under the quilt in his presence, smothering the babe with my knees, lest its crying [Page 137] might bewray me. I called my disease fits of the Collick. And the very fame night supped (as I was wont to doe) out of my bed, and had (so im­pudently bold was I) layne with my husband too, but for my mother, who said shee would sleepe with mee her selfe, to helpe mee with medi­cines if my fits returned.

Hee in the meane time all enflamed with love of me, could not endure the want of mee, nor beleeve mee to be his as long as I abode among my owne kindred. Every day would I promise to goe along with him; but the incestuous blinde love of my brother had mored my anchors so fast, that my ship could not be loosened from those shores; and my husband impatient of my stay, did the more importune mee, for conceiving this brotherly affection to bee of another sort than that of them which were borne of one and the same wombe: Hee therefore began now to open his eyes better, though better it had beene for him that he had not; For chan­cing to come suddenly into a chamber, and finding us there together in an act not of the honestest, hee drew out his sword, my brother doing the same with his, and so (there being no body to part them) miserably kill'd one another in my presence; my brother dying suddenly, to whom I ranne, and affectionately kissing him, reviled my expiring husband with such in­jurious language, that had (but for my being in the highest degree impu­dent) beene capable to make me for a third dye for meere shame. But be­ing used to care for nothing, this disaster being past, I cared litle for it, and lesse for my brother, whom I had lov'd meerely for my pleasure, which failing with him, I was to supply by others.

This disaster was (as others were) masked by the subtilty of my father and mother; who considering how prejudiciall my presumption might in time prove, began to hate me, upon the aggravation of Timocle's perswa­ding them either to curbe or kill me. All affections in him, though in all vices extreame, ceded to that only one of reigning; so as though enclined to all kinde of mischiefe, he became to be in outward shew vertuous, for not falling at the fall (or decease) of his brother, from that state wherein he (in his conceit) liv'd happily. And my father knowing, that as hee was the instrument of his greatnesse, so he might be also the like for his depres­sion, stood so in feare of him, as he doubted he would be angry if he fol­lowed not his counsels, having a perpetuall eye to the good opinion the King of Persia, and many great ones had of him, to whom he was become gracious by his nature, pliable to all humours; so as Cameleon-like he with the good would appeare in the best colours, and with the wicked in the worst.

Nerea my Mother an hundred for one more malicious and mischievous than my Father, and that for her owne ends, had esteemed his brother more than he, entertaining him with the carriage rather of a strumpet than a sister-in-law, and salving her husbands jealousies with the selfe same cunning; endeavouring to make him beleeve, that so shee must have done to save them both from being undone: Reasons (at first) perhaps good, but no longer now after the disaster of his sonne; doubting, and with rea­son too, that shee carried her selfe towards him as shee had done towards her other husband; observantly therefore examining her demeanour to­wards his brother, he considered it to be the fabrick of his danger & ruine.

[Page 138] All my Mothers wit was after the death of her sonne employed in ex­pugning the interessed continencie of Timocle, which being once battered, shee hoped to be whole directresse and commandresse of all. Much adoe shee had in assaulting it, but at last shee wonne it. Timocle as wylie, malici­ous, and mischievous as so many more, subjecting himselfe by degrees to the webbe of the ill-warpt thread of a worser spinster. The businesse went not far onwards, because my Father was now resolved to make sure worke of them, who considered that the Principality being to him and his heires, tooke from all others all pretext thereunto, as long as he and I stuck toge­ther; not without forethinking, that womens disability to tyrannie (an engine to bee managed with forces and terrours, conditions farre distant from the nature of their sex) and my being horribly detested of every one, would have brought him no small disadvantage: Yet howsoever ha­ving no other prop to leane upon, hee choosed this for his present ends, any shade serving his turne that lyes scorched by the Sunne. And though that innovating might goe neere to spoyle all, and move on to a certaine end uncertaine perils, yet thought he it not his best course to put it in doubt, since preventing a mischiefe and surprizing the mischiefe-plotter is better than to be prevented and surprized. Hee therefore began to honour mee, using me (as presumed heire) with much respect, by participating to mee his affaires, calling me into counsell, and giving mee a Family, and among them, some of the best reputed and honestest Matrons of Chio, perswading me to vertue, good conditions, and more especially to a modest and honest course of life, framing himselfe also to the same in outward appearance so punctually, as hee now seemed to be no more that first Pridale: And to the end that Nerea and Timocle might prove the authors of their owne ruine, hee seemed to be hoodwink'd at their actions, by cherishing and making more of them now than before, making an account, that their becomming odious unto the world would preserve him in his Principality, for doubt of a worse, if not for choyse of the better.

Timocle penetrating his brothers thoughts by his behaviour, conside­ring how the government had wonne him many, all favours having beene done either mediately or immediately by him, and all rigours and injustice imputed and conceived to be Pridale's, although his conscience told him, that he was ever hated but in an equall degree with himselfe, who was a murtherer, a betrayer of his Countrey, and good men, a complotter of tyrannie, an adulterer, and an incestuous miscreant; abandoning therefore all domestick hopes, hee fastned on forraigne, better founded and more certaine. Hee wrote to the Persian Court, and complain'd of Pridale, not in termes of enmity, but as a well-meaning man, proposing the dangers of sedition in the people, who were like enough (so they but once recovered their liberty) to breake the hedges not onely of Ionia, but even of all the Provinces of Greece. That therefore order should be given for some num­ber of good Souldiers and Galleyes to keepe the Ile in awe: Hee obtained as much as he desired, upon a conformable letter of Farnabazzo Lievete­nant Generall in Asia, an ancient friend of Timocle's, and conserved such by presents, and by the common opinion of the Peeres, that hee was ra­ther a Persian than a Grecian.

My Father looked pale at the hearing of the order of sending him Gal­leyes [Page 139] and Garrisons. And seeing himselfe in such a streight, resolved to clip his brothers ambition's wings, by having him guided to the precipice of his downe-fall. Hee surprized Timocle and his wife together on the fact, or as wee say with the manner, whilest they were more carelesly li­centious, for thinking themselves secure enough from him; and shewed them in the act both to the Principall of the City, and to the Persian Cap­taines and Officers, and then speedily convicting them, put them to death; the most welcome accident that had befallen Chio, since shee had lost her liberty, which shee judged to be a very good beginning: Faine would my Mother have seene me before her death, but that last boone of hers was not granted her.

Having stepped this irrevocable pace, my Father not knowing how to refuse the destinated milice, bethought himselfe of sending me into Persia, that I serving for a silent hostage might more handsomely excuse him thereof, hoping that my beauties were sufficient to obtaine of the King & Court all that I knew how to demand. Having received my instructions, we gave out (to vaile with a modest pretext this till then unheard-of femi­nine embassie) that I went to be entertained in the Queenes service, till I married againe.

Come to Asia accompanied with a Noble Family of Knights and La­dies, I came to speech with Farnabazzo; I stood not to praying, but com­manded him (so much authority conceived I to have over him in an in­stant) to forbeare to send the forces either of men or galleyes destinated for Chio, till he had further order from the Court. I was obeyed, passing afterwards from place to place without any expence, besides my being gratified by all, even till I came to Susa, reserving (all the while) apart my naturall conditions, to the end the coyne of my beauty (being conserved in its full weight) might be the more currant to steede mee where I went to spend it; I arrived in Court, with a noble conduct of such as beyond any expectation of mine came to meete mee by the way, although indeede I strongly relied on my winning qualities. Being presented to the King, I carried my selfe Courtier-like, having in three monethes time learnt the Court-customes and phrases, of such as had honoured me with their com­pany and attendance, so as I now knew well how to convert the Grecian demeanour into that of the Persian, and the odious popular audacity into venerable adoration; insomuch as I cannot tell you, whether the King re­mained thereat more amazed or taken. I superficially passed over the faults of my Vncle and Mother, and enlarged my selfe upon their conjuration, giving it such colours as pleased me best, I shewed him that my Father could not display before him any more evidently visible ensignes of his devotion, than by sending mee his onely Daughter and heire, to doe him obedience, and put my selfe at his feete, to the end, that shee being formed after the Idea of his royall will and pleasure, might give him certaine assu­rance of our loyall subjection, for obtaining the favour of conserving those branches, which by the favour of his Majesty and our good fortune were grafted to the stock of so high and noble a Monarchy.

The King listened to me with great attention, and then without suffering me to kneele any longer, raised me up, and put me to sit on a cloth of Tis­sue Cushion, himselfe being seated upon a Throne of pure gold under a [Page 140] large canopy chased all over with pearle and precious stones, adorn'd with faire banners enriched with deepe fringe of finest gold. He sate environed with his Peeres divided into two wings, with that semblance of humility that comes neerest adoration. His answer was short, his joyfull counte­nance and smiling garbe partly expressing his intended speech, which was, That he was glad of my comming, and that Pridale could not thinke of a better meanes to free him from blame; whom, to gratifie me, he received into the number of his friends; whereat I being risen up to adore him, he tooke me by the hand, and amorously beholding it, asked me if I were not weary after so long a journey; whereunto (I submissively kneeling down, and kissing his unawares of him) answered; that wearisomnesse had no place in such, who were honoured with enjoying the paradice of his cele­stiall presence. So pleased was the King with my action and adulation, that raising me up himselfe, and kissing me, he said to his Peeres, that he had ne­ver all his live's time seene either a fairer or a discreeter woman; giving (with that) order to the Lord high Chamberlaine to assigne me lodgings; which was soone done, for he accompanying me out, consigned mee the richest Chambers, and neerest the King of all the rest.

I cannot expresse unto you the joy that I conceiv'd from so good a be­ginning, not that there stuck not in my heart a certaine internall doubt of the issue of the enterprize, upon laying before the eyes of my considera­tion womanish envies, from which (for all that) my heart would have gi­ven mee a free issue, if mischievous subtilty could have done it. But what I doubted of was Fortune, a thing above the reach of humane will.

Scarce was I possessed of my Lodgings, when I pretended to goe see the Queene, a favour rarely granted to strangers, the women being there ever retired, not stirring abroad, but vailed and waited on by Eunuches. But to mee any thing was easie to be obtained of the King (who was disposed to will even what I willed) and of the Queene too; because shee being infor­med of my comming, and of the graces and favours I had received, had an extreame desire to espie out some imperfection or blemish either in my face, body, or demeanour; I found her indeede of rare beauty, though insipide & livelesse, of a meane spirit, and that litle poorely pieced up with simplicity and an ill grace; so as it was no wonder, if the King growne weary thereof became enflamed of mee, rather for my garbe or carriage (as I perceived) than for any excelling beauty of my face, for that I con­fidently beleeved (and that without mistaking too) that the Queene was fairer than I. Beyond measure then remain'd I consolated, when I com­prehended the advantages I had of her; I had now therefore no more feare of my selfe, since I was assured to bring the King subject to my beck, for that I was to encounter with a Genius inferior to mine. I formed ne­verthelesse (with my seeming foresight, and penetrating the unexpert craft of those women) an ocean of jealousies and absurdities; because who-so meanes to beguile another, must make a shew of conditions uncapable of begui­ling any. I should be too tedious in recounting unto you all the particulars of accepting and entertaining me in her service, the grace I thereby ac­quired, her ill will being changed into liking, & her envy into well-wish­ing, trophies litle esteemed by mee, otherwise than as they served to my principall end.

[Page 141] The enamoured King, thinking to gaine me with the smoake of his fa­vours and presents, remained astonished to see me so deceive his expecta­tion, and asking me the reason of my (as he tearmed it) cruelty; I answered him; That it was not the use of Princesses in my Countrey to serve for Concubines, nor could I with my honour bee such, though to so great a Prince; so as he was excluded from enjoying me otherwise than as a wife. But the plurality of women not of wives being accustomed in Persia, gave him by my words an inkling of either repudying or making away of his present wife; hee that conceived well enough my meaning, extazied with excessive love answered no.

That he had no other occasion to put her away, than for her barrennesse; and then againe to take another without being assured of having issue by her, was a thing hee could not doe, because in case that that other proved barren, it would behoove him (for his States satisfaction) to follow the first example, a point that troubled me much, so as I thought upon it many dayes with my selfe, till seeing that my consideration hammered ever on the anvill of the selfe-same conceits, I was forced to condiscend to his de­sire upon his royall promise, that as soone as I were knowne to bee quick with childe, hee would make me his wife. But tasted that he had once the sweetenesse of my embraces, and seene the difference betweene a woman of frost and one of fire, he became so transported with the exceedingnesse of his content, as he thought of nothing else save to ridde himselfe of his wife. Now he never thought of making her away with poyson as I would have done (the easiest way for him,) nay I was a good warrant to doe it without asking him any leave, if I could, but that I wanted the simples and meanes to effect it withall; so that there now resting mee no other hopes than from being quick with childe, I quite despaired thereof, after five or six moneths time, wherein I tried so many experiments, as went neere to cost me my life, by endeavouring (as much as in me lay) to prove my mothers prognosticks false; who upon my delivery of childe-birth told me, that I should never suffer any more such paines, my incommodi­ous delivery having so bruised me within, and its sorenesse so augmented by my naturall heate, as deprived me of all possibility of conceiving any more.

I made many trialls of my selfe according to my Physitians direction, especially of certaine suffumigations of Mirh, Incense, and Storax, which passing from the inferior parts of the body to the mouth and nose, denotes a possibility of conceiving, but through me (to my but too great discon­tent) they passed not, though upon experimenting it on one of my Gen­tlewomen, I found a different effect.

Missing thus of the Direct way, I turn'd to the Oblique, and to the sup­plying with cunning the defects of Nature. For, I caused to be laid waite for in three severall places, three women great with childe litle or nothing differing in their time, my Physitian serving me faithfully in that employ­ment, and making each of those women beleeve, that he would reare it up as his sonne, in performance of a Vow he had made to Esculapio. And my will was, that they should be three, out of the likelihood that one of them might be a boy, and that I might (in case one of them died) have my choyse of the other two; so then I tooke on me to be great with childe, [Page 142] to the Kings so great pleasure and joy, that hee went neere to grow wilde thereat; I wanted (you may well imagine) no symptoms, being therein helped by certaine vomitive pils, which by me swallowed downe in the morning wrought on me at so measured a time, as they began their opera­tion just at my rising off the table; In the night time likewise (by taking halfe a glasse-full of certaine water, privily laid by one of my women at my beds head) I awakened with my vomiting the King, who forgetting what he was, served me for a servant and waiting-boy: That which be­guiled him, others, and (well neere) my selfe too, was the comming no more of my ordinary visits, & the appearing of milke in my brests within two moneths after; insomuch as I beleeved that I was with childe in good earnest; but my Physitian soone lopp'd off that pleasing branch from the tree of my conceit, by letting me see, that the veines being over-stuff'd with blood, which should have runne else-where, had transmitted it up into my brests, where it converted into milke; which in case it (for my not purging my body) continued, would occasion mee a dangerous and violent disease.

Delivered that one of the three women was by night, and by good fortune of a goodly male-childe, he was brought mee by the Physitian, and handsomely conveyed under my coates, close to me, with all circum­stances needfull for keeping the plot undescried; my Midwives and nurse­keepers I had ready at hand, and one Lady that the Queene put with mee to see mee delivered, by me long before so beguiled, as shee now no more doubted of my being great with childe. For, I having lately caused to be taken away from too kitlings newly littered the clawes and tongues, and handsomely fitted them under my smocke, made them feele thereabouts with their hands, whilst they made just such another motion, as babes doe in their mothers wombe.

No sooner was my Physitian departed, than that I shriked out such loud cries, as waked all the Pallace, I hastily roame to my bed, where I lay in such a plight, as they tooke me for dead, so handsomely did I counterfeite my selfe for such, by my fast-grasped hands, and eyes so rowled up, as no­thing but the white of them appeared. They all-to-be-rubb'd me over, and kept such a doe about me, as they had kill'd the little creature, but for the moistnesse of the blood that discovered it. Lifting up the bed-clothes, they found nothing wanting in me for manifesting my being delivered.

The King hearing I was on the point of death, came running into my Chamber, the same did also the more than me dead Queene, it behooving her in spite of her heart to make a shew of gladnesse on this birth, which pierced her very heart, and of sorrow for that evill, which would have proved the supreamest of her joyes, if this had beene the last and extrea­mest disease that ever I should be sick of: The babe being wash'd escaped hardly the being smothered by the Kings hugging and kissing it: At the newes of this adored birth-day the night was turned into day, every body stirring abroad, and all the City with lights in all their balcons, and bon­fires in all their streets, though not before that my Physitian (to whom a­lone I would needs give the honour thereof) had with his counterfeite me­dicines cured my counterfeite disease.

Vp risen that I was from childe-bed, my first businesse was to hasten [Page 143] the repudiating of the Queene, and next my wedding not as yet obtained; because wise (though potent) Kings will not at all times doe what they both can and have a desire to doe. They have their owne ends, and yet will give the people satisfaction, and discreetly waite for the opportunity of time to put in execution such things as they are sure cannot please them: Yet well might I upon this occasion have beene married, if the Gods had beene pleased to have permitted my wickednesse to have rested perpetu­ally concealed.

The King had neere his person a great Lord named Gobria, his contem­porary for age, bred up with him from his infancie, and his companion in Armes in all enterprizes. This Lords integrity was never shaken with those infernall blasts, Avarice and Ambition; for the King never gave him so much, as that his liberality gave him way to enrich himselfe there­withall; neither did ever his dignities and favours make him either so proud or discourteous as to neglect to any man any respect due to him. He was naturally a mortall enemy to all corruption, ill-speaking, and ill­speakers, but above all things to dissembling and treason; never saw hee the King incensed against any man, that in an humble and prevailing man­ner he excused him not, so he but thought he deserved it. Or if at any time he seemed to accuse any man, it then was but to second his Prince's nature, which he knew to be more apt to pardon upon confession, than excuse of errours; so as it is not knowne that ever he did any prejudicing office a­gainst any man, but upon great and sound reasons, hee being in all his de­portment more satisfactory and familiar, than indeede befitted either his greatnesse or the statelinesse of the Persian customes. And yet he that ne­ver in his lives time had harmed any body, was neverthelesse the instru­mentall cause of my utter ruine.

My Physitian had infore-speaking the women (as you have heard) made every of them beleeve, that (because he had no children of his owne) he would bestow nursing and breeding on what they should bee delivered of, so it were a boy, so as the first that was delivered, observing how hasty he was to disburthen her of hers, and how that without as much as binding up his navell they had borne him away, with leaving her in his steed a great purse of gold, shee first doubted that it was to make use of him for some ill purpose; seeing that if he had a minde to breede him up, he might well have had the patience to stay till he were weaned; But af­terwards upon better consideration of the businesse, and of him, me, and my being with childe, she conceived the case just as it stood; which though shee liked not very well, yet joyed shee that her sonne should runne the carriere of so great a fortune, keeping in minde a mole shee had taken no­tice of under his left pap: But growne desirous now, (since shee could no more get a sight of him, to know what was become of him) shee went to Court, where renewing her acquaintance with an under-maide-servant that served the Queenes wash-woman, (an ancient acquaintance of hers) shee saw her weepe, the occasion whereof shee understood to be, that by reason of the Queenes being repudiated they should bee all of them tur­ned out of service. For in respect I had brought forth a male childe, the divorce was concluded on for my succeeding her, to the end the heire of the Persian Monarchie might be no bastard. The woman (glad of being [Page 144] so easily assertained of what shee was come thither of purpose to be infor­med of, more desirous (as it should seeme) to have her sonne though poore to be hers, than a King and anothers; or else hoping, that shee should not onely by discovering the truth satisfie her conscience, but also reape there­from both reward and preferment, which in the other state could not (as shee conceived) befall her; for that shee imagined, that shee should never come to be known of her sonne, (and by consequence must have led a dis­contented kinde of life) bethought her selfe of some course of remedying it, and having made meanes to come to speake to Gobria, shee began to count him up the storie, when he penetrating its substance, interrupted her with telling her, that hee would have her speake what shee had to tell him in the Queenes presence, and with that, leaving her in his owne Chamber, with order that shee stirred not thence; he a litle after returning, tooke her along with him to the Queene, where having sent for some of the best and prime personages of the Privy Councell; Gobria in presence and hearing of them all, thus gets out of her the whole businesse.

Good wife (saith he) you were telling me of a certaine passage of busi­nesse, which for some convenient respects I would not then heare out, I pray you therefore come out with it now boldly here before this noble company, who will vouchsafe you a benigne audience.

The woman beginning againe her relation, punctually accounted the importunity of the Physitian, her delivery, the sudden convaying away of the childe, the gift received, and the marke of the mole.

I leave you to thinke whether the Queene were a glad woman or no at these newes. Taking then the woman aside, commending her for her good conscience, and promising her large rewards for her discovery; they fell to consultation of what was best to be done, the harmelesse Queene's shal­low braine furthering it no otherwise than by her teares and supplications: when the no lesse discreete than true-hearted Gobria shewes the rest, that reasons prevailed but litle with lovers, lesse if they were great men, and least of all if Princes. That therefore truth should bee instill'd into the eares of Kings seasonably and by litle drops. Accordingly then their con­sultations were at length reduced to an agreement. That every of them should impart the secret to some trusty friend or other. But a full houres time was scarce expired, when all the Court was full of it; so as penetra­ting to the eares of my Physitian, me, and my retinue, it put us all to our wits end.

The King marveiling to see me so troubled in minde, never left mee till he had drawne me to tell its occasion; and I thinking it would advantage me very much to be the first that should speake of it, set on the bold face to tell him: That the Queenes servants had spread abroad some maligne ru­mours which could not choose but vex mee extreamely, beseeching him to free me thereof speedily, if he desired that I lived. Vpon this he asking me of whom I had understood them, and I telling him that I had heard them of such a one, he found the relations thereof so entangled, as he could not possibly finde out the source thereof; willingly would he have whosh't them up, but that the importance of the businesse permitted him not so to doe, considering the difficulty of the divorce, because of the opinion of the child's being but my supposed sonne. Therefore thought he it necessary [Page 145] to convict thereof the Queene, and punish her, and in such a determination sent for her.

My trouble of mind was in the meane time augmented long of the babe, who seeming to bee at first a goodly well-shap'd childe, was now growne hunch-back'd, by reason of the becomming crooked and shrinking up I know not how of his Cheine-string, a naturall defect (it should seeme) in him that had begot him. Now neither the King nor the rest knew nothing thereof; howbeit it grieved me, that after having (as I conceived) accom­plished my intent, there should yet be added to the summe of the rest this other affliction, hard to evade, if by ill fortune together with the generall relation of the case, this particular of the childs father were also publish­ed. I suddenly sent my Physitian to the mother, who missing her, and hearing that shee was some foure dayes since gone to Court, without being yet returned home, comes running to mee like a man halfe distracted, and hastily rounds me in the eare, that all the affaire was discovered, and wee undone; this said, he slipping suddenly out of my sight, and fetching some monies that he had in store, got on horse-back, and rode away with inten­tion to save himselfe.

The Queene came (in obedience of her Lords command, clad in a lu­gubrous habit with a side-traine) supported under the arme by Gobria him­selfe, and accompanied with most of the Lords of the Councell. A sight that struck the King to the heart more than all the rest; for knowing Gobria to be of a minde so upright, and disposition so well tempered, that passi­ons could not any way sway him. They prostrated themselves all of them at his feete without speaking a word; when seeing the King mute, upon his spirits becomming amazed with the object: The Queene animated with Gobria's friendly support, sighed out these words.

Behold here (Royall Sir) your Majesties most humble hand-maide, who in all humility beseecheth your royall goodnesse to vouchsafe to o­pen unto her the oracle of your Soveraigne will and pleasure; I am come here sent for by your Majesties command, not daring to presume to pre­sent my selfe otherwise before your royall presence. The King somewhat mollified at the sight of those rare (though mortified) beauties, told her, There was broach'd by some of her servants, a most malicious calumny, which was; That the sonne borne him was not his, whereof in case shee prov'd the Authresse, he could doe no lesse than inflict on her some exem­plary punishment, since it concerned together with the interesses of his mother, that of the kingdome, whereunto the babe was borne Prince. And that therefore it behooved her, either to shew her selfe innocent of that calumny, or dye the death. At that word the poore simple Lady sunke downe in a swound, and had therewithall by her so falling hurt her selfe, but for Gobria's sustaining her. The King unable to endure the sight of her, committing her to the charge of her women, leaves the roome, comman­ding his Councell to follow him, out of a desire of hearing their opinions in this case. Gobria thereupon being beckened unto by the others, in a most submissively-humble manner thus bespeakes him.

My Soveraigne Liege, that which your Majesty hath intimated to the Queene might be as well intimated to all of us here present, shee knowing in this no more than we, nor wee no more than shee: Therefore, if what [Page 146] is reported be a calumny, your Majesty shall then have the calumniator at his mercy; but if there be no such matter, then I (under pardon) hope, it were speciall service done to your Majesty, that the truth were manife­sted, and the faulty chastised: Heere he relates him the whole story, and then calling for the woman, made her both confirme the same, and shew him the purse of money given her. Which he (to my ill fortune) finding to bee the very same that hee himselfe had given mee, presently knew it, which was the onely impression of truth in his minde; insomuch, as he that at first had cast an ill eye on Gobria, sent (now that hee saw the passages prove true) in all haste for my Physitian, whom (seeing he could not bee found) he imagined to be fled away; he then sent posts after him, who o­vertooke and reconducted him: But yet calling to minde (for all that) how deerely he had lov'd me, he came unto me (as soone as he was parted from the Councell) and told me, how aggrieved he was in himselfe, that I had so abused and fooled him; whereunto I (supposing he was now too well informed for me to stand either on my owne justification or deniall of the truth) answered, that my fault was but an effect of love: since that for en­joying him solely and securely to my selfe, I had found out this invention, without any intent of harming the Queene, which therefore was both par­donable and excusable. His reply was, that he was sorry to leave and lose me, since it behoved me either to fly or dye: I must confesse to you, that at that word my spirits fainted; yet he as though the last minutes time of our being together stood on the moment of its expiration, with a hasty-gree­dinesse taking me up in his armes, threw mee on my bed without speaking ever a word, where having taken of me his pleasure, he charged me to get me gone that very night: But upon my answering him, that I knew neither how nor whither; he replied, he would give me a guide, wishing mee at no hand to faile to be ready to follow whomsoever should restore mee that Ring; and with that, slipping a Diamond Ring off my finger, away he hyes.

I assoone as my women were laid a-bed (trusting not one of them) cloa­th'd my selfe in mans apparell, when just as I had pack'd up in a fardle all and nought else save my Iewels, I might heare some body knocking gently at my doore, which I no sooner opened, than that a young Gentleman ce­remoniously kissing my Diamond restored it me, with saying, that the King had commanded him to come and serve me; I tooke the Ring, and instant­ly followed him; and then mounted that wee were on Steeds for their speed advantagious, I (having even from my childehood beene bred up, as in many other manly exercises, so in this of riding in particular, which was one of the many linkes that formed the chaine of the Kings love to me) left that Countrey which I once hoped to be Queene of, galloping with in­credible speede that remnant of night without any whit reposing me: so as the ensuing morning with our horses dropping wet with sweate, wee came to a Castle, where (shewing the Kings order signed by his own hand, and under his Privy-seale, requiring that fresh horses should be speedily delivered us) we remounted, continuing thus our changing of horses and riding-poste untill the evening.

I professe to you I never till then found my selfe so weary; yet reposed I that night without any kinde of feare, for being assured by the Gentleman my guide, that the King would not cause me to be sought after, save on the [Page 147] Rode of Asia, under colour that he thought I was fled to Greece. Howbeit that it stood us upon to ride poste, lest any others sent by the Queene hap­pened to light on that way. Hee then likewise tels mee, that the King had commanded him, to conduct me as farre as the Persian creeke, being the narrowest and neerest confine of his Empire, to the end my toyle of riding and danger of being overtaken might the sooner come to an end. 'Twas my good fortune, that before the arrivall of this accident, the King had oc­casion to come (for some important affaire of his) to Perselope, a place di­stant from the sea, litle more than tenne dayes journeyes of such as wee made; since if I had taken the direct way to Greece, I must then (after I had gotten out of Persia) have crossed Assyria and Armenia, ferried over the Euphrates, foorded the Antitauro, and measured in its full length all Asia minor o're, ere I could have arrived to either Eolide or Ionia: which to doe, a whole moneths time (alas) had not beene enough for a poste to run without any intermission. Againe, if I had gone to Susa, I then (neither) had no other than the selfe-same way, unlesle I would assoone as I was en­tred into Media have furrowed the Ircanian Sea, and thence passed the Caucasus, Iberia, and Colchis, re-embarked me on the Eusin, and so stricken homewards over the Bosphorus and Obelespont, with many dangers, these wayes being yet more pestred with Scythians, than those other with Ara­bians. But when I saw my selfe in the middest of the Persian Gulfe, I then (and not till then) thought my selfe indifferently secure, but much more, at my arrivall in Arabia; where I soone regained my wonted vigor, nature, and customes: And thinking then no more on the Persian King, who had (as I by that time pretended) against all right and reason put me to shift for my selfe, I being (as it is an ordinary thing in women of my humour and quality) more excelling in that of ingratitude than in all other vices, fix'd my eyes on the Gentleman my conduct: whom for all his being as modest again as trusty, I at length corrupted, it being too difficult for him in respect of his too raw yeares, to escape the being ensnared by me.

During all the time of my abode in Persia, ambition had made me pati­ent of the Kings cold embracements, (he good man being of fifty yeares of age if not upwards, without thinking of others) but now freed of that affect, I returned to my ordinary and former contents: Now my loves were ever in their ingresse very vehement, and full of jealousies and vexa­tions of spirit, which made those I loved beleeve, that I could not turne my affection to others; wherein they were much deceived, nay the selfe-same in the end beguiled me too. For, come to Memphi (rich with what I brought with me, but farre richer for what the Gentleman presented me withall from the King in Iewels of an inestimable value) wee forgetting our journey, staid thereto enjoy each other in that City in the hight of luxury and lasciviousnesse, without wanting any thing requisite to the ful­nesse of our contents; for satisfying whereof we every day sought out for new devices and inventions. Here by the newes that flew from one Court to another understood wee my owne story; and that my Physitian was found, and in the ground buried alive up to the throate, and that being ex­posed to the sunne and flies with his face all-to-be smeared over with ho­ney, he in that manner miserably died. That the King having by my own servants understood my passed life, (ashamed for having suffered himselfe [Page 148] to bee so grossely beguiled, but much more of having so lov'd mee) had commanded Farnabazzo to take from me the Iland; and in case he found me not to be hang'd, to take and hang up my Father for mee; which (with other newes wee a little after heard) was executed: whereupon I suspe­cting that disloyalty in others which I knew to be in my selfe, bethought my selfe how to ridde me of Ariobarzane (for such was the Gentlemans name) fore-thinking, that upon my rejecting him (as I was already taken with a new love) it was likely he would requite me with the like or as great a discourtesie; especially considering he had lost his Prince's favour, and forsaken his Countrey, fortunes, meanes, and all for love of me.

This Gentleman having beene borne and brought up in Court, knew not how to leade any other than a Courtly life and conversation. Where­upon in often-frequenting it hee got acquaintance enough to draw on him by my meanes his utter ruine. Hee gave himselfe out to be of Susiana, lest his professing to be (as hee was) a Persian, and my being with him might make us knowne for what we were, for better concealing whereof, hee alwayes call'd me wife, and I him husband. Wee gave out, that we were come to passe to the Oracle of Iupiter Ammon, and that the reason of our sojourne there, was but to stay for the season of the yeare. Hee often brought along to dine with him a valiant and proper young Gentleman call'd Ersemeo, one favoured of the King, and highly esteemed of all that knew him; his qualities conforming with those of my now supposed hus­band, especially in suffering himselfe to be corrupted by me, as the other had beene before. Ariobarzane was no whit jealous, but loving both his friend and his company, favoured him with such liberty, as he would many times, when he found him not at home, entertaine himselfe with mee, to stay for his comming. I that lived by (or at least lov'd best) often change, grew soone to bee amorously enflamed of him, and found wayes to let him see it too: But he, though he well enough conceived it, being honest though, and loyall to his friend, either did not, or would not understand me in the right construction of my intent. Strange seemed it unto me, that he being a young Gentleman, an Egyptian, and a Courtier too, should (or could) be so continent; and therefore because I durst not in plaine termes unbosome my selfe unto him, for doubt of either his not consenting, or bewraying me, I bethought of a way of making him entrap himselfe thus.

I would take on me (if it were in the fore-noone that he came) to begin to goe dresse my selfe, and would, at the instant of his comming in, be sure to be unsmockt, letting him see my brest and paps in their lively colours and true proportions, able to change both proportion and colour in Sa­turne himselfe. If in the after-noone, I then would be putting on my stoc­kings or shoes, the border of my coates and smock-hem being the while lifted up so high, that though I with making a shew of being surprized, would with a counterfeite bashfulnesse clap them downe, yet did I not so before he had seene and conceiv'd enough to make him languish with an amorous desire. In the sweltry hot noone-tides, I would be little better than naked, bare-foote and bare-legg'd, naked-breasted, with an excee­ding fine and sight-penetrable Camrick smocke, lasciviously discovering what it not hid but vailed. From the waste downewards, I wore a Kirtle of slight cob-web laune, from under which appeared two relevated flanks, [Page 149] accompanied with those parts which had (as they should) their proportio­nable risings. Nature having given mee a body that needed not the com­mon helpes of rectifying its proportion, by bombace or the like: And for my haire I wore it dishevelled in a carelesse fashion, without either haire lace or crisping-wyre.

At these taking-objects the poore Ersemeo freez'd and burnt at one and the same time; whilst Ariobarzane glorying in my beauty, thought him­selfe happy meerely out of the conceite hee had that other men did for it esteeme him such: young mens felicity being thought to consist more in other mens opinions than in its proper substance. Such as say that naughty women bewitch men, are not otherwise mistaken than in the manner, for the bodies are wasted away by such things as can naturally weare away or consume them, but the Will onely feares the Magick of an advantageous beauty, endowed with craft, and enriched with taking qualities.

After that the poore Gentleman had layen a long time tormented with the flames of an intollerable passion, and that friendship was forced to give place to concupiscence, he ventured to proclaime himselfe (in a silent way) my to-death-enamoured servant, but yet with such faire termes, as I could not without proving too-too discourteous make any shew of being in the least manner therewith displeased. So as at our next meeting we conclu­ded on the time and place, where we were to enjoy each other; I being for my owne part in such affaires a mortall enemy of irresolutions. Ariobar­zane soone spies out our false play, and so indeed desired I he should. Ne­ver was there snake or serpent wrythen up so suddenly as hee; hee grew pale, leane, and hoarse, and all in an instant, there was not a member of his that wasted and pined not away, onely his bigge-swollen eyes flowed with the streames of a perpetuall river of brinish teares. I could have found in my heart to have pittied him, but that cruelty is the first oath ta­ken by an infamous woman; the worst for him was, that he (unfortunate Gentleman) knew not with what lookes to eye me, or what words to be­moane himselfe, sithence to get him gone lay no more now within the power of his free-will, despaire and injury not having as yet loosed him from my fetters: Which admit I had, alas! where or whither could hee have gone? To Persia he durst not, his conscience accusing him, and his long sojourne convicting him before his Prince to have beene entangled in my love. And againe, else-where he had not wherwithall to live, for not having carried with him more than was necessary to defray the charge of his returne: Yet could I not (for all that) hold from asking him the cause of his melancholy; whereupon he re-assuming an hearty courage, spake to me in passionate angry tearmes, thinking thereby to terrifie me; I (that desired nothing more) omitted not the opportunity of such an occasion, but told him, that his suspitions were maligne & false, that I had done him too much favour and honour, in daigning to love him, and that I was now right sorry I had not knowne him sooner; that if I could recall what was past I would most willingly doe so; since insteed of acknowledging mee the obligations he owed me, he was become so ingratefully insolent, as to threaten me; and that but for the regard of my honour, I would make his suspitions prove true, were it but meerely to spite him: Not forgetting to stand up on my points of being a Princesse, and therefore priviledged to [Page 150] walke in the faire field of my content, without being countermanded by any man: replying a thousand times the selfe-same words, to vex him the more. Whereupon he, being of a generous spirit, and of as noble a pro­geny as most in Persia, having first craved mee humble pardon, kneeled downe before me, begging of me with teares and conjurations to grant it him; but seeing all nothing availe him, he suddenly starts up all-enflamed with choller, and reviles me with the basest injurious tearmes that could be given the arrantest common strumpet of the Vniverse, concluding them with spitting in my face, and fretting, that he could not in respect of my being a woman take a more ample revenge on me.

I know not whether by then my disdaine were not greater than his jea­lousie at first, which if it were not, yet sure it could not be lesse: In the end away hee went, without making any outward shew of being any whit grieved, to the end that despite and madnesse might touch me neerer the quick. No sooner was his backe turn'd, than in came Ersemeo. I will not stand a particularizing on this businesse any longer, seeing that I have al­ready but too much encroached upon your noble patience. Briefly then; I, having informed him of those passages, and how that Ariobarzane was not my husband; and withall that he now was gone a-reviling and threat­ning of him (which, God wot, was nothing so) he parted from me for the last time, and found the other at Court whither he was gone expressely to seeke him out, thence with a joint consent they went where they had pointed field, which was a litle without the City walls, where with single sword-fight they ended their quarrell, by dying both of them in the place; which assoone as I heard of, I in this hight of my cruelty clothed my coun­tenance with a griefe-expressing compassion, in a solemne mourning weed, celebrating the funerall of Artobarzane my reputed husband. Where I both allured and entrapped a thousand silly young Gentlemen, not sparing to favour the desires of such of them as best liked my fancie; finding change more pleasing to mee, than diversity of choyce cates to an Epicu­rean pallate: But such was my luck, that growne to bee at length enamou­red in good earnest, I was misused and impoverished by a young spend­thrift of two and twenty yeares of age. From whom as I thought to with­draw mee (his prodigality lavishing my goods, menacing my utter undo­ing:) I was by him (under colour of walking to solace us) conducted all alone to see the Pyramides, where hee left mee in the manner I was found by your Lord and you Carasio; with an intention (I beleeve) to rifle my house, and seize on the few Iewels hee had left mee unlavished. And this was the reason that made mee slip away from you, for doubt of comming too late to prevent him. But I by the way fell into the hands of those A­rabians, whence yee of your noble goodnesse have freed mee, humbly beseeching you, that as yee had that compassion of mee that I deserve not, so you would be benignely pleased to permit mee to goe on constantly in my determination; which is to goe and end the remnant of my dayes a­mong those who retired from the world, are devoted to the service of Am­mons Temple.

Such was the womans storie, diversly affected by those that heard her. When upon Lindaaori's returning her no word of answer, (shee having listned unto her all the while, shee was relating it with a more than passio­nate [Page 151] disdaine, that for not discovering her sex, shee must have heard her out) Coralbo told her, that the Gods called sinners divers wayes; and that therefore repentance (so it were unfained) absolved the delinquent, and assured him of his calling. But come by this time to their Inne, they resolved to rest there that night, and to follow the trace of their company the ensuing morning.

Cavalier Gio. Francesco Biondi DONZELLA DESTERRADA. THE THIRD BOOKE.

THe Count of Bona provided himselfe in Feacia of a both strongly-mann'd and well-rig'd frigat, for having her arme d and prepared aswell for becalming as blustering weather; the tediousnesse of the voyage being shortened by the noble conversation of Don Eleimos, who voluntarily accompa­nied him out of the longing desire he had of becomming acquainted with Prince Polimero, whose vertues were the sole attractive motives that drew him on so long a journey. Steerd on they had neere the Taenarian Promon­tory in the Messanian Gulfe, when they descried a Galley, which (as if shee had beene hurried onwards by the impetuosity of a tearing gale of winde) came scowring after them in the great calme of a scortching sum­mer-noone-tide. But losing sight of her by their fetching about the Pro­montory, they might within two houres after see her doe the like, and then soone after gaine so neere them, as the eye might distinctly see all her pro­portion and gallantry; though that (excepting the men and fresh lively colours of vermilion and azure) nought else could be seene save most cu­rious carved and graven worke of Ebony and Yvory, most richly adorned with silke and gold; the eares being (the meane while) entertained with the sweetly-shrill musick of many trumpets, halfe drown'd with the harsh antique consort of Fifes and Drumslads. By that time shee was got within a mile of them, they might perceive her stow up her Oares, (the force of her late stiffe rowing maintaining yet her course) and then might they be­hold seated in her rich Poope adorned with waving streamers, a Lady and two Knights, all of them of a gentile aspect, neere about the same age, but of different complexions. The one was extraordinarily comely, with such a complexion, as the Sunne is sometime wont (out of envy) to dye browne with its scortching beames; the other went pompously triumphant with such beauties as Aurora takes oft-times pleasure, in first frosting over with her canded dewes, and then painting with her more lively colours the Rheineberry or full-ripe Cherry; the third not ceding to the other two in blithsome livelihood and feature of body, came (for all that) short of them in the rest, Nature seeming to be desirous by such variety to put the diversity of her gifts in consideration.

By this time the two Knights might well perceive, that the Galley [Page 154] fetch'd them up either to know or haile them; and observing the reverence wherewith a number of gallant Gentlemen stood before the three, they ghessed them to be personages worthy of their respective observance; sa­luting them therefore with tearmes reserved for great ones, they were cor­responded (though in a majestick grave manner) with equall courtesie. The browne Knight was the first that in a courteous language asked them whence they came; to whom the Count answering, from Sardinia, hee praid him to tell him, whether he had (as he touched Parthenope) heard any thing of the Princesse Corianna; but being told by the other that he stroke not in there; hee then enquired of him touching Polimero and Eromena, whereunto the Count so fram'd his answer, that relating him the truth, and satisfying him in all the particulars of his demand, hee made no mention either of himselfe or of the occasion of his voyage, save only telling him, that they were bound for Athens. But the three desirous to entertaine them yet longer, and to be instructed in the affaires of the West, (with offe­ring them the towing of their frigat) besought them to come a-boord their Galley, since they were to runne the same course till they came to the mouth of the Egean Sea: Whereunto they (not knowing well how to say nay) agreed to get up a-boord her, understanding of those that on the lad­der received them, that one of the three was the Prince of Pontus, and the other that of Cyprus with his Wife.

The two Knights therefore humbled themselves before them, and then after fell to such discourse as best liked them; till such time as come a pretty distance from the Meltacan Promontory, and about to take leave of them, they might descrie on the Iland of Cithera a great smoake, and soone afterwards six Galleyes, which launching from out the Promontory, came with maine force of Oares a scouring towards them. Which seene by the Princes, they suddenly armed themselves, commanding (the meane while) their Top-armings and Battlements to be pitched, and their Standart of warre to be marborated; faine would they have licensed the two Knights; but they on the contrary, having caused the Frigat to bee loosed off the Galley, and commanded their Marriners to retire her apart, protested they would by no meanes abandon the Galley in such an ayde-requiring occa­sion. The Princesse no whit dismaide (having first gathered up her coates) armed her selfe with Guirasse and Helmet, and then girding her with her Sword, shee having commanded a Bow to be made ready for her, made choyce of the Castle of the Poope for her place of standing, with an in­tention to defend it her selfe alone; till the Count and Don Elermos begg'd of her the favour of being received as Guardians of her person, which up­pon her accepting of, shee told them, that such a favour was not worthy the being required with so great an hazard, and that shee was very sorry for having taken them out of their Shallop, wherein they were not like to light on so dangerous an encounter: Vpon these complements, the Prin­ces (who had been giving order for the defence) returned with an undaun­ted resolution rather to dye than yeeld; and seeing the valorous Princesse so clad in glittering Armour, they earnestly be sought her to retire her self, which shee would not by any meanes condiscend unto; though some from the Maine-top shreeked out, that the Galleyes were of Thrace. The Prin­ces had betweene Souldiers and Knights litle lesse than foure hundred [Page 155] fighting-men, the Galley of three and thirty banks, being capable of re­ceiving them all; besides, the Galley-slaves being well provided with stones and slings, the Crossebow-men with all kinde of shafts and shot, and the Poope and Prow well furnished with Bowes and Pikes.

All things requisite for their defence being in judicious order disposed of, they might see the enemies separate one single Galley steering directly towards that of the Princes, the others reduced into two wings, that so she might bee at one and the same time assayl'd at her Poope, and both her sides. At their first disuniting they formed the figure of a halfe moone, a litle Frigat appearing in its concave rowing before the rest of the Fleete, they holding water to give her time to passe before them. Come neere that shee was, there appeares in her an Herald, who with his head cove­red over with a vaile, accoasting the sterne of the Galley with a loude and fearefull voyce cries out:

Give eare to mee thou great God of Warre, hearken to me thou Ionian Cretan, and Egean Neptune: Beare me witnesse yee Cithera and Epla, yee Stronds of Laconta and Eurota, and listen to mee thou Astrea. I am publick Herald of Prince Erpandro of Phrace, and come sent both piously and justly. Melianto Prince of Cyprus hath against all reason taken, stolne away, and in Himeneus owne presence ravished the great Princesse Deodora of Illirio destinated Spouse to the most noble Prince Erpandro my Lord and Master. By which act of his, he hath violated the bonds of hospitality, extinguished anothers funerall-tapers, and dishonoured a Virgin in con­tempt of all both divine and humane Lawes. Of thee therefore, I say of thee Melianto is required that thee not-befitting prey, over thee is immi­nent a thee-befitting punishment, and against thee is denounced blood, warre, and death. Melianto was about to answer him, when Deadora pray­ing him to bee pleased to leave that office to her, with a bold voyce and firme resolution returned him this answer.

Herald, goe and tell Erpandro; that Deodora of Illirio was never any Spouse of his, that the agreement of Fathers forme not marriages, without the consent of children, that by the priviledge therefore both of Law and Nature she is wife to no other than Melianto, with whom shee volun­tarily parted not for doing, but for not receiving injury: that the Gods will prove favourers of his just actions, and not punishers of those preten­ded faults which Erpandro falsely layes to his charge. And as for his threats, tell him that Melianto hath a sword so keene and well tempered, that it will neither turne edge nor wax blunt, though hee made use of it a­gainst six times as many: that that other dastardly Prince durst not have in any other manner affronted him, knowing his inferiority to him in Armes, which hee unknightlike endeavours to supply no lesse injuriously than basely with the oddes of men and Armes; yet let him assure himselfe (spake shee on) that he hath yet one enemy more than hee ever yet made account of; and that's I, who ere he shall be his death (as he threatneth to be) will kill him my selfe with my owne hands; which if (through fortunes disfavouring) it succeede mee not, yet shall I not faile howsoever either to take him prisoner, or dye in the attempt. And you (said then the Herald, not knowing the Princesse in that habit) that make such an answer for Melianto, who are you to have authority so to speake? I am (answered [Page 156] him shee) Deadora, which sithence thou now know'st, and hast heard and spoken enough, returne whence thou camest, and that quickly too.

The Herald throwing towards the Galley a bloodied Dart, bidding his Oare-men strike amaine, returned crying, oh Iupiter, oh Mars, oh Bellona, yee Gods all of Heaven, Earth, and Hell listen and heare: Let Melianto, an unjust Prince, unreasonable, a ravisher, a violator of quiet and the Law, be this day chastised and corrected by you. Come to his Lord, he relates unto him both the Princesse's answer, and the habit he saw her in; where­at he was like to swound for griefe, conceiving, that if shee were (as shee professed to be) married, he had then no reason to pretend right in her any more; but examining that such considerations were secret, and there­fore could not satisfie the world; whereas the rape was a publickly de­clared injury, he thought he could not (without prejudice to his reputati­on) abstaine from revenge. Therefore hee boorded the enemy a-prow, causing him to be at the selfe-same time boorded on both the Starbur and Larbur-sides, and last of all a-poope by other five with a mighty force. The assaulted ship bravely received the shock of the foure that ran at her sides, the poope being assured from being endangered by the beake of that Galley which came to offend it, with many straw-mats that were hung downe round about it, which also served for a parapet to such as defen­ded it.

The quantity of slaine-men almost equalized the number of the ar­rowes shot in the first assault; for the Thracians (having parted from out their Countrey in Vessels fitter for pompous shew than for fight) had not wherewithall to shelter them from the showre of shotte, imagining that in respect of their number, they should not (in case they were necessitated to fight) encounter other difficulty than boording their Enemies Galley; so as there flew not an arrow from out the assayled Galley that either slew or wounded not; whereas her men on the contrary were so well covered, as they could hardly be any way offended: The easiest places of mounting a-boord her was her prow and poope, her sides being defended aswell by her owne as her Enemies Battlements, and close-fights: Besides, if any one endeavoured to clime up that way, 'tweare of the two more likely hee should fall lower than get higher; the Prince of Pontus having taken on him the care and charge of keeping the Enemy at distance off that part.

The Prince of Cyprus standing arm'd on the prow, received the Ene­mies shock with a greater countershock, charging him with the full force of all his Oares; The stemmes burst both alike, but with an unlike effect, that alone being all the prejudice he received; whereas Erpandro deprived of the plankes (that being laide athwart the prow sustained his comba­tants) lost by that wrack forty of his company betweene Knights and Galley-slaves, whereof the greater part were by the weight of the timber, and suddaine falling of them one a-top of another either maymed or wounded, he being thereat runne thither himselfe to defend the entrance, or to speake more properly, to issue out through it, thinking that he had by reason of his great advantages the victory cock sure in his owne hands.

Deadora hearing the terrible crash of their encounter, and knowing the Enemies could not without great difficulty mount up the poope, (for its being bravely defended by the Count and Don Eleimos, seconded by o­thers [Page 157] of their owne company) hastily shifted off her gowne, and then ar­ming her selfe at all peics, ranne to the prore, where forcing Melianto to cede her the place, shee put herselfe before him; up shee gets on the beake head with an halfe pike in her hand, the Archers playing (the meane while) their parts from above, thence shee leapes over into the Enemies Galley, followed by Melianto, who was vexed at the heart for this her over-rash boldnesse. 'Twas her good luck, that the disorderly falling downe of the plankes and timber-workes disordered the Defendants, so as they could neither re-unite themselves, nor stand to their ground without treading on such as had beene beaten downe, who lying senselesse along and athwart the Decks and Hatches, became a ruinous impediment, otherwise shee had done enough, if (after making a proffer of her courage) shee could have but fairely retired without being wet, considering how the Enemies Galley was mann'd with the hardiest and choysest Knights of all Thrace. But fortune over furthers a bold resolution; for, forcing her passage onwards, shee was followed by fifty resolute Gentlemen, the greater part whereof abandoning their pikes, conformable to the necessity of their enterprise, laide about them with their swords, with such an undaunted resolution for gaining the Vessell, as amazed the Thracians.

Deadora knowing Erpandro first among the foremost, furiously flew at him, and after many maine active blowes received and given, seeing him yet unwounded, shee gransh'd her teeth for meere rage of anger; Now she had one of the best mettled and tempered blades that ever was forged or wrought, Vulcan himselfe never made the like; it was formed hooked­wise, of an edge somewhat thick, and neere three fingers broad; it would cut an arm'd arme in two, but with a blow fetch'd by such an arme as hers, which made her wonder, that neither her blade nor arme wrought now their wonted effects.

Erpandro was a stout Knight, tutered in a good Schoole of Armes, and armed as advantagiously as could be; since there was not a juyce-affor­ding herbe, whose vertue the Artificer made not use of in tempering the Armour he was clad in, onely he was ill-provided of a Sword; for in war­ding of a blow, the one halfe thereof burst off and dropp'd at his feete, whereby his sword-arme lay open and wounded. Vpon this the Princesse was assaulted by such as were neerest her, but by wounding three of them in an instant, shee freed her selfe from out that streight. And now seeing the valiant Melianto fiercely lay about him to guard her, shee goes to single out Erpandro, who with a new sword made towards her to revenge him­selfe of her; They aymed both of them at the selfe-same time at each others head, their blades fortuning to meete edge to edge with the selfe-same successe, onely that of Deadora lighted more dangerously on the E­nemies helmet, without any apparantly wide gash, but yet with so terri­bly-smart a stroake, that piercing his skull, made him fall at her feete, shee therewithall defending her selfe from such as endeavoured to recover him with such a furious dexterity, that even those of her owne side stood in feare of her blowes: here after Erpandro's being suddenly put over priso­ner, shee with Melianto retired themselves, giving order to the rest of her traine to doe the same, which accordingly was without any disorder per­formed with the pikes in the reare-ward, and the Archers continuing their [Page 158] shot, it sufficing them to keepe their owne, since the acquiring of what was other mens in such a disparity could not but redound to their prejudice, in respect it could not be done without their dismembring themselves.

The conflict lasted well nigh two houres, their Galley not being fought now withall a-poope and at her sides, save a-farre off, the example of one Galley set on fire by a pot-full of an infernall unquenshable composition, deterring the rest from attempting the boording the enemy, insomuch as they were forced to retire them, to save such as threw themselves into the sea to escape the devouring fury of the inextinguishable wilde-fire; and had indeede retired themselves for good and all, if the Admiralls fighting men resolved now to dye, had not for the losse of their Prince obstinately continued the fight; whereupon the rest of the Fleete, having recovered as many as they could, returned to fight, mounting up the Admirall a-sterne, to re-man her, whose men to the two third parts and more lay slain; and taken too shee had beene, if Melianto had but so resolved; who thin­king it victory enough to have (without losing many of his men) gotten the Enemy into his hands, caused to be throwne out a certaine fired liquor, which was no sooner shed abroad, than that with a whizzing murmure it fired whatsoever it lighted on; suddenly spreading it selfe, and furiously enflaming the matter it fed on, unquenchable either by water or heapes of wet rugges; so as it soone set all the Galley a-fire maugre all that endea­voured to save her, the others having enough to doe to save the men, whom they transported with all the speed they could; But Melianto not caring for them, held on his way, the fight being ended by the Princesse's valour, and fires violence. Of all his men there were slaine but three Knights, and those too in boording the Enemies Galley, in attempting whereof one of them was tumbled downe into the sea, and there drowned. The wounded were many, among whom were the Count and Don Eleimos both of them with arrowes, whose wounds were more troublesome though than dan­gerous; they had fought sometimes so neere as that they came to push of pike, and had burnt this third Galley too, had shee not after the example of the others timely retired her selfe, so as the maligne liquor falling, stin­ted not burning in the water till it was quite consumed.

The Princesse that had observed the valour of the two Knights, rendred them infinite thankes; the Prince loath to cede to her in gratitude, was carefull to see their wounds speedily drest, with an intention to take them along with him; but they being bound for else-where, praid him to hold them excused; and with that making signes to the Barke, which then rode neere the Strond of Peloponesus would needs part much against the will of the three, who could not perswade them to accept (at their parting) two Iewels as a slender token of their affection: Onely they promised to come and see them as they passed by Cyprus. Faine would Melianto have enjoy'd their company at his going to visit Erpander; but the Count fearing lest his voyage (being much hindered already by reason of the fight) should be yet more delayed by occasion of this other businesse excused himselfe (assoone as they were come where they were to steere a different course) by assuring him, that the urgencie of his occasion would by no meanes permit him to make any longer stay.

Gotten aboord their Frigat they coasted Laconia, where because of a [Page 159] feaver that seized on the Count, and afterwards on Den Eleimos, by occa­sion of their wounds they were forced to stop their journey; their disease so augmenting its violence and enfeebling their forces, as they could not part thence for a whole moneths time; their Frigat also being already for that respect licenced and return'd backe; so as when they arrived at A­thens they found to have beene there the Princesse Eromena with her daughter, who were gone for Egypt foure or five dayes before, to the Count's such exceeding sorrow and trouble of minde as his tormented thoughts could take no rest, conceiving that hee justly now incurr'd the censure of a negligent messenger, for having so lingred in his voyage ten­ding to an affaire so important; now therefore he staid not an houre, but boording a good Vessell parted with his companion, forced by the windes violence to coast Creete, and then passing from the Capartian sea to that of Cyprus they were constrained to goe a-shore in that Ile, where they under­stood of the arrivall of Melianto with Deadora, and how Erpandro affectio­nately honoured of all, was to be the hand-joyner of the wedding couple, without knowing any other particular in that behalfe.

Come to Egypt, they went to Memphi with intention, in case they found not Polimero, to stay for him there, being directed to a Merchant, whom he was of necessity to have recourse unto; but hearing no newes there of him, much lesse of the Princesse, he remain'd thereat exceedingly confu­sed in minde; since being parted from Athens so long before him, they should (by all probable conjecture) have beene there before his comming, and addressed themselves (for further intelligence) to the very same place: But this his anxiety of minde lasted but a little, for he no sooner went to Court, than hee there found them come the day before, though without Lindadori; whereat the good old man was so exceedingly joyed, that (but for their preventing him) hee had kneeled to kisse their hands, with sud­denly asking for Donzella Desterrada his Lady and Princesse, whom (as they stood relating the accidendall cause of their separation) they might see enter accompanied with Coralbo; her Mother presently taking her by the hand, and receiving Coralbo with the affects of a respective esteeme, (having already understood by her husband the story of his disasters) and then (for being left to themselves) they retired them altogether thence to their lodging, with a longing desire to be enformed reciprocally of each others adventures, where the Count was for his necessitated tardance ex­cused, and Don Eleimos affectionately respected of all of them, but more especially of Eromena, for her extraordinary affection to Eleina, of whom he had well deserved. They resolved to entertaine themselves there three or foure dayes, to see that great Court, and then to part suddenly out of the impatient longing they had to returne into Sardinia.

The Court of Egypt was (at that time) one of the most flourishing of the Vniverse, frequented by brave and doughty Knights, drawne thither formerly by the lasting and victorious enterprizes of King Ptsemitide, and at the present by his liberality, and by the free carriage and beauty of the Ladies of that Court. Never was there Prince that joyned greatnesse with familiarity, or familiarity with gravity better than hee; the meere ordinary Guard of his body formed a sufficient Army; he had five severall orders of Souldiers, and among them three of Nobility and Gentry: the [Page 160] first composed of foure fallanges of Knights and Gentlemens younger sonnes, the first-borne in Egypt as in many other kingdomes, bearing away the whole faculty. Heere, as in Academy, in the most tranquill and calme peace, was exercised Martiall discipline with as strict order and rigorous observance, as others use in the ardor of the most dangerous warre. They were constantly remov'd and changed every three moneths; the novices of them being usually spread over the neighbouring Garrisons, and the other three Regiments in Memphi warding the City and Pallace royall: From this Seminary sprung Captaines, Camp-masters, and sometimes even Generalls themselves. Of the other foure, two were Knights, the one of the new and the other of the old Band, who gloried to have re­commended to their loyaltie in peace, & valour in warre, the sacred person of their Royall Soveraigne. The fourth of Halberdiers clad with the Royall device, and so many in number as reached divided into two files on either hand along the staires, and all the way from the grand portall to the great Hall. The last of Light-horse-men covered with coates, enri­ched with Embroyderies of a colour and forme suitable.

Through these Guards was the way to the Kings withdrawing Cham­ber, and thence into a Gallery a quarter of a mile long, of a breadth and hight proportionable, with its lights towards the Nile, adorned betwene its stately balcons with lively pictures of the most noble and fairest Cities of the world. Heere entertained himselfe the King throng'd with a great concourse of ennobled Cavaliers, insomuch as it was (many times) hard to know which of them was the King; the Egyptian Nobility might easily be discerned from the rest by the pompe and curious inventions of their habits, delighting more in the sight of their Prince, than doth the Eagle in beholding the Sunne; never was the Court seen so solitary, that it had attending it lesse than three thousand Nobles and Gentlemen, sumptuously apparalled and compleatly equipaged. The Queenes side (on the other part) being no lesse numerous and frequented, her Chamber of presence never empty, to Cavaliers and Ladies never shut, so as the whispering noyse of so many softly-speaking tongues might bee aptly resembled to that humming the Bees make in their Hives at such time as they are most busied in working of their Honey.

Ptsemitides was growne all hoary, but yet in full vigor with lively spirits and an indefessible able body; and withall though match'd with the fai­rest wife that that part of the world could afford him, yet was hee almost continually employed in some new love or other; his Queene being reser­ved meerely for use of childe-bearing, and for that cause beloved. That Court then was (in respect both of it selfe and the nature of its Prince) the most joyfull and amorous of as many as ever were; many sonnes had hee, but by wedlock onely the Prince then a babe, and one daughter, whose towardly nature and sweete disposition was not equalled by any in that great Monarchie. Shee passed not much fifteene years of age, yet had shee an aged-seeming (because well experimented) spirit in the more worthy perfections, sucked almost with her brest-milke by perpetuall conversation of refined wits, and her onely delight of various reading, wherein she consumed her houres with a gust that exceeded her age & sex.

Polimero and Eromena had already seene the King, but so had not Lin­dadori [Page 161] nor Coralbo, who comming likewise to see him, were met by the others, and so left the Court to be private together, as was told you. There dwelt neere to their lodging an ancient Knight, who observing the two couple, (that though unknowne, manifested yet their greatnesse by their exterior qualities) would needs (courteous as he was) goe visit them; con­ceiving that their being strangers obliged him thereunto; for his quality, he was a great Souldier, favoured by the King for his valour, and therefore highly esteemed of all the Court; and understanding that they knew no body, he would needs present them before the King, who received them without any distinction, taking them all for Knights, observantly eying (though) their youth and beauty, whereof hee saw no paragon in all the Court: Hee stood discoursing with them in Greeke for a good while, and (as one quick-sighted in discerning of persons) suddenly judged the foure younger to be of no ordinary quality; which made him very desirous that the Queene might see them; nay more, he would needs bring them in himselfe, an unwonted favour done to none save Princes; and so taking Po­limero by the hand, hee drew all the rest after him, those Lodgings being so full, that two could hardly passe a-brest through them.

The Queene was seated at her beds-feete with her daughter by her side, accompanied with foure Princesses of the Blood-royall, encircled with many Lords standing about them; when Eromena presented her selfe be­fore her, Polimero dexterously drawing back to give her the honour of pre­cedencie. They were by her received all of them with royall courtesie, Elitrea the Princesse following her example in honouring them, but ex­ceeding it with Lindadori. Shee liked well those like-her-owne tender in­nocent beauties, and a well-becomming carelesse carriage of hers, which made her so heede her, that superficially passing over the rest, shee taking her for a Knight, desired to entertaine her alone, whilest the Queene en­terchanged complementall courtesies with Eromena, with the very same both beliefe and affection.

The King (after having jeasted a short while with some of the Ladies) retir'd him thence, and the two indeede Knights, (observing the Queene and Princesse their prodigious inclination towards the two maskers) with­drew themselves apart, as it were, for good manners sake with the foure Princesses of the blood, who received them with exceeding great courtesie.

Eromena upon discovering of the Queenes minde, knew not well what countenance to frame; shee answered to the demands shee made her with that extraodinary grace, which the Heavens had with extraordinary pri­viledge granted her above all other women. Lindadori being simple, and in such affaires a novice, (not building on others fancies, but altogether in­tent about the well-representing of a mans person) marveiled at the cu­stomes and carriage of the young Princesse; in whom besides a more than ordinary courtesie, shee observed a more than usuall freenesse and else-where-unknowne liberty, gravity in that Countrey being reputed an im­perfection or defect, or at least taken for a dependant if not a sister of sul­lennesse, pride, and subjection. The presence of so great a Queene, which else-where would have clos'd up all lips with silence, and engraven in all hearts a modest mellancholy, was here a motive to apparant joy and dis­course. [Page 162] Benigne Mercury diffusing himselfe in their mouthes, and shew­ing himselfe heere as prodigall as else-where sparing, and withall sending where hee was not himselfe some of his false ministers with his winged shooes, and rode to bee taken for him and his impes, though indeede they were nothing such.

Returned to their lodging, there was no small adoe to imprint the plea­santnesse of their conceits in Lindadori, who held it ill to nourish under a counterfeit habit the fiery thoughts of an harmelesse Girle, so ignorant and unexperimented in all wylinesse and cunning artifice in her demeanour as to discover her love, not onely to the more apprehensive, but even to her in that behalfe dimme-sighted eyes; whereof shee making her moane to her mother, canestly besought her to bring her no more thither, whilst her father and Coralbo could not refraine from laughing at both the occa­sion of her dislike, and her manner of expressing it; yet at length shee was (though with much adoe) pacified, by being enformed, that the Nobility and Gentry of that Countrey were wont (though indeede they were farre otherwise enclined) to take on them to bee ever in love, onely for good manners sake; because not knowing how otherwise to entertaine or court Ladies, they had recourse to the Articles of Love; being assured, they could not be better pleased, than to see deserving men so deceived, as to beleeve and stile them beautifull, though they were nothing so.

The two Princesses that with others had entertain'd in discourse the two Princes, (whereof the one was of Bernice, and the other of Cirene) re­main'd beyond measure taken with their noble carriage, upon considerate observation of their merits, and passing liking they had to a certaine cold reservednesse, by them judged to be an enemy to presumption and daugh­ter to respect, onely to Eromena this complementally-amorous way of courting was nothing pleasing, who though happy in a husband worthy of other womens loves, was yet unhappy long of that passion of love, which (by a cold name contrary to its fervide effects) the vulgar call Iealousie, which shee had long before victoriously fought withall; and at length more by the confidence of her owne merits, than with any force of her na­turall inclination; being assured, that he might well enjoy, but not possi­bly love other women than her: which (betweene jest and earnest) shee had many times told him: And now considering her being past the faire Meridian of her youth, and his being not yet come to that of his, and his now having not onely a likely but also (to her thinking) a neere occasion and faire opportunity of enjoying, shee could not shut the doore of her minde against imagination, which being lubricke and invisible, penetrated (ere shee was thereof aware) into the closet of her heart, so as shee could no longer refraine from thus briefely expressing her selfe unto him.

My indeer'd Lord, wee are all of us fortunate in love, but in an unequall degree, mine cannot but make you pastime, nor yours choose but displease and trouble me. Lindadori shee frets and grieves, and so doe I too, shee for overmuch simplicity, and I out of overmuch practice; let us wend there­fore hence, I beseech you, since we have seene already enough if not too much: Which it much behooves us to doe, were it for nothing else, but to shunne the adventuring her in loves schoole, wherein who-so studies in jest, may learne in good earnest. This Bernice likes me not for you, nor this [Page 163] same Queene for mee, both which will (I doubt mee) prove dangerous sports, since you cannot but injure me, nor I choose but deceive her; meane while my father findes the want of us at home, where for being aged and solitary, he takes small joy of himselfe. If we stay lingring here to prose­cute our commenced practizes, we shall not ridde us thereof a while, and then too not without disgust-giving, and therefore the sooner the better we end them; fastidious and unprofitable creatures are for the most part by nature endowed with short life; so our lives for being of the selfe-same qua­lity, deserve to be no longer lived, than are the wind-flies that live not a­bove a dayes space; and could we ere their birth-time be abortively de­livered of them, for certaine we should be the lesse hurt by them.

Polimero smiled at these reasons of his beloved wife, whom (after having affectionately kissed her) he thus answered: Let us doe (deere Lady of my life) what please you, not because the case with us so is, but because you seeme to conceive it so to be, why? thinke you that your beauty is so slightly imprinted in the memory of my affection, that any other womans can raze thereout the obliged respects I beare you? you (alas you wrong) by so conceiting both your selfe and me; your selfe, because your merits are such, that not the Princesse of Bernice, but as many Princesses as are in the world cannot merit what you alone deserve; and me, because this su­spition of yours loades mee with infidelity and ignorance. There is no choyce without some kinde of equality, how then can I make choyce of any other in your presence, without notable stupidity and weaknesse of judgement? Or admitting you were not present, doe you hold me to bee so freed from the obligation of your love, as that any other canallure me? I know it stands us upon to wend us hence assoone as we conveniently can, so as I stand indeede upon thornes (as it were) all the while I stay heere; but alas! how can we yet goe for shame? shall wee sneake away like fugi­tives, ingratefull to our courteous entertainers, and not without being su­spected that such our resolution sprung from cowardise and feare of trying our selves in Armes with these Knights? For Lindadori your reasons were indeede considerable, if the nature whereof shee is composed were like that of other Girles, for you know, that shee is an inexorable Enemy, not onely to such a Schoole, but even to all man-kinde; so as I pray God that we may ever perswade her to like of any husband; all which Eromena knew to be most true: Wherefore it was betweene them agreed, (assoone as the next Tourney was ended, which the Knights of that Court used to exercise twice a moneth) to goe on their intended journey.

But among all the actors on this amorous scene, Coralbo (good Prince) was that onely one, who in appearance free, was yet more than any other muzled and puzled with the occult love that he bare the fierce Desterrada. Passe there did many an amorous complement and pleasing discourse be­tweene him and the Princesse of Cirene, whom he well perceived to bee well enclined towards him; nor would he have slighted such a fortune, but that the finding himselfe under the lee of those three, with whom, for his pretensions sake, it behooved him to comply, made him abhorre that congresse, for doubt of irrecoverably falling. Now Coralbo never loved but in one sole place at once; and being oncetyed, he could never more loose himselfe; yet was he never (for all that) so overshot, as to offer his [Page 164] body to pine away, or sympathize with the consumption of a captivated spirit, as being no whit ambitious of loyaltie in love, a vertue (in his con­ceit) mellancholike, and beseeming such whyning fellows as take a plea­sure in sighing; or such Poets whose blunt fancies must bee whetted with griefe, ere they can pitch on a well-relishing conceit. For his part, he en­joyed where he could, holding in that behalfe more choyce-worthy the cunningly-carried evill than the foolish-reputed good; an opinion though bad, yet more practized, and (it may be) more prized than better. But the accident that now (as you shall heare) hapned, ridde the rest of their paine and him of his trouble.

Bramac had corrupted a servant of Coralbo's Mothers, by whom hee came to be advertized of all that ever shee did, delivering his letters unto a poste that came clad in ragges and patches a-begging to her doore for Gods sake. This man discovering him to be Coralbo (though somewhat too late by reason of the Queene's concealing him as long as possibly she could) avertized thereof Bramac, in a time that hee could no way harme him: who now hearing that hee was to part suddenly, speeded away instantly certaine choyce men to murther him, and with them a Knight, with order to goe (in case they lighted not on him) to Memphi, and there demand him in his name of Pisemitide. They accordingly came, but yet a day af­ter Coralbo's parting, so as making yet sure account to surprize him by the way, they followed him with all possible diligence. But his meeting with the two Princesses, the fight, and his pursuing the runne-away theeves that led him out of his way, was the occasion that they both missed and came to Memphi before him.

The Knight that had the letters and charge of Embassie, thought the delivery thereof bootlesse before he were ascertained of his being there; but not finding him (whom he was perswaded hee should know both by counter-signes, and by his likenesse in favour to his Mother of him very well knowne he imagined that his losing of the way was the cause of his so long tarrying, which put him in a conceit of remounting on horse-back to goe meete him, assured hee should doe his Master a more acceptable piece of service in so murthering him, than in requiring him of Ptsemitide; yet this his determination was hindered by two obstacles, which were the disserviceablenesse of his owne horses (that lay distended in the stable so tired, as they were not able to stand on their legges) and the doubt of meet­ing him by the way: Whilst then he thus stood irresolved whether course to take, sending in the meane while to enquire after him over all the Innes of Memphi, (a bootlesse diligence for a private man in a City peopled with five millions of men) he might two dayes after see him with his com­panions kisse the Kings hand, knowing among them Polimero by the coun­ter-signes given him, though none of the rest, wherefore at the instant of Ptsemitides returne from the Queene's to his owne lodgings, he with pre­senting his letter, opens him his Embassage; whereupon he (the most ge­nerous Prince of his time) enflamed with anger, thus bespeakes him.

I will (my friend) excuse thee for being but an Embassadour, in discharge of whose office thou maist not but obey him that sends thee, but for which I would inflict on thee such a chastisement, as might serve for a deterring example to all such as dare require of a Prince of my quality, things not [Page 165] onely unjust, but also unworthy. Tell Bramac that I was borne King of Egypt, and if I acquired other Crownes, the world knowes I usurped them not, but both wonne and hold them by the imperiall Law of my victorious blade, ever an enemy to guile and treachery; which I never else-where read of than in the legend of his life and actions. And that therefore Co­ralbo (naturall and true Prince of Arabia) shall be by me not only denied him, but also so protected, as that I will for his sake declare my selfe his enemy, both to chastise him for his rash judgement made of me, and to re­store to the true and rightfull Queene and to her sonne apparant heire there­of, the kingdome which he so injuriously and contrary to all Lawes usur­ped. Now for thee, get thee from out our presence and that quickly too, nor allow I thee any longer time to abide in Memphi, than the unexpired piece of this day. This said, hee turnes his back and goes towards the Queene's lodgings thinking to finde there Coralbo with his company; but finding them gone ere he came, he caused to be made ready two sumptuous Chariots, commanding the Lord of Pelusio to goe fetch them to Court, without making any speech of the Embassadour, but telling them from him, that in respect of their being strangers and of Countries thence farre remote, and residing now in a Countrey where the Greeke tongue was not else-where spoken than in Court, he would be their hoste himselfe.

The foure Princes were even a-going to sit them down to supper, when the Embassie arrived; which they construed to proceede from the Queene and two Princesses of Bernice and Cirene, rather than from the King; which notwithstanding Polimero yeelded such humble thankes, and used such re­verent language, as befitted so great a Monarch and courteous a Prince, with beseeching the Lord of Pelusio to tell him, if the command were dispenseable till the following morning; but hee protesting hee was sent thither with expresse order to come and conduct them to Court presently, they willingly obeyed.

The Noble man thought to give Coralbo the first place, as knowing who he was; but seeing the respect which he in his demeanour bare to the o­ther three, he imagined that either they were also great Princes, or else that they knew him not; this conjecture of his being confirmed by his ob­serving the same all the way, and withall in the two women-signes that bred in him a doubt whether they were men or not. Come that they were to the Pallace and ascended the staires, they marveyled at the glorious sight of the number of Nobility they there saw, the King having sent to meete them the greatest Lords of the Court, and comming himselfe from out his withdrawing Chamber in person to receive them: To whom Po­limero was about in a respectively-complementall way to expresse their gratefull engagement for so high a favour and great honour done them; when hee taking by the hand Coralbo, whom by the counter-signes given him he knew, thus smilingly bespake him.

And is it thus indeede, that you without any safe conduct come into my Territories my Lord Prince of Arabia, and thinke to be here unknowne? At these words Coralbo (good Prince) remained astonished, for not know­ing in what sense to interpret them, and had (but for his mothers having that authenticke protection which shee had) made the worst construction thereof; although the fame of the Kings generous disposition and noble-mindednesse [Page 166] made him conceive them somewhat neerer their right sense; yet stood hee a good while musing what answer to make, irresolved whe­ther hee were best confesse himselfe to be such or not: which Ptsemitide observing; You need not Prince (spake he then on) conceale your selfe from mee, who will be to you not onely a friend, but a father too, which you shall see by reall effects. Coralbo at these words kneeling before him, would needs have therefore kissed his hand; but he not suffering him to abide in that submissive posture suddenly rais'd him up, who having by this time regain'd his breath and courage, return'd him this answer.

Royall Sir, I deny me not to be Coralbo, but well affirme, that your Ma­jesty hath in two words so obliged me, that I am so far from denying you my name, as I'le not deny you my life, so fortune made me so happy as to spend it in your Majesties service. The King upon this (after having againe embraced him) reaccounted unto him openly Bramac's embassie with his answer, and then proceeded. I will endeavour to re-acquist you the king­dome or dye in the attempt; the deferring whereof shall bee no longer than till the getting together the forces necessary for such an enterprize. Coralbo was so confused in minde (or rather so transported beyond him­selfe) at this so unthought of good fortune, as he could not hit on language suitable to his beholdingnesse. When the King observing that his compa­nions comprehended with no symptome of strangenes this title of Prince, withdrawing him aside, asked him who they were. Coralbo (to whom de­nying the truth seemed a tearme of ingratitude, and againe the discovering it (he knew) could not but disgust them his highly-honoured friends) an­swered: I cannot say (Sir) that I know them not, but I well know that they would not bee knowne; therefore I referre it to your Majesties discreete consideration to command me what your royall pleasure is I should doe; I pray you (replied he againe smiling) tell it me howsoever, and I promise you it shall be from all else kept as secret as if you had never told me of it. But then at hearing it, his astonishment was such, as it almost made him breake his word: Willingly would hee have knowne then presently the story and occasion of their comming thither, but that doubting of their ta­king notice thereof, he remitted it till after supper. And now whilest the Courtiers ran to kisse Coralbo's hand, he thence retiring himselfe with the two Princesses and Polimero, thus greetes them.

I doubt me (worthy Sir) yee have judged me discourteous, for having (by being so long in presenting my honoured respects to the Prince of A­rabia) neglected my observance to you, for which I beseech you to excuse me, and withall to command in this house such entertainment and service as best likes you. Polimero who at first upon Coralbo's being discovered was exceedingly confused in minde, but afterwards at his hope-surpassing good fortune beyond expression joyfull, answered him: Mighty Sir, your Majesty cannot be moved to say thus to us otherwise than by your royall courtesie, whereby you have obliged all that knew you; the favours and honours we receive so exceedingly beyond all degrees of exceedingnesse surpasse the meannesse of our merits, as they argue that your Majesties benignity after a long contestation with your greatnesse, is become in e­very respect its equall: Besides, that the favours you doe the Prince of A­rabia is so well employed, as your Majestie could never conferre them [Page 167] on a more deserving personage. The King stedfastly beheld the two shee-warriers with great delight, affecting naturally both beauty and valour; nor was it now difficult for him by the inkling before given him to discern their sex, which taking on him he did not though against his will: Your aspects (answered hee) are such as speake you worthy of my more respe­ctive observance, I should be loath to one past errour to adde many grea­ter; and therefore I pray you tell me who yee are, that I may the better know how to suite your entertainment to your quality; your endeered friendship and intimate familiarity with the Prince of Arabia, and your having knowne him for such before (as I am induced to beleeve by your not marveyling at my naming him by his title) perswade me, that you are his equalls if not superiours. At this Eromena blush'd, and doubting lest her husband should by importunity bee wrought to tell him what they were, shee answered:

Be your Majesty (we beseech you) pleased to lay apart so high an opi­nion of such meane Gentlemen as wee be; we are ('tis true) Knights er­rant, and that is the greatest quality we can assume or ever aspire unto: If upon understanding what till then we knew not of the Prince of Arabia, we made no present demonstration of our joy and duty, it was not because we knew him before, but to afford others the more ample commodious­nesse of doing him congratulating offices, which (wee presum'd) wee could not misse of at his more privacie and leisure, our travelling together and long conversation having (we thanke his benigne goodnesse) made us somewhat familiar.

The King well knew the Princesse's minde, and as one that never dis­pleased Lady, would not displease her; but turned his discourse to ano­ther subject. And then assoone as Coralbo was ridde of his complementall cumber, he led them all to the Queene; who already informed of Coralbo's beeing, expressed much joy thereat, all the other Princesses doing the same, but that of Cirene more than all the rest. And then after supper (where their bodies were not so much refresh'd with foode, as their mindes sollaced with mirth & pleasing discourses) they were accommodated with Lodgings conformable to the quality of the hoast, and greatnesse of the Inne. And in the night-time their Chambers being neere adjoyning (as they desired they should be) Eromena perswaded her husband to a suddain departure, shewing him, that to stay for jousts was but a reason vaine, and capable of entangling them in endlesse affaires.

The day being come, Polimero renewes his congratulating joyes with Coralbo, that fortune had declared her selfe so favourable unto him for the recovery of his state, with expressing how sorry he was that he could not be in his owne person a partaker in that service, the affaires of Sardinia, and his father-in-lawes infirmity necessarily requiring his speedy returne home. Coralbo (that had before-hand beene fully enformed of all) answe­red him. That on the contrary he was right sorry, that he could not serve him in Sardinia according as he had once purposed; howbeit hee hoped (upon fortune's favouring him, with a little vacancie from his affaires, to which he was for the present necessitated to attend, more for honours sa­tisfaction than for any great list he had thereunto) to finde a time to come in person to make a reall expression of his mindfulnesse of the obligations [Page 168] he stood bound to him in. The courtesies were of both sides reciprocall, entertwyned by those of Eromena, who earnestly besought Coralbo to pro­cure them speedy leave to depart, which conformably followed to the amazement of all the Court, and passing sorrow of the Queene, her daugh­ter, and Berenice. The King privately enformed by Coralbo of the urgen­cie of their occasions, without making shew that he knew any thing there­of, was content to let them goe on their way. Onely Coralbo above all others felt extreame griefe at this separation; I make no mention of parti­cular affections, of the words and offers of the three pretended-she-lovers, of the promises of returne and well-carried dissimulations of the two she­warriers, accompanied a good part of their way by Coralbo, who had past on further too, if they had permitted him. Stammer out then hee did some service-intimating complements to Lindadori, by her rather heard than conceived. From Polimero and the rest the period of his parting-farewell was rather silence than any complement. Come to the Sea-shore, they imbarked themselves for Cyprus, a Course though somewhat more giring, yet more secure than the shorter cut; whereof the Count of Bona was very glad, making an account of informing himselfe there, of the particular successes of Prince Melianto. But there was thereof no neede, there for­tuning to bee aboord the ship they were in, a Gentleman of that Court, bound thither, who being asked what newes stirr'd in those parts, answe­red; that Cyprus was now the joyfullest kingdome in the world, sithence that alliance which was thought to prove the occasion of bloody warre, was now growne to bee an indissoluble knot of unexpected friendship. Whereupon Eromena seeming to be desirous to understand the particulari­ties thereof, the Gentleman courteously corresponds her desire in these words.

Illirium a most warlike kingdome hath for King one call'd Ormando, a Prince many degrees above his predecessors both vertuous and excellent. The feates of Armes he performed whilest he was a young man, afforded rich matter both to poesie and story; And now that he is become old, his prudence and justice give yet a greater light to States-men; who gathering from out this one Prince's life, so many cases to judge by, and so many ex­amples to governe by, apparantly saw, that the world had now no more neede of any other exquisite patterne for the well-governing of Com­mon-wealths, and Idealty of Princes; his kingdome being such a Com­mon-wealth, and his person such a really-formed Prince, as others endea­vour to forme imaginarily. Acquired he had (before his comming to the Crowne) an infinite number of Countries, which (for being farre remote from our parts) have names that never came to our knowledge, excepting some of the lesse distant and more famous of them, as those of the Mi­sians, the Dardans, the Triballs, the Sarmats, the Bohemenians, Russians, and others in the large-extending Territories of vaste Germany, to whom he gave both Princes and liberty; content (in memory of his Victories) onely to tye them to speake for ever the Illirian tongue. Hee fortuned (whilst hee was a Knight-errant) to become enamoured of Arnelinda Princesse of Cyprus, who (though already promised in marriage to Arbon King of Pontus (a fierce young Prince) could not yet choose but love him, whose gestures, disposition, and presence were meanes but too potent to [Page 169] force her will. But shee (being among all the Virgins that ever Minerva nurst the most constant in good actions) one day that hee made bold to speake to her of love, thus wrothfully checked him.

Your words (Prince Ormondo) make me now perceive, you are not that good Prince you are taken for; seeing you, that of mine (as being a Vir­gins) honour should be a defender, are that only he that attempts its bane, and that (by undermining it) goes about to destroy and ruine it: Alas! I have not any Knights to defend me: Defend you mee then against your selfe. I am already a married wife, and that you well know too: Seeing then you sinne not through ignorance, 'tis certaine you doe it out of malice. What is it (I would faine know) that you pretend of mee? Seeme (I won­der) either my behaviour or fame such in your prejudicating eyes, as might suggest in your undermining heart so outragious a presumption? Or though it so were, that you loved me unfainedly, and that (through my ill fortune) I lov'd you too; yet what comfort, nay what hopes of comfort could out desires have, that can prove otherwise than treason and shame unto me, and treachery and shame unto you? It will then be the lesser evill, that (for not tormenting me) you retire your selfe. Fortune, you see, hath bestow'd me upon another; sithence then be yours I cannot, you must bee content that you cannot be mine neither. At these words Ormondo remain'd astonished; perceiving himselfe in an instant to be (ere he was aware thereof) beloved; and yet againe in the very same moment of time (contrary to loves nature) refuted. But the property of generous hearts being inclinable rather to hope than feare, he returned her this answer.

Right excellent Madame, as my words aymed no way at your preju­dice, so shall my actions tend ever to your service: And though I bee not for the present a crown'd King as is that of Pontus, yet am I to be one day such by the order of nature, and of such a kingdome too, that (as I may without any vaunting say) Pontus and tenne such cannot equall it. Of the persons I meane not to make comparisons: But if there be no other worth or good that makes for me, than the courteous inclination to me-wards, which to my good hap I discover in you; yet shall that alone sufficiently serve my turne to merit you in your owne judgement, and yet much more in the judgement of others for its depriving them of all merit: I want, and seeke for a wife my selfe too, and marriages are written in heaven, the prime Article of whose Law is, that the married couple be thereunto vo­luntarily consenting. Therefore although I say not that the King of Pontus is not worthy of you, considering his noble conditions; yet will I boldly affirme, that he cannot be justly your husband, in case you thereof are not contented otherwise than in obeysance of others. I (Madame) never en­tertained a thought of motioning love unto you, otherwise than in a law­full and honourable way. And so to doe both your fame and conditions emboldened me, yea that fame, which (to your passing glory) sounds a singular note of excellency in the eares of all men, and these conditions which serve for a norme and patterne for all the Princesses and women of the earth to forme their lives and actions by; for but for your being such, I had ne're fixt on you an affectionate eye. Moreover, although (I grant) that your beauty and outward feature have force to violent hearts, yet may there be, for all that, a heart arm'd against them, & penetrable only by the [Page 170] Armes of innocence and internall purity. Againe, for me to get me gone without you is altogether impossible: You say you are married, and yet (I know) you are not; the Embassadours of Pontus and your father had no authority to binde you; you onely are shee that makes up the Matrimony, and shee that may choose and refuse to make it; The parts thereof are yet both in their entire, and both free: The bonds of the two Lawes, Humane and Divine, though they be made ready to binde you, have not bound you yet though, so as they cannot be thereby any way infringed. A true and lawfull Matrimony indeede it would be, that you accepting mee for your servant and husband, would vouchsafe to blesse mee by pronouncing one single voluntary Yea; that then I might ascertaine you, that the hopes you please to build on me are neither vaine nor ruinous.

Humane inclinations were ever subject to perswasions. The Princesse who meerely for Ormondo's fame was in some sort enamoured of him ere ever shee saw him, now after seeing him accompanied with so many ver­tues (so excellently-excelling, as onely one of them was able to dignifie and make worthy any Cavalier whatsoever) became so enflamed with love of him, that the Matrimony contracted seemed a hell to her, wherefore doubting whether shee should ever more light on the like occasion, her af­fection being already unvail'd, shee deem'd it best to unvaile also her de­sire; fetching then a deepe sigh that intimated the as yet doubtfulnesse of her hopes, shee thus bespeakes him.

Prince of Illirio; I render you not thankes for your love, as according to the custome of the times I should doe, because I like not the being an affectate follower of the common stile; I follow mine owne, and have (as I conceive) my reason for it; knowing that who so loves, loves for his owne affections sake, so as the obligations and reciprocall duties so com­plementally professed amongst friends, are words meerely superfluous, and tearmes and names unfit to bee used. Touching now what you offer me, I am perswaded you doe it not, without having first examined the dif­ficulty of the enterprize with your dangers and their consequences: Let me now then see in case I pronounced your desired Yea, what (for the lesse dangerous) course would you take to have me? Whereto Ormondo all-joy­full answered; The usuall course (Madame) in such cases throughout all the world. The Prince of Thrace my Couzen will lend mee his Galley, which is one of the swiftest that ever furrowed the Ocean. Come once but to set footing in Illirico, I then feare not all the powers of the world; for your Father and Brother, they will (I perswade my selfe) be glad upon comprehending the exchange you have made of a litle King for a great kingdome: And for Arbone I conceive no occasion you have to feare him. Arnelinda would not resolve of any thing for that present, but tooke time to thinke thereon, which served for an item for the now halfe-promi­sed bride-groome to prepare himselfe.

Ormondo was then come from the Easterne parts with an intent to re­turne homewards; but passing from Phenicia to Cyprus hee there chanced to finde Serpidoro Prince of Thrace his Cozen german, with whom hee being bred up from a childe, and both of them having learnt the exercises of Chivalry together, there sprung from this their conversation a friend­ship which transcended the love of blood, the strongest tye of the most [Page 171] part of kinsmen, which gave to as many as knew them an example of an illimited love without paragon. Now Serpidoro had (after having given the chase to some vessels of pirates which he afterwards tooke in the Cili­cian Sea) heard of the neighbouring nuptialls in Cyprus, whither he there­upon retired with one sole Galley, (having sent the rest home) with an in­tention to trie himselfe in Armes at the Tourney; where finding (beyond his expectation) his endeer'd Cozen Ormondo, they both resolved to main­taine the lists against all the adventurers of the jousts. But this new amo­rous congresse set their braines a working on new deliberations, Serpidoro causing (upon Ormondo's scarce opening of his mouth) his Galley to bee new-calk'd and rigg'd, with giving speciall order, that nothing should bee wanting her, that might any way make her more usefull and serviceable to steed his friend. Senesteo King of Cyprus, and more than hee the Prince Ortomano his sonne, enamoured of the qualities and faire disposition of Or­mondo did him all imaginable honour, not without repining though too late, that it had not fallen to their lot to have had him insteede of Arbone, now that they perceived him somewhat affectionately enclined to Arne­linda: Love [the fire of the minde] being hardly smothered, and there­fore not unlike the elementall fire, which if it flame not must needs smoake.

The Princesse assoone as Ormondo was parted from her, summoned all her thoughts before the tribunall of her judgement, the maine subject of her consideration in her case was the sole point of honour, the arguments about which were great, but all solved by the title of Matrimony: For her father, she imagined that he being discreete, would not be displeased there­at; not because children stolne away ease their fathers of their duty of caring or doing for them (such being onely a shake-off excuse and advan­tage of base and servile-minded people) but because the affinity with so great a King might steed him very much; besides, the having of so valo­rous a Prince for his sonne-in-law, of whom hee might promise himselfe more than of the King of Pontus, whose foole-hardy rashnesse could not but stirre up suspicion in him and in her feare and terrour: A discourse wholly tending to the substance, since shee could not light on any oppo­sition touching any outward apparance, feature or, demeanour; shee con­ceiting, that no other man than Ormondo could ever make her happy; that no other than he deserved the Epithet of handsome, proper, and well-car­riaged; that no face, speech, or behaviour could be esteeme-worthy or gracefull, that either in aspect, accent, or manners any thing differed from his. In briefe, shee conceived, that in him alone was comprehended all humane good, wherein though shee indeed was not much deceived, yet concludes, that not (for all that) shee could not bee beguiled, as for the most part are deceivable all such Matrimonies whose ends are venery and lust, such not eiyng but where they like: For, pleasure being an enemy to the privation of it selfe, abhorres the sight of the unlovely parts, for not being constrain'd to loathe them; and hath for feeding that its humour per­petually fixed on the lovely parts more eyes than Argos, but is to the lothsome ones starke blinde; Or if he hood-wink'd see any of them, hee may then chafe and fret, and perhaps perswade himselfe to bee mistaken, but not have the power to disolve any part of his beloved object; so as the thought there of either flies away like a bird, or vanisheth like a spirit: For [Page 172] her brother shee saw no probability of his disliking her choyce, whom she knew hee tendred deerely, as being to Arbone no whit, but to Ormondo al­together inclined. After all which considerations, her resolution was, to get her thence, so she might but doe it without danger.

Ormondo (that thought that no time to lose time) fail'd not to come the day following to visit her; and having obtain'd his desired Yea, calling unto him the Prince of Thrace, who stood apart entertaining the Ladies, hee unnoted of any other, espoused her in his presence, and then instantly proposeth the plot of taking her away that very night, which accordingly so happily succeeded, that no living soule either perceived or suspected it.

The carefull Serpidoro, having lodg'd the bride-couple a-bed, sail'd on with all diligence all the night long, so as the following morning hee was got so farre, as that they could now no more descrie the beloved Cyprus. The faire Arnelinda, though exceedingly content with her Bridegroome, was yet a litle discontent, or at least pensive for what she had done, a kinde of repentance, (if so it may bee call'd) counterfeite and fained. The consideration of the likelihood of her being talked of and censured, for ha­ving left her father, and unmarried and remarried againe at her pleasure, vext her to the very heart. For ought else shee was so farre from repen­ting, that if shee had beene yet to doe it, shee would have done it againe & againe, although in doing it shee had hazarded much more than shee did. Ormondo joyes her, and Serpidoro cheeres her up, and does her all loving offices as tenderly-carefull as if shee had beene his owne sister, failing all the while with a prosperous gale till they came within kenning of the coasts of Licia, where their being becalmed rowsed up the ghing, who o­beying the boatsonne, made the Vessell stir on with maine force of Oares. But now that they were got within tenne miles of the Chelidonian Ilands, they might see launch out from among the rocks a Fleete of tenne Gal­leyes, which (as the Pilote judged) had beene kept in by contrary windes, and were now in that calme set out. At the sight where of the sweete Ar­nelinda grew pale, imagining (nor was shee indeede mistaken) that they were of Pontus, and that aboord them was the King, bound for Cyprus to marry her; which beleeved so to be by Scrpidoro too, he caused (for shun­ning the incountring them) the Marriners to take about towards Libecchio.

The Fleete observing the Galley (that before steerd directly towards them) begin now to alter her course, grew thereupon suspicious of her, and taking her to be some pirate, gave her speedily a sterne-chase, with three of the fleetest, the others following them. Serpidoro looking Ormon­do in the face without speaking a word, seemed to expect hee should com­mand him either to abide the fight or flie; whereupon the other turning toward him in a smiling manner said: And what else shall wee doe (noble Cozen) but shunne the fight? since that if we chance to have the worst of it, the vanquisher will then gaine my prize; and againe, in case wee have the best on't, then shall I bee much blamed for first taking away the wife, and then killing the husband too; let us therefore (a Gods name) hold on our way, wee shall have good sport in seeing our selves vainely pursued, seeing we have (I thanke you) a Galley able to contend with the Dolphins for fleetnesse. This Counsell pleased well Serpidoro, so did not the pastime Arnelinda, who enlarging her selfe on the reason produced by her hus­band, [Page 173] told them, that for her part shee held it not fitting to jeare any offen­ded person, for not accumulating (against all reason) scorne upon injury; which shee more efficaciously exprest upon discerning soone after the Ad­mirall (who being a very swift one had left the others a poope of her) ma­king a signe (as the custome is) with a bunch of feathers, in token of her commanding obeysance. The Princes all this while could not betake themselves to a resolute (as they had done to a determinate) flight; but now since that it stood them upon, they (not despising their enemies fleet­nesse) scowred on with all the force and speed they could, after being vain­ly pursued full twenty miles.

The King of Pontus seeing the impossibility of overtaking her, return'd to steere his intended course, meeting with (towards the evening) the whole squadron of Cyprus, that came tracing the fugitive Galley. Hail'd that they had each other, the Admirall hies to the Kings Galley, whom he acquaints with the rape of the Princesse, stolne away by the two Princes of Thrace and Illirium; I know not whether he thereat became stone or no, so astonished was he at this unexpected accident; which if he did, 'twas then surely a fiery stone, for there flash'd from out of it such flames of an­ger and disdaine, as seemed to be able to consume the world: He now per­ceiv'd that the Galley he had given chase to, was the thiefe; and therefore repented he had not pursued her to the utmost. But seeing it could now be no otherwise remedied, causing his to tack about, and the Galley-slaves to be refreshed, he made them plie Iustily their Oares, steering all the night long, the slaves rowing in their quarters, and the Knights, Souldiers, and himselfe too putting their helping hands to the Oares to releeve them, that there might be no minute of time lost.

The two Princes seeing that the King was (for being weary of chasing them) retired, and that the Princesse (now ridde of the feare shee stood in) desired to see land, went and anchored in Rhodes, their ghing being tired, and no breath of winde stirring on Sea. They tooke port in the Iland, shunning the City for their more freedome. But scarce was it day, when the Scowt from off the Maine-top cried out, that there made after them a Fleete of sixteene Galleyes, not above twenty miles a sterne of them: Vpon this Ormondo starting from out his bed, found the vigilant Serpidoro, that having already wayed anchor, was now launching out of the Bay. By when they might see the sixteene Galleyes, who before rowing but quar­terly with a fourth part of their Oares, tugg'd (now that they descried her) with the utmost and united might all their Oare-men had, whilest others abbassed the Decks, and put all things in readinesse for the fight. Never was there seene a fairer chase, nor a fairer triall of good Galleyes. Most of the Fleete came lagging on by one and two's, for not being able to maintaine so swift a course as the foremost foure, of which also three in lesse then fifteene miles course came halting after the Admirall, some five, some six miles short of her, shee alone continuing her maine speed as at first, the King doing himselfe the office of Boatsonne, ghing-captaine, and unjust inflicter of more unjust cruelties on the lives of such, whom being litle priviledged in bodily force he would have (to Natures shame) to have more strength than they had. Thus lasted the flight and chase from the set­ting of Lucifer to the rising of Hesperus; of sixteene Galleyes there now [Page 174] appearing none save the Royall of Pontus; the Admirall of Cyprus being farre a poope of her, and the rest heere one and there another, six and eight miles short of her.

Good pastime had Serpidoro all that day, in observing Arbon's folly, marveiling that the triall hee had two dayes before made of his Galleyes swiftnesse had not by now taught him more wit, since the very Gray­hounds cease their course, when they see their prey so farre out-strippe them, as they see no possibility of overtaking it. And his ghing though they seemed to row but for their pleasure, got notwithstanding ever more and more ground of their pursuers, and then upon the breathing of a gentle North-east winde, entring into the Channell betweene Creete and Caria in the Ciclads Laborinth, leaving on the right hand Stefalea, and on the left Terasia; they sayled with some danger, till they struck into Ecatea, where they cast anchor, having got out of Arbon's sight the first evening, with­out seeing any more signe of him: For all which Arnelinda could not yet thinke her selfe safe enough: All this way steer'd they in a short time, al­though Ormondo all this while fretted exceedingly at the necessity of their flight, whilest the enemy being severed from his company might bee well fought withall and vanquished, his ghing being even dead with over-la­bouring, his Souldiers quite tired in releeving them, and Arbon himselfe, over and besides his native rashnesse, being now long of the torture of his owne chafing fury more than ever voyd of judgement and discretion: By alleadging which reasons he (changed from his former determination) ear­nestly importuned and oft entreated his wives assent, who as earnestly of the other side disswaded and begg'd of him to forbeare. Reposed them­selves that they had one night, they (waying anchor) steered away aloofe of the Hellespont, (Arbon's right way for Pontus, and theirs for Bisantium) and thence towards Maronea the first place of Thrace, where they abode till Serpidoro by advertizing the King Ciriandro his Father of their arrivall, received commodious meanes for conducting them to Court as beseemed such Princes. Faine would Ormondo have (under one) brought his Bride straight to Illirio, for not incommodating his friend, which the other would by no meanes suffer him to doe, but tooke hold of this occasion of entertaining and honouring his friend at his home as hee had often wish'd for; which courtesie it behov'd the other to accept, as well for Arnelinda's sake, who was now weary of the sea, as also for the hope he had, that his sojourne there would not prove unnecessary, considering the probability of Arbon's hostile incursions into Ciriandros dominions, the two king­domes being not otherwise separated than by the Bosforum, and by conse­quence neere enough to molest each other.

Ciriandro understanding how the case stood, was nothing pleased there­with, as foreseeing what must in its respect befall him; yet omitted he not (for all that) the sending of Litters, Horses, Ladies and Knights to serve the Princes; taking there with hall such order as was requisite for his States­defence. And then came himselfe in person together with his Queene Si­ledc being Ormondo's owne Aunt, and Eliante his Daughter to the foote of Mount Rodope to meete them: whence he conducted them to Nicopoli, and thence to Bisantium; by when he was advertized that Arbone was prepa­ring to passe over the Bosforum with an indifferent strong Army, impatient [Page 175] of staying for asmuch as the necessary provisions requisite for such an en­terprize.

In the meane space King Chronno Prince Ormondo's Father, a Prince ri­gorously-just (advertized of the case by the Queene of Thrace his sister, by speedy messengers) banisheth from his State his sonne, for being married without his consent, for the stealing away of anothers Bride, and the injury done to two Kings his friends; yet forbare he not (for all that) to furnish him abundantly with all things needfull, by sending him (as from his mo­ther) monies for him, and Iewels for Arnelinda, and for the warres, a silent assent to the Nobility, and expresse Commissions to the Milice to passe in small disordered squadrons over into Thrace. So as the number of Cavaliers was sufficient not onely to finish that warre, but even afterwards to conquer the greatest part of the knowne world.

Arbon's first enterprize was to ravage and runne over with his Army all betweene the Bosforum and the Hellespont, sacking and then (to Ciri­andro's more dammage) burning whatsoever hee lighted on, and thence crost over the sea to besiege Bysantium. Permitted hee was to land, but to his fatall ruine, for that war was ended by that one battell, his forces being almost all of them there cut in pieces, and himselfe taken prisoner by Or­mondo; who passing afterwards with his Illirians over into Pontus, tooke all that kingdome, and with it Bonarea and Arselia King Arbon's sisters, whom together with their brother he delivered over to the hands of Ciri­andro. Mette in his returne was Ormondo with great triumphs by his en­deer'd Cozen Serpidoro, who eying Bonarea, became suddenly enamoured of her, an affect necessitating his cheering her up with tearmes and offers betweene courteous and amorous, which was the occasion that made her soone lay aside all womanish desperations; and so account her imprison­ment the meanes and occasioner rather of her joy than discontent. She ap­peased as well as shee could the raving fury of her more than furious bro­ther, whose liberty shee might (as shee presumed) have begg'd ransom­lesse, but that his precipitous nature could not abide the motioning of such a resolution; his prison was neverthelesse large enough, for he might goe where he listed over all the Castle. So was he like wise in all other respects honoured and served more like a King than a prisoner. Serpidoro this meane while communicating his love to his friend, besought him to bethinke himselfe of some way of satisfying his desire; for that hee doubted that his Father, despising the condition of a prisoner-princesse, would hardly assent to his choyce. Vpon this Ormondo (after having considered with himselfe the importancie of the businesse) goes to Bonarea, whom hee findes gladsomely enjoying the sweete company of Eliante and Arnelinda. Taking her therefore apart, he thus bespeakes her.

If I pretended (sweete Madame) to implore of your goodnesse any fa­vour for my selfe, I were then ill advised to come in my owne person, with any hope to obtaine it; for knowing, that my having done you so many injuries cannot choose but give you just occasion to hate me. But (so the Gods love me) all passed faults of mine in that behalfe are mecrely inno­cent errours; whereof the first was of love ere ever I knew your brother; the second of naturall defence, wherein he through his ill fortune lost his liberty; the third of warre, by which I tooke from him his State, and [Page 176] your noble personage more esteeme-worthy than either kingdome, Crown or any thing else; and this thought I fitte to acquaint you with (Madame) before I passe any farther, to the end my actions might in some excusable way be construed by you, whose good opinion I esteeme more than all my acquists, as I now meane to let you see. Bonarea marveiling at such a pre­amble, and longing to understand its sequell, return'd him this answer.

Most valorous and redoubted Prince, Fortune hath by your victorious hands so abased me, that neither you have occasion to begge ought of me, nor I wherewithall to favour, you, which if I had, I would then let you see, even in the present estate I yet am in, that a mayden of my condition regards more the intention than the effects; and though I know that you are the totall ruine of our State, and the sole occasion of our disasters; yet know I likewise as well, that what you tell me is not farre from the truth. So as though I seeme to have cause, yet neither ought I justly, nor can I with reason hate you. Next for your person, it (right noble Prince) car­rieth with it so many and so great priviledges, that to beleeve your selfe to be in its respect disadvantagious with me, were rather to accuse me of un­just judgement in your merits, than just passion for your faults; but the pre­sent being of both of us, will soone ridde us of any such doubt, since that I being your vanquished prisoner, am by the practised Law of Armes to receive Lawes from you my vanquisher. The generous hearted Ormondo remain'd astonished at so noble a spirit, so as established firmer now than ever in his good intention, he in this sort replied.

Princely Madame, such generous hearts as yours neither know what dis­asters meane, nor are any way subject to vanquishers; nay they losing e­vermore gaine; well may fortune have power over what's theirs, but yet never over them, and (by her favour) shee is now like to disclaime her in­terest in either. But here, because they were standing, he courteously pre­senting her a stoole, and then seating himselfe on another close by her, thus proceeded. I have seriously bethought my selfe (Madame) of fin­ding after so many evils a remedy for such as are yet revokeable, as is the Realme, and liberty on such conditions as may assure a true and durable peace betweene the kingdome of Thrace and that of Pontus. The enmity (you know) is sprung from an intended marriage, broke off by mee; in re­compence of which one, I would now make up three; the King your bro­ther can now have no more pretensions, since hee hath lost Bride, King­dome, liberty, sisters, and all; which not with standing, my intention is to restore him all, excepting your person (Madame) not to detaine you pri­soner, but that being a free woman you may oblige me in bestowing your selfe in an honourable way on my Cozen Scrpidoro, who entirely loves and highly honours you: The Princesse Arselia I meane (so she be there­with pleased) to match with Ortomano Prince of Cyprus my brother-in­law. And to your brother for Arnelinda that I tooke from him, I'le give my Cozen Eliante, and with her for dowry both the kingdome of Pontus, and his liberty. Now although I know that such conditions make for his advantage, yet held I it not fit to propose them to other than you, that you might treate thereof with him, considering that he'le not easily bee over­ruled by other, than such whom he is well acquainted with.

Vnexpressible was the consolation that the noble-minded Bonarea re­ceived [Page 177] from so beyond-all-hope-generous a proposition; whereunto she (after having humbly thanked him in the most gratefull and courteous language shee could devise) told him; that touching Arbano's businesse, shee would treate with him of it; but for the other that concern [...] her selfe, shee meant not to will other than that which to him, to her-so-great obligation seemed good for her to determine of, stiling her disasters hap­pinesse, and her losses invaluable acquisitions, since they had beene the meanes to bring her to such noble acquaintance, and such happy friend­ship. Shee usually went to visit her brother almost every day, and had by commending the Cavaliers of that Court, and their courtesies (seconded with adverse fortune which makes men become wise) somewhat mollified the hardnesse of his fierce humour, and now as a discreete woman falling to discourse first at large of the businesse, shee by degrees fell to propose, how advantagious it were for him if such things could be effected, which indeed were already granted. But he thinking they would never be drawne to such conditions, which hee for his part would but too willingly assent unto; shee (with that) opens unto him all that Ormondo had treated of with her; whereupon expressing with shouts of joy the infinitnesse of his obligations to him; and being after set free out of the Castle, there was soone in liberty concluded on, what in liberty was to be enjoyed.

Ciriandro first sends a noble Embassie into Cyprus to Senasteo with the six Galleyes that had beene taken from him; acquaints him also with all that had happened, and offers him with the marriage a perpetuall amity; shewes him, to how good an end the ill beginning came to, and how there was fallen to his lot the most noble and valorous sonne-in-law that the world could boast of. Conformable to this writes also Arnelinda, and withall craves her Father pardon, invites her brother, and prayes both of them to accept of both the peace and alliance. Arbone too by his parti­cular embassadours assures him of the memory that he would perpetually conserve of his love, no otherwise than if he had indeede beene his sonne­in-law; and that since he could not have Arnclinda, he yet could not chuse but commend her for having so happily transgressed; he proffers him Ar­selia for Ortomano, and thankes him for his Galleyes, which though by him lost, were yet out of the vanquishers noble courtesie resent him.

Senesteo comprehending such a stinging businesse of difference to be so composed and determined to his honour, gave his free assent and leave to Ortomano, who (conveyed by fifteene Galleyes) went flying to Thrace, where hee was courteously received, and nobly welcomed by his sister, brother-in-law, and Bride with infinite joy: And then with all conveni­ent speede were the treble nuptialls solemnly celebrated, Pontus restored, and Ormondo with the good leave of his Vncle and Cozen (leaving Arne­linda quick with childe) issued out with his Illirians to the field, not accep­ting of one Thracian in all his troupes. And taking occasion to remember how his men were ill treated in passing through the Countries of the Dar­dans and Triballs, he assayles, subdues, and then incorporates the later to the Crowne of Thrace in recompence of the kingdome of Pontus, by him restored to Arbone; the same did he also to the Dardans, subjecting them to his Father. Return'd to Nicopolis, he found Arnelinda freed of her burthen, having brought to the world two goodly twins, a boy and a girle, the first [Page 178] named Ladomonte, and the other Deadora; yet would he not (for all that) part from Thrace ere he saw budde forth the fruite of the other three. Bo­narea bare Serpidoro a male childe call'd Erpandro, Eliante brought forth Arbone, another named Vincireo, and Arsilea to Ortomano a third hight Gra­damoro. But then sent for home by frequent Embassadors from his father, longing to see with his sonne his daughter-in-law with her litle babes, he parted (leaving many a fare-well weeping eye behinde him) though not without first agreeing on a marriage betweene Erpandro and Deadora, as then but few moneths of age. The love of the two friends ever studying how, and yet never finding meanes sufficient to conjoyne, and in varied wayes re-conjoyne those affects in them, which could not possibly be ever either disjoyned or worne away by any malicious suggestion of time or fortune.

The valorous Ormondo having thus by his returne satisfied his Fathers desire, goes out against the Dacians, and subjugates them; and then having conquered both Panonians, wheeles his victorious front towards the Sar­macians, next whom he vanquisheth the Russians; combated had hee also with the frozen Neptune of those seas, but that the frost of the Hyperbo­rcans retreated him. And being daily abundantly supplied with fresh men, that from Illirio swarm'd to him like Bees rather to the victory than booty, he thought best to make a modestly-discreete use of his fortune by restrai­ning the bounds of his Empire within a governable distance; selecting therefore the best deserving among the most valiant, he bestowes on them his acquisted Crownes; for conserving which, he left with each of them an Army, which served both for a Colony, and Seminary of his language; Ormondo having by his victories imposed no other yoake on the tributary Kings, than the obligation of leaving the Illirian tongue hereditary to po­sterity. And thence passing into Germany, he there with other Provinces subjected the Bohemians, subjugating likewise the Is̄trians in returning homewards; where come, he found his father decrepit, his wife (as it were) halfe a widow, and his children well growne up. The first hee now therefore eased of the burthen of governement, who a litle after died hap­pie in his sonnes glorious acquists: the second he comforted with new off­spring: The third he tooke care for, placing Ladomonte in the career of an heroike education; and seeing that Deadora, disdaining the needle and spindle, with generous affects emulated his victories, he would not force nor thwart her naturall inclinations, which though not best beseeming her sex, were yet no whit misbeseeming a royall Lady, a great Princesse, and an Ormondo's Daughter. A liberty which although shee assumed, yet made shee such delicate use of it, that Nature repenting the having made her a woman, bestowed on her a manly deportment, limbes, and force, though yet no point farther than love permitted her; for observing her to be faire among the fairest, and in both gesture and aspect gracefull and lovely a­mong the prime that way endowed; hee would not with those his graces have enriched her in vaine, but would thereof in some sort parti­cipate, so as though shee were a Masculine to others, yet was shee a soster sex'd creature to him.

Ormondo's Court was so frequented, (his fame summoning all honour­emulating Cavaliers to come from all parts to see him) as that it had not its [Page 179] paragon in all Europe. Among the younger sort whereof were his three Nephewes, sprung from the three marriages made by him, (who were) Erpandro of Thrace, whom as soone as borne he had made his sonne-in­law; Vincireo of Pontus, and Gradamoro Arnelinda's owne Nephew, all which liv'd in the company of Prince Ladomonte, who by his actions shewed himselfe to bee a true branch of Ormondo's stock. In quality hee seemed to be their King, in maturity, if not a father, then something of a name lesse severe; for title of contemporary (or peere in yeares) became him not: Now there was ever among the other three Cozens an unfained emulation, the two of Cyprus and Pontus holding still together against that other of Thrace, so as being ever of accord and friends either with other, they ever discorded and were at jurre with him: Againe, Deadora (for her part) alwayes frequented her Brother and Cozen's exercises, as hunting, barriers, jousts, and the like, in all which shee behaved her selfe so dexte­rously, as no man could judge what sex shee was of, her ability in perfor­ming no way discovering her for a woman; so as her brother ever chus'd and nam'd her above and rather than all the most experimented in Armes. Onely Gradamoro beheld her, and shee him in either of their pure beeing, Erpandro by her neither observed nor regarded, but sleighted and in heart despised.

Ormondo had in so long warres in those cold climes attracted no few in­dispositions; but above all the Goute most tormented him, which made him ever seeke for some diversion, and of them to have recourse to the lesse incommodious, so to be the lesse sensible of his paine. Hee therefore retired to Faria the principall Iland of his kingdome, where the constant perfection of the ayre, the pleasing solitarinesse of the Rocks thereabouts, the singular prospect of it selfe, and neighbourhood of Issa (the most deli­cious of all Ilands) afforded him meanes of no lesse commodious than de­light some entertainment; for, being now become unable to ride, hee had chang'd that exercise to roving from Port to Port in that sinuous Region, which in despite of both tempest and blustring windes is ever constantly calme; thankes to the rampire-like sheltring rocks and cragges, among which (as in a Fish-pond or Weare) are conserved an infinite number of the most delicious and choycest fish of the Sea. The City hath its prospect fully Southward, with a Haven warmly sheltred from the opposite winds, Nature having providently planted neere it a rock that steeds it for both Rampire and Parapet; behinde the Sea-banke stand built the houses, as­cending higher and higher by degrees even almost to the top of an eleva­ted Mountaine, on whose cime stands erected a litle, but well built Castle; which besides its strength, shewes delightfull to the eye, in respect of its being so advantaged by Nature, and embellished by Arts curiosities. The Dwellings spreading from the top to the bottome, and well neere from one point of the Heaven to the other in a lunar forme, seeme to represent a faire and well-proportioned scene.

Issa thence eighteene miles, enjoyes betweene its exquisite sites, large vineyards, and with game-abounding forrests such choyce and variety of contentsome pleasures and delightsome objects, as it is both a sufficient and indeed most fitte place of entertainement for a Prince, who after long toyle and acquired glories, aspires to repose. Besides, her vast Bay capable [Page 180] of receiving exceeding great Armado's, served for a pleasing gulfe, hee there doing for preservation of his health in his Barge that exercise, which others of a more wholsome disposition doe either on foote or horse-back; and the Court being retired hither, their delights increased with the alte­ration and variety of sites.

Gradamoro was (besides his passing well-proportioned bodily feature) by nature endowed with most amiable conditions, so as there was no man that knowing him, lov'd him not. Erpandro on the contrary (with his face all blemished over with pock-holes, of a nature rigid and dogged, and a vaunter withall) was much given to scorne and mock others, and the toy taking him sometimes in the pate to counterfeite Gradamoro in his gentle garbe and quaint demeanour, he did it so misbecommingly, and with ge­stures so unseemely, as made him loathsome to such as saw him act it. If therefore ormondo lov'd him, 'twas for his being a son to so deere a friend of his, for having destinated him for his sonne-in-law, and for not fully nor throughly knowing him; whereas Ladomonte and Deadora who had him ever in their eye, could not endure the sight of him; and therefore en­tertained him alwayes with respect, for keeping him at a distance off their familiarity; but shee above all others could not brooke the sight of him, especially when with sighes and sobbes he would (as pittifully and hand­somely as he could) represent the person of an heart-sick passionate lover; whereas teares though reall, and sighes though unfained, full ill (God wot) became his mouth and cheekes. No one had this poore Prince that set be­fore him a naturall glasse, to see therein his misbecomming carriage; Cour­tiers he had enough that followed him, puft up with an ambition of being trusty to him; but knowing the good opinion he had of himselfe, they still seconded him in his humours, which made him become ever more and more peevish and impertinent.

Gradamoro on the other side, to whom the Graces were Midwives, dis­cretion mother, and the Muses Nurses, had wonne him the hearts of all that knew him, Ormondo lov'd him for his merits, Arnclinda for neerenesse in blood, Ladomonte for friendship, and Deadora for love, shee being re­solved rather to dye than marry Erpandro; at whose appearance she would freeze, and sweate if shee but heard him speake; and indeede to her it seemed wheresoever he was that mirth and discourse gave place to silence and mellancholy: and againe, where Gradamoro but entred, there was no kinde of thing that in her eyes seemed not to rejoyce, the very statues had then tongues, and the walls voyces. How many times (alas) would shee all alone drop from her faire eyes successive showres of brinish teares, in bethinking how to withdraw her selfe from such a husband? How often also made shee her moane there of unto her mother, who whilest she com­forted her with her tongue, lamented her with her heart? Ladomonte much pittied her, and wish'd in his heart to see her freed from him, but yet durst not speake of it, well knowing, that any such proposition, though just, would not be well taken of Ormondo; the match having beene made when as they were as yet in their cradles, and with a friend whom it was not fit he should displease, since neither of them had ever given the other any cause of either distaste or discontent.

No sooner was the gentle Gradamoro arrived in Illirio, and seene the [Page 181] sweetly-majestick Deadora, than that hee rent off the habit of a Cozen: Her beauty accompanied with such singular vertues apparelling him in the finest love that ever lover was cloth'd in; but having heard the story (or perhaps read in the Chronicles) of the stealing away of his Aunt, the warre that thereupon followed, the friendship betweene Ormondo and Ser­pidoro, the marriages and children sprung from them, among whom him­selfe was one, and how that Deadora was firmely promised to Erpandro, he durst no more lift up his eyes, for doubt lest the object of an hopelesse and haplesse love should bring him to a despairing end; during a great course of time endured hee this tormenting paine, without communicating the same to as much as Vnicireo, to whom hee communicated even his very heart, wearying his feeble forces in endeavouring to disburthen himselfe of it; but more potent forces forced him to undergoe its loade, so as af­terwards being used to it, he began to delight in it; or else that being in­visibly eased by Deadora's love, it was consequently easie for him to su­staine a weight of it selfe sweete, with her much sweeter assistance. Love hath in all times beene a cunning warrier, hee durst not assault the generous and chaste heart of Dcadora, ere he had first battered it on both sides, that towards Erpandro with the Ramme-engine of hatred, and that to Grada­moro-wards with hope and affection; hee led on the assault through the ruines of anxious thoughts; and though the fight was no lesse dubious than dangerous, and the Captaine assaylant used to vanquish the stoutest Gods, yet thought he it not the least of his atchievements to conquer such a mayden. And then too shee pensively lamented for such losses that many another would have beene glad of, whereof what judgement to make, I know not; nor can I tell you, whether or no it were, that shee hated her selfe for suffering her resolution to bee overcome, or for loving another with dead and almost impossible hopes.

One morning had the Princes and shee with them runne at the Ring, where after sundry layes, it came by order of carreere to her turne to lay with Gradamoro, and 'twas that the loser should submit himselfe to the discretion of the vanquisher, in whatsoever it should please the same to command the other; shee perhaps would not winne, that so her true losse might be shadowed by this false one at play; or howsoever it was, lose shee did. Gradamoro encouraged by the victory, taking off the Ring, thus accoasts her.

Deere Lady and Cozen, it hath pleased fortune to shew me in this game how exceedingly shee can hate me; shee will that I beare you this Ring, for an other guise one, which to my ineffable content I would more than gladly have given you, had shee beene but pleased to have blessed mee in my swathing-bands as shee hath done others. What by this wager I can pretend (so it stand with your good liking) is, that you would be pleased, that I ever burne for you, and that in such a fire all the remnant of my lives time may blaze out, being resolved, since the Destinies deny me you, ne­ver to have other woman. That golden shaft which is fained to strike through hearts, and impoyson them with love, is no more than an amo­rous word steep'd in the affection of a passionate lover, the one stabbes, the other envenoms; so much teacheth us Deadora, who thereof is both the testimony and example. Vnpossible is it to represent the trouble of [Page 182] minde shee conceived thereat, and the internall commotion of her affe­ctions, spirits, and heart. Anger it was not, for love had expelled that pas­sion: 'twas sure one of those things which cannot be knowne; or (as I by its operation should judge it) an effect of poyson. Answer him shee could not devise how, shee was dumbe to him now, and though shee had known how, yet now wanted shee time for it, the Princes being runne thither to see what Gradamoro meant to command her; who though they came neere of taking them both napping, yet he without losing any whit of his innate vivacity, complaines to them, that the Princesse making use of a maydens priviledge, pretended her-selfe exempt from paying him any thing, invo­king (with that) justice, the Gods, and their assistance, which he expressed with tearmes so pleasing, that Deadora her selfe could not chuse but laugh thereat as well as the others. But come that evening to entertaine her with his company as he was wont to doe, the others being then by chance with the King, shee thus bespeakes him.

Cozen, you were telling me this morning something that I well under­stood not, please you therefore to bee plaine with mee, that I may know whether you be in jest or good earnest? Madame (answered hee) with a Princesse of your condition and merit, and by a person of my quality, and one having withall such a relation to you as I have, full ill becomes jesting in such a subject. I was indeede borne very neere you in blood, but your vertues tyed me yet neerer you in servitude, and your beauty, graces, and merits with an indissoluble knot fast-bound me neerest you of all in love, if loving you bee an offence, then must the being your servant and Cozen be no lesse; and if you judge me worthy of punishment, then must you likewise judge, that your vertues, beauty, and excelling parts deserve to be the first punished: But I beseech you to beleeve (peerelesse Madame) that these (though great) occasions had not (for all that) made mee this day so bold as I was, but that I knew that your nuptialls drew neere, and that Erpandro now expects Ambassadours from his Father for effecting the Matrimony, which if it stand with your good liking, behold me then rea­dy to serve you therein, as I shall in all things else whilest I breathe. If not, then should I thinke my audacity to have beene necessary, and, as such, worthy of both excuse and pardon. Deadora, who at first had determined with her selfe to act the disdainefull coy one, pierced now through the heart with the very mention of that marriage, replied.

Cozen, your boldnesse is every way unexcuseable; for, I being long sithence married, it is not for you to judge whether it be with my liking or not, it behoving mee to subordinate my fancie to my Fathers liking, who commands me. And had you any such thought out of any charity to me-wards, you should then have stripped your selfe of the interesse of your love to your selfe, which adviseth mee not for my good, but for his owne behoofe, and such as (perhaps too) cannot well please mee. My Brother and Vincireo who have not your ends, have not that pity of mee, a signe that your having it is more for your owne sake than mine; therefore know I not, whether or no I ought either to beleeve a person interessed as you are, or make any account of your counsels. But granting they were true, and that I brook'd not such a husband; me-thinkes then you, that exposed the inconvenience, should likewise propose me its remedy. Well knew [Page 183] the warily-observant Gradamoro, that the Princesse's words were not such as they sounded for, and that for well understanding them, it behoved him to make as though he understood them not; wherefore, as one p [...]tent for his presumption, I will not (Madame) answered her he, defend or ex­cuse my over-boldnesse, whilest I pretend both to confesse and crave par­don for it; onely I beseech you, that weighing the occasions that occasi­oned it, you admit it to bee excuse-worthy. Of your obedience to your Father, I neither have, nor meane to speake any disswasive word; well affirme I, that Fathers should be well-advised in their commands, if they will not be disobeyed. For sometimes out of their fatherly priviledge and au­thority, they (without thinking that they doe otherwise than well) pitch upon such resolutions touching their children, which they would not have done, if they had but considered or foreseene their ensueable incon­veniences. Now for the selfe-good-tending ends or interesses that you accuse me of, I am so farre from denying it, that I openly confesse, nay (as it were) proclaime it. Why! beleeve you (sweet Madame) that loves are other than interesses? surely no, love is even an interest or selfe-tending end of satisfying those affects in us, but for whose being there, wee should never be troubled with love; so as when we love, we in loving ever love first our owne affect, and then that which it loves for its owne pleasure. Therefore if you condemne mee for that, then you can doe no lesse than condemne with mee both the World and Nature, the later whereof ha­ving not the power to bee otherwise than such, makes mee that I cannot chuse but love you, whilst I cannot chuse but love mine owne inclination and affect, which entirely loves you.

This said, Gradamoro held his peace; but seeing her make no answer, hee thus proceeded: Next for the counsell which you command mee to give you, I should thinke any advice needlesse to such as meane not to fol­low it. In which regard I should hold it expedient, that you first resolve, whether you will, or will not have the Prince of Thrace, whom if you please to like and accept for your husband, it would be then but superstuous to discourse of what should be done: But in case you will not have him—Scarce had hee pronounced the last accent, when they espyed comming running towards them the three Princes, rejoycing that the King had told them, that within foure moneths space he would have celebrated the nup­tialls of his Daughter with Erpandro, and had by letter signified so much to the King of Thrace to send Embassadours to that end; and withall dis­coursed of the order he would have observed in the solemnities & jousts, and commanded Ladomonte to acquaint his sister with as much. But hee was so discreete, that taking on him to be glad, whereas indeede hee was sorry for it, he would not speake unto her a word thereof before their Co­zens: But taking occasion to conduct her to their Mothers Lodgings, hee then perform'd his Embassie; where with the Princesse stung with an en­venom'd griefe, thus bespeakes him.

My Lord and Brother, you deliver me a message so crosse to my con­tent, as it drawes on me the greatest anguish and hearts-griefe that fortunes utmost spite can inflict on me. I ought to obey my father, (tis true) yet ought my father then give me such a husband as I abhorre not: you are my brother, and as being my onely one, my onely hope in all adverse for­tune. [Page 184] I therefore conjure you to be my protector, and a meanes for break­ing off of this Marriage, which ere ever I consent to, I am resolved (I here vow to you) to dye a thousand deaths. The Prince that tenderly loved her, all-confused in minde thus answered her.

Deere Lady, and deerest sister, I never have nor meane to deny you any thing you aske of mee, which any way tends to your behoofe or content. And in this present occasion, I had (to tell you the truth) rather doe than promise. For (to bee plaine with you) this match never liked mee. My Cozen Erpandro is (indeed) a good Prince, but yet no fit husband for you; I am sorry wee have suffered the disease to have his course for so many yeares without curing or stopping it, since its remedies can at this present prove but slow in operation, if not almost bootlesse. I will worke with my father as much as possibly I can; but wonne he must be by degres, for the affaire is delicate, and yet to handle it gently we are disadvantaged by the brevity of time that precipitates it. I (many times) thought to goe and conferre with my Mother about it; but yet refrain'd, out of the beliefe I had, that shee would never openly declare her selfe opposite to that match, were it but for her love to the King of Thrace, to whom shee stood so highly obliged, when he with my Father conveyed her away from Cy­prus, but would (I am perswaded) beleeve, shee did an act unworthy of the friendship and gratitude shee owed him. More for the present I cannot promise you, but that I am resolved (sithence no other expedient course can be therein taken) to waite for an opportunity to speake of it to the King, who is so discreete and just, as I presume hee will not force you to match against your liking. These considerately-stayed reasons of her brother (whom in all other things shee knew to be most resolute) made Deadora perceive that shee might not relie upon any prevailing offices to her ends in this businesse, considering that to content her, there was a ne­cessity of offending Serpidoro; wherefore having sent for to come to her the Prince of Cyprus, shee thus bespeakes him.

Behold mee now (Cozen) resolved to have none of Erpandro, what therefore (I pray you) is now to bee done? I have thereof spoken to my Brother, and finde him (contrary to his ordinary temper) cold, and seem­ing to despaire of furthering me rather than otherwise; he indeed accuseth mee for not having thereof acquainted him sooner, by occasion of which neglect, the remedy (saith he) is growne to be more difficult, a difficulty which conjoyned to some other considerations may be interpreted an im­possibility: Which being so, it stands me upon to prevent it, for not being constrained to what I am most unwilling to doe.

Gradamoro seeing her now come to the point he wisht for, returnes her this answer. Its remedy (divine Dadame) is easie enough, so you but give way to it: Be pleased to reade over the Annals of the King your Father, whom you know to be so vertuous and valorous, and by that Rule square your deliberations; looke if you can there light on such another case, and then (I am perswaded) that by that time you have considered the modesty and other vertues of my Aunt the Queene your Mother, you will com­prehend, that necessity sometimes tramples upon reason. Inextricable knots (Madame) are not undone but by either cutting or bursting. A Matrimony contracted from the very swathing-bands betweene two Fathers so deere [Page 185] friends, without having beene in so many yeares time any way disavowed by the least opposition of either side (as hath beene discreetely considered by the Prince your Brother) cannot possibly bee broken off without vio­lence; which because it cannot be expected from the King, must needs pro­ceede from you. Your onely way therefore is to steale away, for which you want not a president to imitate. Nay more, the very accident will be adjudged to bee a premeditated plot; revenge done by a blow given, in quittance for a blow received. But this might perhaps rather withdraw you than otherwise, if the so patly-counterhappening of the selfe-same ac­cidents to the very same persons, made not the world beleeve it to bee an effect of divine providence: A document for Fathers to be indulgent to their Children for such faults as themselves are presidents for; which in case you would doe, you should have the advantage of not being followed after, especially if you would resolve to lift mee into heaven, by blessing mee with the title destinated to Erpandro. I (Madame) am of that stocke whence your Mother was stolne away, you the Daughter of him that stole her, the King of Thrace (complice of the delict) his sonne will I rob you of; Vincireo sprung from him whom your Mother was promised to, will accompany me in conducting you to Cyprus not without divine dispo­sing, to the end there might bee by our so rendring like for like confirmed betweene us all an indissoluble bond of perpetuall friendship.

No whit pleased was Deadora with such discourse as this, there spring­ing in her first a suspition, that Gradamoro's love was (as wee say) but from the teeth outwards; and too withall, although shee knew all this before, yet gladly would shee have seemed to have beene ignorant of it, for that shee conceived those historicall considerations of rapes, complicites, de­licts, revenges, disobligements received and requited, rather aggravated than extenuated her fault: Rather could shee have wish'd to have erred in simplicity, without penetrating so maine considerations. But Gradamoro for being of a free nature, suffering himselfe to be wholly guided by affe­ction, quite forgot all circumspection, a quality most necessary in such an affaire, which ministred her an occasion to vent out her passion in these tearmes.

I thought so, that it was nothing but meerely your owne ends that mov'd you, Gradamoro: And though with sophisticall reasons you have endeavoured to make me beleeve the contrary, yet doe you now (against your will) discover it by an affect of meere revenge, taking me to bee so simple as not to conceive you; but assure your selfe that I will neither beleeve you, nor bee ruled by you. But content my selfe to have beene deceived in the good opinion I once conceived of your love, rather than in the false effects of it in a time when my repentance will come too late. Now the Gods keepe mee from being an instrument of such revenge. I will neither marry Erpandro nor follow you, but will rather than do either languish and dye. Whether Gradamoro's griefe were great or no, may bee well conjectured by the unexpectednesse of any such language, nothing avail'd him either arguments, oathes, or teares, all was but vaine, the Mayden-princesse rejecting his reasons in respect of her being fully fraught with jealousie, diffidence, and fury; no remedy then but part needs he must and leave her in that extreamely-passionate moode: And left he [Page 186] had the City too, but for his being in his returne to his lodgings seised on by an excessive coole shivering, accompanied with vomiting and swoun­dings; no fire was there that could warme him; the Physitians ranne to him, the like did the Princes and Queene, yea the King himselfe would be carried to him. A long time lay hee motionlesse, with lither artirs, dead clouded eyes, grinched teeth, and grappled hands; in so much, as there was none, thatby sight thought him not dead, and bemoaned him not. The Queene (who as a childe of her owne deerely tendred him) was even heart-broken with griefe for him. The King sollicited the Physitians for fresh Pittims and new Cordialls, but nothing avail'd him, since they pene­trated not into the nature of the disease, nor its true occasion; Ridden hee had and danced too that morning, but without excesse, exercises to him ordinary: Dined he had too, but yet sparingly, repletion and disorder had no place in him. Deadora seeing him in such a plight, too late now repen­ting her being the causer of it, taking him by the hand warm'd it betweene hers, calling to him with so many throbs and teares, that happy he, had he but seene them: Nor did such demonstrations any way impeach the reser­ved modesty of her sex, their neernesse in blood, education, and domestick amity sufficiently priviledging her so to doe. At length hee came to him­selfe, just in that time when litle better than abandoning him for dead, e­very ones thoughts were busied more about his funerall than life; for now the King, Queene, Princesse, and Princes were all of them parted save onely Vincirco, who staid behinde with the Physicians, and was now set a weeping over him as dead. The King having notice thereof, returned with the rest, and finding him laid in warme cloathes in a feaverish fit, shaking every joynt of him, he began to hope the best of him: And because the throng of Courtiers that came in with him might not disturbe his cure, he tooke them all againe out with him, leaving there onely the Queene with Deadora: The former where of being told by the Physicians, that the ac­cident proceeded from some great oppression of the heart, much marvey­led thereat, for that shee had observed him to be ever merry; yet beleev­ing that some internall humour falling on that part, had caused that acci­dent, shee ranne to her lodgings for a most delicate paste made for that pur­pose, leaving with him her daughter and Vincireo. Shee seeing the Physi­tians retired, and her selfe all alone with Vincireo, whom shee cared not for concealing her selfe from, accoasting his bed-side, cures the wound given by the weapons of her former sharpe, by the balme of these her milder words.

My Princely Lord and deerest Cozen (said shee) I confesse my selfe faulty, and pronounce my selfe most worthy of chastisement, for having beene (against all reason) the cause of endangering your life, by bringing you thus to deaths doore. I confesse, yea I now from my soule confesse your interesses to be full of love, and most worthy of being really corre­sponded with an equall affection; Behold mee here now (my endeer'd Lord) most ready to make you plenary amends; Cheere then up your selfe (I beseech you) for loe I am disposed and immutably resolved to goe whithersoever you please. Banish then from you all melancholy, since I am ever yours, and never will be any others; which that you might be the more assured of, I have not (you see) abhorr'd the testimony of the Prince [Page 187] of Pontus your Cozen and mine here present; which shee expressed with an affection so sincerely-ardent, as both amazed Vinciero, and restor'd Gra­damoro to life. It is naturall for an oppressed heart to disgorge in teares (in the very instant of its being eased) that maligne humour that suffocated it; a token of health, and a signe that Melancholy departing leaves roome and way for joy to enter. Right so befell it now the Prince of Cyprus, hee stood a good while, taking first the Princesse's hands betweene his, and distilling rivulets of teares out of the fountaines of his eyes, and then affe­ctionately kissing them, return'd her this answer.

I know not (incomparable Madame) when I shall be ever able to serve you, conformable to the great obligation to your more than excelling courtesie. You (Madame) cannot be faulty where you have soveraigne power, nor bee subject to punishment, whereas you sway the scepter over all the lawes of my affections. Your nobly vouchsafing to comprehend in the better sense my interesses, and out of your goodnesse to accept them in good worth, is to me a supreame favour; but your benignely daigning to correspond them surpasseth even all expectation of mine, much more the slendernesse of my merits: so as I am so farre unable from really requi­ring your nobly-obliging favours by deeds, as I cannot finde apt words to expresse or acknowledge them. For the rest, could I but have thought, nay hoped, that the King your Father, upon any earnestly-sollicitous Embassie of mine, could have beene wrought to bestow you on mee, I then would (I protest unto you) never have presumed to have preposed you your flight: but being promised as you are, alas! what likelihood is there for you to have (by his consent) other husband than Erpandro? And the ex­ample of your mother that I proposed you, with the revenge that there­upon ensued, were never by mee intended for arguments to perswade you (since I knew them farre from being availeable in that behalfe) but to shew you, how by them you might assure your selfe, that your resolution should be lesse blamed and censured. Besides, that I pretend not to robbe what's any other mans; for so you (Madame) be but pleased to make me (by your noble assent) but worthy, I will marry you ere wee part, to the end our faults (if such they be) may seeme by so much the lesse in the eyes of both heaven and the world. The Princesse resolved both to felicitate and cure him, here thus interrupts him. Well, my Lord, to the end you may see, that there is no neede of justifications, behold me here at your disposure, therefore (so you be therewith pleased) marry me (a-Gods-name right now in the presence of your Cozen here; who astonished to see them at that point without imparting any inckling thereof to him till then, taking off his finger a rich Diamond, (Gradamoro having then no Ring ready) reached it him to marry her therewith, as instantly he did; remitting the rest to another time.

The Physicians being called, found his pulse at a good passe, and the Queene come, he would needs take what shee brought him, to make her the Authresse of his health, and then got out of his bed the day following so healthsome and blithsome, as if he had not beene sick at all. But then Vincireo could not forbeare from taxing him with discourtesie for the small signe of love he shewed him in this occasion of making use of him; When he craving him pardon, told him, that at first he had concealed it with out [Page 188] knowing himselfe the reason why, (having entred into this businesse be­yond all expectation) and that afterwards doubting that hee would have disswaded him, he was confirmed in his silence, judging it a lesser evill to offend by concealing his affection, than after communicating it, not to fol­low his counsell, or be in some way ruled by him. And being thereupon demanded, how he meant to carry the businesse, now that his resolution had excluded all other either deliberation or counsell? He answered, that on the very day wherein the King had spoken of the Marriage and solemn feasts, to be kept in honour of its solemnization, he had dispatched (as he also knew) a fleete pinnace for Cyprus, under pretext of fetching him all necessaries requisite for his appearing at the jousts, giving a-part secret command to the Admirall to send him a Galley re-enforced with all those advantages that such a Vessell might have: And that having therewithall written unto his Father, to send him a good number of the best Knights of the kingdome to appeare with him in the Tourney, the Galley would come strongly furnish'd with men of warre, without giving either here or there the least occasion of suspect: That assoone as that Galley were arri­ved, he went to embarke the Princesse and him, and so passe all three of them over into Cyprus.

Erpandro likewise in the selfe-same time had by land dispatch'd a Poste into Thrace, with newes to his Father of what was concluded on, praying him to send with all possible conveniencie, Embassadours for the Cere­mony, provisions for him, and Iewells for his Bride, whom he thought to conduct home through Macedon, upon considering with himselfe, or being advised by his Councell, that being accustomed to ride and curious to see, shee would receive more gust from such a sight by land, and that prospect of the Iland by Sea, than from the savage-growne, or rather devasted Countrey of the Dardans and Triballs, nor yet recovered or well re-civi­lized since the last warre. Requesting therefore his Father to bee pleased to send him halfe a dozen of well-furnisht Galleyes, to expect him the far side of the Istmus, in which might be also embarked a troupe of Ladies to come meete the Princesse, and wayte on her in her voyage. Requiring also safe-conduct of such of his confederate Princes and Kings, whose Coun­tries he was to passe through.

The two Cozens received speedily from their severall Fathers the ac­complishment of their particular requests, there arriving unto the one his Galley, and to the other his Embassadours hard about the selfe-same time. Meane time Deadora begins now to shew her-selfe openly disgusted, that her Father had never spoken word to her touching this businesse, as though the same no way concern'd her. Whereas indeede the good King suppo­sed there was no neede thereof, conceiving that shee could not but bee therewith well pleased, since the first thing that shee knew after her com­ming into the world was her being a married wife, and yet never shew'd her-selfe thereto disassenting: besides, his presuming, that shee was suffi­ciently told thereof by her Mother and Brother. The day of the Embas­sadours arrivall, having sent for her to him, he in Erpandro's presence pre­sented her them as their Princesse. But shee received them coldly, and without as much as once looking towards Erpandro: Retired soone after­wards that they were from out of the Presence Chamber, he asked her [Page 189] why shee shewed her selfe so strange. Because I was surpriz'd at unawares (answered shee) without knowing either whose the Embassadours were, or wherefore come. Well understood Ormondo that this answer aymed at him, yet not conceiving that it contained any sense more important, but well liking that her smart generosity, and smiling thereat, (kissed her that he had in the forehead) he dismissed her to her lodgings. Already was it murmured over the Court, that such a marriage pleased her not, upon ob­serving, that (the Embassadours being come, and the solemnization of the marriage published to bee within eight dayes space) shee made no answer to such as wish'd it might prove much joyfull unto her, and that her Mo­ther-selfe could not draw one word out of her that concluded her assent; but yet her making (of the other side) no shew of being mellancholy, gave no suspition that shee meant to reject him with a flat deniall. Towards her pretended husband shee carried her selfe as shee was wont to doe before, in the tearmes of a kinswoman, calling him cozen, smiling on him if he but spake of love without giving him any answer.

Mane times had the Queene observed the reciprocall inclinations be­tweene her Nephew Gradamoro and her Daughter, and hartily would wish to her selfe, they could have beene match'd together, yet discovered shee not so much (for all that) as to come to know such an affection in its true essence. For, being Cozens and bred up together in the very same exerci­ses, and withall like in conditions, and therefore deerely-esteeming each other, there might to their familiarity and love be well afforded other pri­viledged pretexts than a downe-right reciprocall affection. Onely Prince Ladomonte, who for being by nature of a deepe penetrating judgement, observed more than the rest, might best of any other light on the right, sorrowing that the effect confirmed not his suspition, from his soule could he have wisht that the Galley of Cyprus had beene a new Taurus, and his sister another Europa; for hee loving her hartily, was sorry to see her match'd against her will, affect he did Gradamoro exceedingly, Gradamoro tendring him no lesse deerely, so as the great love betweene them seemed to require a greater tye of alliance, were it but to have a lesser with Erpan­dro. Meane while the eight dayes began to runne the course of their expi­ration, the City being all over busied in working, and more than halfe of it meerely employed for the Prince of Cyprus, who sending for all the choy­cest silkes of Persia, and all the rarest inventions of Greece and Egypt, made all beleeve that he thought of nothing else, than to appeare with more sumptuous curiosity, and curious pompe than all the rest. Retired hee was into the shady valley betweene the Cittadell and the opposite Mountaine behinde the City, where having erected his Pavilions, hee did day after other nothing else than try himselfe with Ladomonte in the lists, at barriers, on foote, and on horseback; sometimes hand to hand, otherwhiles ac­companied, being both of them by Ormondo assigned to be maintainers of the lists. Seldome was he seene in Deadora's company for continuing his abode without; and chancing to meete her, hee discoursed with her of nothing else save horses and liures, giving thereby all men occasion to con­jecture that hee dream't of nothing else, leaving wholly to Vincireo's dis­creete care the ordering and appointing of both the time and manner of their flight.

[Page 190] Foure of the eight dayes terme being expired, the Galley launch'd out of the Port, under pretext of going to take in fewell, yet at night returned without making any noyse, and rode without the point at randome. The Princesse gotten out at the garden doore well arm'd, found there the two Princes that stood expecting her, whence taking the outmost way through difficult passages full of grubs and cragges, they got to the sea-side, and there found a long-boate wherewith they embarked themselves; and then suddenly the Galley steered a maine speede towards the East, as it stood her indeede upon, it being but two houres before day, the night then of the shortest, and the lightsome Planet signing its circle a litle wide from the line of our Tropick. Gradamoro had remov'd well neere all his family to his pavilions in the valley, where they also were often wont to lodge, so as it was easie for him to get them embarked unperceived of any, lea­ving for his wardrope and stable their Officers whom he could not com­modiously provide for in the valley.

Deadora's Bed-chamber-woman used constantly to enter very earely into her Chamber, and softly opening the windowes for ingresse of the fresh morning ayre, to returne to bed againe without awaking her. That morning on the breake of day going to doe the same, shee espyed the bed empty, but then not beleeving her eyes, shee (for more assuring her of the truth) felt with her hand, but found her not, for shee was not there; yet gave shee not her selfe over (for all that) to scritches and cries, because shee knew not what the matter might be. Entred into the Closet (whereof her Mistresse selfe was wont to keepe the key) then wide open, shee might there see wanting her Armes and sword. Yet could shee not imagine how shee could clothe her selfe, all her apparell being (assoone as shee was stript of them) usually carried into a back-withdrawing Chamber, and not thence brought back againe till shee listed to cloathe her selfe; which as shee stood musing on, there came to her minde Vincireo's twice comming thither, and carrying with him (by a Page) a Fardle involv'd in Taffata Sarcenet, and that come to the Chamber, he had taken it out of his hand to give it himselfe to the Princesse, so as no body else knew what it was; she now imagines they were mans cloathes, but fixing a more observant eye on all the corners about her, shee might espie on a litle by-table many letters sealed, To the King, the Queene, and the Prince, with the three seve­rall Seales of Illirium, Cyprus, and Pontus. By this certaine of the fact, and terrified with the likelihood of her being suspected for a Complice, shee would have fled, if shee had knowne whither or how. Till assured by her conscience, and the improbability of her staying behinde them, had shee beene such, shee held it her best course to bring the Queene the let­ters. The Maydes of honour marvayling that shee desired to speake with her at such an houre, could not resolve to goe to disturbe her rest, till upon her importuning them with solemne protestations, they at length ventured to awake her. Shee without speaking ever a word to her, presented her the letters, which the Queene knowing by the Seales all-amazed opened, reading in that of her Daughter (which was the first) the resolution taken for which shee craved her humble pardon, shewing her punctually the rea­sons that induced her to doe it. Reading afterwards that of her Nephew, and the other, shee compressing her teares, hies her to her husbands lod­gings, [Page 191] who intending to aske her what shee made there at so rathe an houre, forbare his speech upon receit of the letters. He first began to reade Dea­dora's, but had not the patience to reade the reasons, having read the reso­lution; speake he would in all haste with the Gentlewoman of her Cham­ber, but was never a whit more satisfied by her; and what more could in­deed by the strictest examinations or more diligent inquiry be learnt in it, since their being fled and gone was the first and last newes of it?

A good while stood Ormondo in a muze, as not used to bee transported with the sudden fury of any passion; and then discreetly weighing the case, with calling to minde how himselfe had done as much, and conside­ring withall, that his Daughter had made a better choyce for her selfe with the time, than he could have assigned her before the time, he both pacified himselfe and consolated the Queene, so as nothing else now trou­bled him, save the injury done Serpidoro, which he knew not how to make him amends for. But calling to minde, that hee alone was with him at stealing the Queene away, he thereupon said; Our Daughter and Ne­phewes (wife) have erred, but yet we must beare with them, since 'tis im­possible that they have not looked into our lives, and that our example hath not emboldened them. Here sending for Ladomonte, he gave him his letters: By this time amazement being past, and reason return'd to its pro­per seate of residence, the King was no whit displeased at the change of his sonne-in-law. The Queene (likewise) was glad thereof, and the Prince exceeding joyfull, was by his Father commanded to acquaint therewith Erpandro, who was like to grow wilde at it. Hee ranne to the King and Queen, and then finding no Galleyes ready in the Haven, would have leapt into the Maine, and swome to overtake the fled-away Vessell. But that re­membring-himselfe of the Galleyes that rode expecting him at Peloponc­sus, & that riding-poaste he might get thither before Gradamoro; be moun­ted on horse-back and ranne poaste thitherward night and day. Arrived he sent one of them to Zacinthus to espie if the other were passed, and was joyed at the heart when (at her returne) he understood, that shee was with a long prospective-glasse descried to be so farre discoasted, as a good sight not interposed by the curvity of the Globe might discerne, and that shee would be more than a day a comming, calculating the slow course shee had steer'd sithence the time of her setting out. And that there was placed on the Iland of Cithera a Centry, who upon her comming by night (which for certaine would not be, shee sayling not by night by the proportion of their account) should give notice by fire, and by day with smoake: So as it behoved him to transport himselfe presently to Capo Melio for being there ready to assayle her.

Erpandro approv'd of that counsell, and launching from out the Pro­montory, at the smoake hee descried from Cithera, met and fought with her with very bad successe: For, notwithstanding his advantage of so ma­ny Galleyes, he was (in his very owne) by the Princesse her selfe fought withall, beaten downe, and taken prisoner, whilst two of his Galleyes were burnt, and the rest retired. But drest and cured with all possible di­ligence, visited, consolated, and opportunely perswaded to reason and pa­tience by Vincirco, he not onely grew to be pacified, but also upon calling to minde the passages betweene their fathers no lesse considerately than [Page 192] discreetly conceiv'd, he had no occasion to find himselfe agreev'd: Where­upon licensing the Galleyes that made after to recover him, hee wrote to his Father, praying him not to be displeased for what had happened, since he (for his part) would conserve himselfe in the ancient love and favour of his Cozens, and be present at the solemnizing of the nuptialls, judging himselfe fortunate, to have missed the marrying a woman that lov'd him not; especially considering his being withall confident, that at his returne, King Ormondo would not faile to give him insteed of this Cecromma the o­ther Daughter. Arrived in Cyprus, they were received by the King with great joy and triumph; who would needs prolong the solemnities already commenced, and send Embassadours into Illirium, Thrace, and Pontus, who successefully obtained so much of the offended as not to pretend them­selves such, and conformable to his expectation, Cecronima insteed of Deadora. Ladomonte causing to be embarked both his and his brother-in­lawes preparations destined for the festivall solemnities of Faria, com­manded they should be brought after him to Cyprus, where he in a choyce Galley arrived in a few dayes space, entirely welcomed and honoured with all affectionate respects, conformable to the passing love they bare him. Nor waite they for now towards the celebration of the festivalls for ought else save the things embarked, so as we shall come time enough to see them, being they are to bee kept at Pafo neere the famous Temple of Venus, whither they are all of them reduced to thanke the Goddesse for so prosperous an issue of these affaires.

Polimero had heard talke of Ormondo and his great exploits long be­fore, which made him now very glad to heare his disgusts thus terminated by so pleasing an alliance, the old passage taking from him all occasion of revenge. And right joyfull was Lindadori, to light on by the way so so­lemne jousts; hope also shee did, that her Father would dispence with his haste to be acquainted with those Princes, shee being more especially de­sirous to see Deadora, and to try her selfe at Armes with her. But so it be­fell them, that neither Polimero had occasion to displease her, nor shee op­portunity of working her owne content; for the sea swelled into such ex­traordinary billowes, for being over-blowne with the rage of a tearing winde, that the Pilot was forced with haling the tack a-boord to strike a hull, and lash sure the helme a-lee, till gaining the winde a-sterne, he was faine to ease the Vessell with a small Trinket saile fastned to her Maine-yard, so as shee now carried on with an excessive violence outranne the course, and leaving on the right hand Cyprus, could not possibly choose but passe to Creete, where with much adoe they made a shift to get a-shore.

Greatly steeded this Tempest Polimero by advancing him much on his way, besides the pleasure he tooke at his Daughters anger, and her cha­fing at the sea and windes; yet that accident afforded her another way, that which fortune had denied her for contenting her martiall humour. For that time the kingdome of Creete stood afflicted by a warre litle otherwise than civill, divided into factions, every one attempting to effect his owne peculiar ends under pretext of the publicke good, an ordinary maske wherewith the most seditious are wont to cover the true face of their a­ctions.

Virate King of Crecte left behinde him three sonnes, whereof Cretaneo [Page 193] the eldest inherited the Crowne: the other twaine being accommodated with two of the goodliest and richest Dukedomes of the whole Iland, Re­stargo with the faire Dutchy of Cidone, and with that of Ritinna Riverargo. Now Cretaneo was a good Prince, a lover of Philosophy, and in it so plun­ged, as hee conceited to make by its direction both himselfe and his king­dome happy; yet never philosophiz'd he, that Kings may well be capable of Philosophy, but not Philosophers of kingdomes: For then had he learnt, that Kings ought (for well ruling) to be formed of vertues more reall than philoso­phicalll, and that these without those ruine such as owne them. Disposed then for conveniencie's cause to marry, and hearing famed for beauty the Princesse of Caria being a neighbouring kingdome, he sends thither Re­stargo, beleeving, that Carito's King would willingly grant her him, for being demanded by so great an Embassadour as his brother, whom he al­lowed a great traine of followers, and store of monies; to the end he might carry himselfe both like a personage of his ranke and quality, and confor­mable to the greatnesse of him that sent him; an ordinary custome in those Countries not to concede men wives, till they bee first for some while wooed and served by the pretenders, and (if they be Princes) by Embassa­dours in their steede.

This Princesse was (over and besides her beauty and comely feature) an onely childe, and by consequence heire apparant to the Caritan Crowne; In which regard Restargo allured by the occasion of gaining himselfe a Crowne, forgetting both his allegeance and trust reposed in him, did that office for himselfe, which hee should have done for his brother; whom whilst with false letters he held in hand with more false hopes, 'twas easie for him (malignely procuring to be brought to the King of Caria's eares passing bad relations of Cretanco) to get his daughter for himselfe: Having wonne all the Courtiers with the prodigall effusion of his brothers trea­sure. Cretanco thus injur'd, without making shew of being angry thereat, excused it with his wonted facility, judging it (in respect of its occasions) pardonable, upon discoursing within himselfe, that interesses of preferment make men (if they be not profest in the habit of vertue) from very good to become exceeding bad; yet knew he how to be so much angry (for all that) as to forbid him for comming ever more in his sight, and that become now successor of a kingdome, he should keepe him within its limits, without venturing to returne into Creete: For the rest, he neither medled with his patrimoniall Dominions, nor came to those termes, whereto justly incen­sed Kings are wont to come to.

Restargo making no account of words, rather confident of his brothers lenity than timorous of his justice, forgetting his being forewarned, grew desirous three yeares after (Cretaneo being by then married) to passe over into Creete; ambitious (it should seeme) of being there honoured above the ranke of the first Peere of the blood Royall, in the quality of a Sove­raigne Prince, and in his time King. But no sooner was he come, than that the prison was his lodging, where he remained seven yeares, the King and Princesse of Caria proving all the while unprevailing suppliants for his freedome. The seventh yeare being past, it seeming good to Riverargo to intercede for him, he without any difficulty prevailed, King Cretaneo being by then weary, if not halfe-sorry for having contrary to his nature retain'd [Page 194] his colour for so long a time, thinking that justice became now cruelty, and that the revenge exceeded the injury, especially in a brother; not consi­dering (as he should have done) that his brother had his affects corrupted, and that such a man as had beene once wicked, should be ever presupposed to be such. Restargo insteede of repenting (waxen now more wicked than before) provides in a few dayes from Caria in small disordered companies a good band of men, besides those of his owne State, and knew so well how to doe ill, that deposing his brother from his Royall Throne, he put him in the very same prison that he had kept him seven yeares in, and then sending for (together with his wife) new forces, he assumed the title of Governour with his other brother, affirming the King to be unable to go­verne, speculations having brought him to be now dotish and good for no­thing.

The seven yeares being past, Riverargo thinking to obtaine of Restargo for Cretaneo such liberty, as Cretaneo had before granted him for Restargo, mov'd him earnestly for it; but where two natures are different, 'tis certaine that their effects cannot but be unlike; Which we may heare confirmed by the example of Restargo, who judging Riverargo's pitty to be too-too-ten­der, shewed him; That in setting him at liberty, he should commit a fourth errour, whilst the three former (one his, and Cretanco's two) pointed at it so apparantly. His, when building on his brothers over-good nature, hee came and put himselfe like a sheepe into his hands. Cretaneo's first, when depriving him of his liberty, he bereav'd him not also of his life; and the other, that he restored him to the one without taking away the other: yet that having then err'd both of them without a precedent example, they were in some sort excuse-worthy; but that now a fourth errour would be altogether inexcusable, and yet more especially this of his, for offending so grossely against the rule of the former three. Offend he should against the first, in relying againe on that good nature, which he had already found passionate in a case of a lesse offence; and also expose himselfe against the second and third with danger of life, having at both their costs learnt, That fierce beasts will not endure the goade's pricking, but must be either pierced quite through, or not touch'd at all. Nay though it so were not, yet even common sense taught him, that a person injured never pardons, unlesse he be either extraordinarily good, or irrevocably foolish. Now he but too well knew, that Cretaneo was no foole though they indeed made of him such; nor yet that good natured man they tooke him for, having beene so con­stantly wedded to his anger for seven yeares space. And 'though yet he were as good-natur'd as man can be yet were it bad relying on it, since a man is chang'd in an instant, especially where the Clock of good nature hath for counterpoyses passions and injuries. Besides, that he should not lose the quality of good, Revenge in Kings writing it selfe in great Chara­cters IVSTICE. With such reasons, he not onely satisfied, but terrified Riverargo, but more especially by making him comprehend himselfe to be a complice in the fault, for having (of his owne proper authority) enti­tled himselfe Governour, perswading him therefore to governe thence­forwards with the title no more of Governours, but of Kings. Agreed on't, they consecrated in Mount Ida Priest to Iove, Lascaro onely sonne to Cretaneo, and causing him to renounce his pretences both to the Crowne [Page 195] and all worldly things else, they necessitated him to flie; For, being (for his pusillanimity) hated of his fathers friends, he not onely wanted the things necessary for his lives sustenance, but had also his feares increased in such a manner, that suspecting to be one day ill intreated, he went his way whither no newes was ever sithence heard of him.

Meane while the two Kings commanded equally, and caused money to be coyned under their stampes, images, and names, writing themselves Kings over all; till such time as Restargo desirous to reigne alone, told the other, That the people could not brooke two Kings, a novelty (to speake the truth) monstrous and examplelesse: That he therefore had designed to take for his part the Dukedomes of Cidone and Ritinna united, and leave to his brother solely both the Kingdome and Royall Title, so to prevent with the disgust the insurrection of the people. But Riverargo (a lover of ease) thinking the both States equalled both the title and kingdome, advantaged with the being freed from the weight of government, answered him; that it was no reason, that he being the youngest should remaine solely King, the eldest excluded: In which respect, since an unity was so necessary, he was content to accept of the two States, and cede him the kingdome. Re­stargo then being proclaimed King, there was no more tidings heard of Cretaneo, followed a litle after by the new King, who left both his life and kingdome: Him succeeded Caricreto his onely sonne, but being cockred up by his Mother in passing bad customes, odious to the Subjects, together with the domination of the Carians to them insupportable, they banish'd him, and chose for their King Riverargo, taking the occasion of his then absence, as being conducted by his Mother to Caria, to be thereof crowned King, his Grandfather by then being dead: And now he pretends as his patrimony the kingdome of Riverargo, and with the favour of his Fathers servants moves warre against him, publickely complaining to all of the wrong he did him, by him not denied, in case Caricreto had beene sonne to Cretaneo and not to Restargo; alleadging, that Restargo was no King buta Tyrant, for depriving Cretaneo of the priviledge first of Nature, in taking from him his wife; next of the Law in usurping his Crowne, and lastly of humanity in causing him to dye in the miserable lothsomnesse of a close & nastie prison. And that he (for his part) was freely elected King by the States of the Realm without any sinister practice or corruption. And there­fore, that if he were to lay downe the Crowne, it should then be to restore it to Cretaneo's, but not to Restargo's sonne. In these confusions stood then that goodly kingdome, battered by the armes of the Carians, supported by many Barons, with an intention, when they had deposed Riverargo to chase away afterwards the Mother and Sonne, and so to carry away from the publick calamities private emoluments, making themselves Masters of both the money and Royall authority in those Provinces, wherein obe­dience was denied Riverargo, whereas Caricreto was but in a shew obeyed neither.

Polimero with his companions setting foote on ground, without know­ing any thing from these confusions, (leaving the Knight of Cyprus sicke a-boord the ship) tooke their way to a hill-wards, to see if they might thence descry any habitation. Come thither that they were, they found on the other side of it an ambush of fifty horse, who asking them (after the [Page 196] military wont) who liv'd? and receiving no answer, suddenly assail'd them. Lindadori that had with impatience long'd for tourneyes, jousts, and barriers, was (missing of these) beyond all expression joyfull to light so unexpectedly on a battell; so as without staying for any other to give her example by leading the way, shee furiously forced her passage into the mid'st of that Troupe, neither considering nor caring for the advantages of the site, but necessitating the others to follow, either to free her, or dye with her: But the valorous effects corresponded to the mayden's undaun­ted heart.

These folkes had scowr'd the field all that night, got good store of bootyn, ruined houses, and burnt Villages; yet of all their spoyles the noblest was Ermestea daughter to the Baron of Manetusa, among the faire ones of Creete the fairest, and among the noblest the flowre of that Coun­trey. The Souldiers stood now a watching her; for though shee was ex­ceedingly afflicted, yet had now the extreame wearinesse of her body in so long and incommodious a journey given truce to the affliction of her spirit, and procur'd her sleepe, though interrupted by her waking griefe, and hardnesse of the bed, easie onely in that part that her teares had soft­ned. And now at the sound of Lindadori's thundering blowes she awooke, started up, broke the truce with griefe, and confederated with hope, who placing himselfe as her guard in the bulwarke of her brest, boldly defen­ded her (though with much adoe) against the assaults of her cruell enemy [Feare]; yet was shee hurried againe neere the gastly precipice of de­spaire, when she saw her selfe remounted on horse-back by the Souldiers, to convey her farther on, under the conduct of some fifteene of them, but that suspension tormented her not long. For Lindadori imagining her by her teares to be a prey of those people, ranne thither alone forcing to fight them, who in respect of their being so many, made an account to exempt themselves from the necessity of sharing of the battell. Off cuts shee at first blow the hand of him that held her by the bridle, and him that at lift­ing her into the saddle, was suddenly so taken with her, as hee could not forgoe his hold of the skirt of her coate, shee passed with a thrust through the heart, so as one wound was cured by the other. A certaine experi­ment, that the weapon's stabbes cure those of love. Eromena seeing her daugh­ter inconsiderate in all dangers, as resolutely followed her, and slaying some of them, both shee and her daughter were constrained to retire to the hillock, closely pursued by above twenty of the Enemies; the whole company (leaving the prisoners and baggadge) now facing towards the assailers, thinking they did no small act, if they but defended themselves united together.

Polimero seeing his wife and daughter in such a plight, was raging-mad that he could not come to releeve them for the wall of so many men that stood in his way, whilst Don Elcimos had the fortune to open it of his side (where was lesse throng) with the death of one of them, whence he ranne and laid at their backs, himselfe being no otherwise strucken at by such as pursued him at the heeles. Polimero by this time lesse charged, and by the good old Count of Bona valiantly assisted, made such havock of the rest, as that he gained the passage; and running to rescue his company, made a shift betweene him and the Count to ease them of foure, by them slaine [Page 197] ere they were aware of their comming; yet too much would they have had to doe though, if fortune had not by another meanes favoured them; for the souldiers being hardy, well armed, and resolved either to save their prey or dye, never thought of running away, their horses being all laden with pillage; and although they had lost many of their company, yet had they so many left as they hoped to get the best of their Adversa­ries, by worrying if not vanquishing them. And so had it by all proba­bility befallen them, if the faire Ermestea (gotten loose and flying backe the way whence shee was led) had not met a Knight, who hearing she was taken away, was comming with a good troupe of horse to rescue her. Vn­derstanding how shee was fled away, and that too, rather to goe finde out some to ayde the five Knights, than to save her selfe, she hastily return'd to shew him the place, whence they might heare the cries and blowes ere they descried the Combatants; this assault quite ruined the souldiers first hopes, now that they were assail'd by two parties; the rescuing Knight having the edge of his valour sharpned with revenge and anger against those men, insomuch, as he was loath to receive into his mercie such of them as yeelded themselves unto him, judging that such deserv'd no faire quarter, which warred against women, beauty, and their merits.

Ermestea alighting off her Steede, ranne to the Knights, whom shee could not finde sufficient conceits to expresse her beholdingnesse unto, a thing ordinary for a gratefull minde to suffocate it selfe in words, by en­deavouring to make them serve for erres of the effects it thinkes it selfe tied to performe. But to Lindadori above all the rest strove she to acknow­ledge a greater obligation, to whose lot befell the being the more effica­cious (if not the prime) cause of her deliverance: Wounded they were all five, so as Carasio's hands had wherewithall to employ them, but with such felicity, that as no one of them had any dangerous wound, so was there as few of them that any way bemoaned their paine. But Lindadori more shrewdly wounded than the rest, and being in respect of both her age and sex more tender and delicate, wrought amazement in all that con­sidered, how shee, being in all things else over-sensitive and impatient, was yet in her sufferings even insensible, and farre from bemoaning her selfe or troubling any body. Very importunate was Ermestea to have them home with her: But Polimero (considering that the courtesies of such per­sonages had no limits of time, and how much it stood him upon to hold on his way, his affaires admitting of no delay) fairely excus'd himselfe, yet with assuring her, that to doe her service he would have omitted all busi­nesses of his owne. But sithence this was but meerely in consideration of themselves, they were necessitated (without losse of time) to passe further. But the owner of the ship not yeelding to any perswasions of passing them any farther, his Vessell being fraighted for Cyprus, they were forced to accept of the invitation, for being constrained to furnish themselves of a new Vessell. Satisfying then the Marriners, and taking their leave of the sick Knight, (by whom the Count fail'd not to excuse himselfe by letter to Gradamoro and Deadora) they mounted on horse-back, Ermestea causing the booty to be brought back to be restored to its owners. And then after having released the prisoners, setting on a round pace homewards, whom might shee meete a litle onwards but the Baron her Father, that with two [Page 198] hundred horse came running after the track of those that had stolne her a­way, whose joyes were now by so much the greater, by how much they were lesse expected.

The wounded Knights were accommodated at their ease with Cham­bers neere one another, as they had desired; and served with such respe­ctive diligence, as if they had beene knowne for what they were. Polimero not neglecting to sollicite for a new passage, wherein for doubt of displea­sing him Ermestea fail'd him not. Newes came (the meane while) that the nuptialls were celebrated in Cyprus with great solemnity, the flawes in friendship occasioned by new injuries being sodred up by the old affronts, and both reduced to a confirm'd friendship by a new realliance. And for domestick affaires; That King Riverargo by a great defeate given the Ca­rians, had totally chased them from Creete; that Caricreto was thence fled, his men slaine, the field sack'd, foure Barons beheaded, the Rebels hung up on trees in such places as they chanced to be taken in; All newes, that to the house of Ermestea brought incredible consolation, it having ever ta­ken part with the royall side, whereof who-so knowes not how to bee, knowes how to perish. Cromeno (the Knight that had releev'd them) was he that brought them these newes, having (when he had conducted them to the house) taken leave of them to goe and make one in the battell which he knew was to be presented the Enemies. The Count of Bona had some while before related to the Princes the story of Corianna, and praid them to touch at Ericusa, and thereupon had that suite of his without any great difficulty granted him; for which end there was provided them a Vessell for that part.

Ermestea in the meane time had observed and perceived the counterfei­ted sex of the two Princesses, whereupon shee en quired thereof further of Lindadori, who could not conceale from her her condition, obtaining in recompence thereof her promise to come to Sardinia to see her, of whose company shee was already so enamoured, as she could never be from her: Which observed by her lover Cromeno, occasioned him to assay the sharpe stings of poysoned jealousie. Return'd he was from the Campe, and for enjoying Ermestea's company frequented the house, entertaining the un­knowne Princes with respective observance for finding in them conditions surpassing any contrary affect, jealousie not depriving him of his inclina­tion to their merits. But the two young Ladies taking notice of his passio­nate sufferings made it their pastime. And although Ermestea, that truly loved him, had indeed compassion of him; yet could she not (for all that) forbeare from heart-vexing him for the nonce, with the favours which boldly without shewing him any respect, shee did every day more than o­ther to Lindadori. A passe that put him (poore Gentleman) to ruminate on strange thoughts; since although himselfe was now favoured as he was wont to be, yet saw he a rivall before his face as good as courted, and that in such a manner too, that she seem'd to hold it lawfull for her so to doe. Sometime it would come to his minde to speake to her of it, but then seeing her with a pleasing and smiling countenance slip away from him, he knew not what to judge of it, especially when shee would (which was yet worse) as shee thus fled from him, runne directly to Lindadort, who discovering the businesse to her Mother, made her a third participant of their pastime. [Page 199] Yet this sport lasted but a few dayes, for the ship being furnished of its necessaries and the horses embarked, they tooke their leave. Ermestea seeming to be dissolved into teares for so hard a separation, and confirming her promise of going to see them assoone as shee were married, which shee was shortly to be with her so pleasingly-made-jealous Cromeno.

The Baron and all the rest were not a litle offended at her for not better concealing her affection to Lindadori; but understanding afterwards who shee and the others were, he was as much then displeased on the other side, that shee revealed them not to him or her Mother: Onely Cromeno was joyed at the heart, to heare they were such, being never a whit ashamed of suffering himselfe to be so deluded by two Girles; the remaining whereof being by her Mother chidden for it, thus excused her selfe: You blame me (Madame) for what you should (under favour) rather commend mee for; you know how wee are by men held to be blabs, which induced me by silence to shew, that we can (if need be) lock up secrets in the cabinets of our brests better than they can.

Favoured with a gentle gale, prosperously sayles on the valorous com­pany without lighting (for a good space of time) on any adventure, for giving me time and leasure to get me else-where.

Olmiro Lucano's servant (that was sent to Parthenope by the Princesse Co­rianna in pilgrims weede) came thither in a few dayes, without lighting on any remarkeable encounter by the way; and having got him a lodging in a Lane behinde Lucano's house, he tooke on him to bee a passenger bound for Sicily, to accomplish a vow he had made to the Goddesse Ceres: His Hoste told him, that to goe thither was at that present very dangerous; it being not as yet knowne how that King was inclined; who although hee had indeede no cause to thinke himselfe injured, was neverthelesse much suspected for his extravagant whimsees and excessive pride. Olmiro asking the reason why, was by the other told of the losse of the Princesse gone away no man knew how or whither; onely it was probably conjectured, that one of the two Dukes that were found slaine in the Castle had con­veyed her away. But because it could not be learnt out which of them it was, the King who went to wrack his spite on their corpes, was with much adoe perswaded to grant them to their friends, such a revenge being un­justly taken on the innocent of them, and prejudiciall to his honour and Royall dignity; since it could not but suggest to the world disgustfull matter of displeasing discourses: That being (upon this) retired to his royall Poggio (whither hee admitted no man) he was sundry times like to dye for griefe: That the Queene too sickned so dangerously, as her life was much doubted of: That all the Nobility and prime Gentry were re­tired home to their owne mansions and estates, except the Dutchesse of Lucania; who having sent home to her territories her sonnes corps, would not follow it thither, out of a conceit that shee had of having him present with her; never sithence stirring out of her Chamber, but keeping its windowes close shut, so as it is doubted, that in a few dayes shee is like to follow him, by breaking her heart with griefe: That Embassadours and forreine agents were faine to have recourse to the Lords of the Councell, who dispatched such affaires as they could: That the City (thus deprived of the Court and Nobility, lived in great misery, the houses being tennant­lesse, [Page 200] the wares unvented, and no money stirring; a losse that Parthenope is like for a long time to feele the smart of: And as for Sicily, that its Prince comming to fetch his Bridegroome, had (even at his launching out) met the Galley that was speeded him with that dolorous newes, whereat hee burst out into tearmes that exceeded the bounds of all gravity, modesty, and civility: His Father worse yet than he, a doting, turbulent, wavering, and spitefull old man, aggravating the conceived affront done them.

Much was Olmiro troubled in minde at these newes, not so much be­cause it grieved him to heare them, as for that humane hopes, though foun­ded on dreames, do yet so dilate themselves in despairing consolations, as if they chance to be crost or frustrated by confirmed certainties of the con­trary, then the griefe for them increases an hundred fold. But whilest hee stood muzing what to doe, he might from out the window see passing by his old Camerade Erinnio, his somtimes fellow-waiter in Lucano's Cham­ber; upon this he hems and spits to make him cast up his eye: The other not knowing him with a close-shaven beard in such an habit, (seeing him make signes to him to come up and make no words of him) beheld him more observantly, till by a peculiar gesture of Olmiro he came to know him. Glad then that it was he, he likewise made signes that hee was com­ming up to him: Now some of Lucano's meaner servants were sometimes wont to goe drinke in that house, so as it was an easie matter for Erinnio to finde an excuse to goe thither to aske for a horse-keeper: But being an­swered by the Hoast, that none of their houshold had beene there since their Lords death, he affirmed that he had seene him at the window: The Hoast assured him that hee was mistaken, praying him withall (in case he beleeved him not) to goe himselfe up and see, telling him, that all the roomes above-staires were open, without any other living soule in them save a poore pilgrim. Erinnio gotten up the staires, in great haste told him at a breath, that he could not speake with him there, but wish'd him to come at two a clock at night to the secret doore that lead to their Masters Lodgings, where he should finde him ready to let him in. And then retur­ning downe, he told the Hoast that he was indeede in the right; howbeit that the pilgrim from a farre off resembled much the horse-keeper who wore his beard close shaven as this man had his.

Olmiro missed not the houre appointed; the first thing he ask'd Erinnio was, How he got to stay in the house after the death of their Lord? My Lord (answered him Erinnio) is (God be thanked) yet alive, 'though hee can leade but a dying life, till such time as he recover the Princesse, and ac­commodate their affaires. Olmiro, rapt with unexpected joy, with a coun­tenance of one transported beyond himselfe, gladsomely replies: Is it possible (my deere Erinnio) that my Lord is yet alive; oh let mee blesse mine eyes with the deere sight of him; bring me, oh bring mee quickly unto him! and I'le bring him newes of the Princesse; for shee it was that sent me hither. Erinnio embracing him anew, lead him the way in, having already made the Duke acquainted with his comming. Ascended that they had the staires, they found him with a vissage pale and wanne, laid all along on a low velvet couch. Olmiro knew not whether hee were awake or no; or if he were, yet did Lucano, Erinnio, the Chirurgeon (that stood apart) and the very house it selfe seeme in his extasied eyes to bee visions [Page 201] and ghosts; howsoever, his joy was such, as hee falling flat to the ground lay melting himselfe for meere over-joy into brinish teares, deprived of the power of stirring from thence.

Lucano more yet transported than hee, had not freed his speech for a long time from the prison of a more than extazied passion, if his im­patient desire of knowing how the Princesse did, had not burst open the gates of his silence. Olmiro acquainted him with all that had befallen her, the place shee dwelt in, the griefe that tyrannized over her, the daily selfe-wasting life shee lead, her dreames of him, and imaginations that the wind was his spirit come to see her; of his beloved name's being call'd upon, invoked, and cried out unto, both in light and darkenesse, with the orders given him to goe learne what had happened since her departure: That, in case Lucano were (according to the relation of signes) alive, hee might then come to finde her out; and if dead, that shee might begge of death the favour of being joyned with him. In summe, Olmiro forgot no one particular to make even cruelty it selfe become compassionate, and the direct hatred well-affecting. But all was (God wot) but superfluous for Lucano, to whom the sufferings of Corianna were aggravations of hearts griefe; he could not endure to heare the end of her story, so rent was his affectionate heart with what hee had already heard of it, though by fits eased by the hope hee conceived of corresponding her obligements with equivalent gratitude.

The relation being ended, Olmiro (said hee) I will not thanke thee for thy fidelity, because honest men (as thou art) pretend not such a founda­tion for their merits; nor yet for the toyle thou hast endured, since I per­swade my selfe, that the love thou hast ever borne me, not onely takes a­way the irksomnesse of it, but withall makes it pleasing and delightsome unto thee. I only thanke thee for having endeavoured to keepe me (whom thou thought'st to be dead) alive in the life of her, for whom alone I desire to live or dye: I thanke thee for the good newes thou brought'st me; and for having taken me out of the jawes of a more-than cruell death, which was the not knowing where she was. But first of all I render hearty thankes unto the immortall powers, that have raised mee up so benignely from so low a fall. But tell me Olmiro, shall we goe now presently? And with that starting off his bed, hee hastily walkes the round of the Chamber, love causing him to make that way in an instant, which lay subject to the mea­sure of time. But Olmiro (that saw him so heart-sick of an heart-burning feaver of affection, that hee raved with desire) thus answered him. Our parting shall be when it shall please you, my Lord. Wee cannot sollicite it so much, as for the Princesse sake we should; an houre to her is an eternity. Time (as your selfe have found by proofe) is in consolations and plea­sures most swift, in afflictions and hopes slow if not immoveable: Yet should I (for all that) be sorry to see harme done by seeking to doe good, which cannot but happen, in case you being not (I doubt me) as yet well recovered, should hazard your life, in too soone undergoing this voyage; the same Erinnio also told him: But hee still standing constant to his de­termination of parting suddenly, was at length disswaded by the conside­ration of the want of a fit habit to goe disguiz'd in, and the necessity of re­ferring the resolution thereof to the will of his Mother, for not causing her [Page 202] to fall from one griefe into another. Here seeing how impatiently-desi­rous Olmiro was to know how hee was brought to life againe: I will re­count unto thee my selfe (said he) the things succeeded since Carildo and thou parted'st, leaving me (to your thinking) dead.

The clashing noyse of the swords awoke the Captaine of the Castle, who thereupon came downe; and finding us both slaine, could not ima­gine how wee came by our deaths, much lesse how wee entred into the Castle; so as he being thereat no lesse amaz'd than afrighted, grew to bee yet more afraid, when he found the gate to the sea-ward wide open, which because none save the Princesse had any key of, hee went instantly to her lodgings, where causing her Ladies to arise to goe and awake her, there was no Princesse to be found. Thou maist easily ghesse what a case he was in, who was oft-times minded to cast himselfe into the sea, and had, but for the inward comfort of his assured innocencie, undoubtedly drown'd him­selfe. Behoove him it did to acquaint the King with it instantly, businesse of such importance enduring no delayes: But yet to abandon the Castle in such a time might bring him to merit through justice that punishment, which he feared would be inflicted on him meerely out of a furious anger; and againe, to trust another in such an affaire was dangerous, one word mis­conceived being able to occasion his utter ruine, much more if spoken to his disadvantage.

There was the chiefe Chamberlaine (as thou know'st) to the Princesse the Count of Cana a noble and honoured Cavalier, he, because there was no other fit for such an employment, resolved to be the messenger of these dismall tidings. And understanding by that dayes watch, that neither of us was come in, hee imagined that wee got in (and so indeed wee did) by night under the priviledged names of the Princesse's servants. On he went, and turned the Pallace topsie-turvy, saying he must needs speake with the King instantly: Brought in, he related him the case. The King rising up in a fury sent to call the Admirall, whom he gave sudden order to search every creeke of the sea (knitting with that his threatning browes, and framing his mouth in a wrying posture in saying) to find out his Daughter. Wee the meane while lay distended on the cold surface of our Mother Earth, litle regarding ought that was a doing against us, the Constable and his being dead indeed, and I in such a plight, as no man imagined that I had any life in me. The King was once minded to have us both hang'd up by the feete by the beames of the Draw-bridge; but his consideration laying before the eyes of his judgement, that one of us two was innocent, though he could not come to know which of us both it was, wrought him to con­ceive how unfitting it was for imagination to usurpe the place of certainty, in a case so doubtfull, with persons of so eminent a quality, so as he came at last though with much adoe to be entreated to give way that our corps should be restored to our friends, forbidding us though funerall Rites, and all ceremoniall pompe: All which succeeded to my great advantage, since there was no man in all the Court that thought me not guilty, now that the successe of the case opened the generall eye to take notice of the Prin­cesse's favours, which before were sufficiently observed, but yet of all men taken and construed as ceremonious respects due to my birth, the great­nesse of my Mother, and parity of our yeares.

[Page 203] My Mother being made acquainted with the case, was by some one or other counselled to send speedily for my body, which having all the night long laine exposed to the benumming coldnesse of the piercing ayre, with­out (for ought I beleeve) one drop of blood left in it, was thereupon pre­sently brought home in a close Horse-litter: But whilst Erinnio inconso­lably stood weeping over me, doing me (as he thought) the last services I should ever stand in neede of; having stript mee to wash off the blood, and embalme me, hee found that part of my body that lay next my heart warme and panting: which hee discreetly concealing to himselfe, found meanes to ridde him of all the company-standers by, save onely Tideno and the Chirurgion thou there seest; who upon his making it knowne, that I had yet life in me, throwing hastily aside his instruments, prepared for opening and imbowelling me, fell to dressing me with applications so cordiall, that I in a short time recovered my spirits, but yet so weake and benumm'd, by reason of the great quantity of blood I had lost, and malig­nity of the raw nocturnall ayre that had poysoned the wound, that I re­main'd two dayes speechlesse.

Having thus drest me, they knew not how to make my Mother acquain­ted with it, without incurring the danger of discovering all with their own sudden gladsomnesse; till Erinnio takes on him the charge of managing the businesse; who leaving with mee the other two, went to the place, where shee (wofull woman) with her haire all disheveled, sate weeping among a great company of Ladies, that stood busied in comforting her the best they could: He then whispering the secret in the eare of her woman Antea, soone devised a way to get them all out. Left thus alone, Erinnio acquainted her, how they had found and left me in so hopefull a plight, as the Chirurgion doubted not of my life, upon the assurance hee had of the wounds not being mortall: Yet with putting her in minde, that if then she shewed not her prudence in discreetly-depressing her joy, the second in­convenience would much exceed the first.

At these unexpected newes my poore Mother was so over-joyed, as shee fell in a swound; and that was indeed even it that Erinnio desired; who thereupon ranne out of the Chamber, calling no lesse hastily than lowdly for water, and crying out that the Dutchesse was stone dead. The Ladies return'd all in againe; and having laid her abed unlaced her, whilst others were busied in spirting and sprinkling water in her face, to bring her againe to her speech which shee had lost, for an occasion quite contrary to what was by outward likelihood by the spectators conjectured. Come then againe to her selfe, shee said.

I kindely thanke you (my Ladies all) for the charitable offices you doe me, I pray the Gods reward you for mee, sithence to mee being in their hands, and under their afflicting rod, there rests no other spirit, than to crave them mercy, and to yeeld them thankes for having given me a dispo­sition to conforme and subject my will to theirs. I beseech you to assist my prayers with yours, that they thrust me not out of their sight; and that we may the better doe it, be pleased (I pray you) to retire you all, to the end that the meditation of my faults, and my sorrow for having offended them may so increase in mee, as may either rid me of the extreame hearts-griefe which I am overcharged with at this present, or make me apt and able to [Page 204] support it rather according to the law of Grace, than to that of Nature. These pitty-moving words drew fresh teares from the eyes of all there present, insomuch as many of them would not avoyde the roome: Till some of the discreetest (perceiving that the instance was not ceremonious, and that great griefes have their exhalations from themselves rather than from any other ground, and are withall soonest stopped by being suffoca­ted) perswaded the rest to avoyde the roome, leaving with her onely her domestick servants, from whom also she quickly found meanes to free her selfe, to come and see me. By this time they had convaid mee into that Chamber there that's next hers; and in this roome wherein lay my (to their then thinking) dead corps, Erinnio had placed my Coffin full of heavy things with another lesser one for my bowels, so as shee needed not to goe further than from her Chamber to mine: Vpon this shee told them, that shee desired to be left all alone, and then bid Antca lock the doore, and so leaving her in trust to keepe it, with Erinnio's helpe rose up on her feete trembling for feare of being observed or discovered: Assoone as she saw mee alive, shee had much adoe to keepe herselfe from swounding: Faine would shee have embraced me, but that my wound (that passed from my throate quite through the neck-joynt into the head, not touching (by good fortune) the Weason-pipe) was so sore, as that I could not endure to bee touched; yet could not the extremity of my agony so stupifie my memo­ry, as not both to know her, and with beteared eyes to expresse the sorrow that I conceived for the affliction and greife that I had drawne on her, in gratefull expression whereof I with a reverent affection touch'd her hand, and used (because I could not speake) all the outward expressions I could possibly imagine to comfort her: Heere understanding by the Chirurgion anew that he warranted my life, shee considered with her selfe, how shee might best keepe the businesse concealed. The maine heads whereto her resolutions were reduced to, were; That leaving her bed-chamber for being too neere to that where my corps had beene, shee should remove into the other on the farre side of it (shee her selfe or Antea keeping the key of it) to the end that her Gentlewomen might neither heare me, nor the trampling of those that came to serve mee: That there should bee al­lowed Erinnio and Siledo a good table, under pretext of observing a Fast in the Chamber where they had laid mee for dead, and the leaving of their table to be reserved for the poore, who were to be served with their owne hands through the gate you came in at, to the end those of the house might not suspect, that there were any more than two mouthes to consume it: That the Chirurgion should (as he might with a good colour doe) give out, that he was, for some dangerous cure, gone afarre off, for not giving any ground of suspition to his family or others, by absenting himselfe from home, having before hand carefully provided all things necessary that could in any occasion happen to be requisite for me: That Antea should serve me for Cooke, till I were able to chew, under colour of doing it for my Mother: And that my Mother should not stirre abroad, to the end the presence of her person in those Lodgings might keepe off others from comming thither. In summe, matters were so well disposed of, that there is not to this day any one that beleeves I am not dead. The Coffin sent to Lucania was placed in my Ancestours vault, my Mother leading ever si­thence [Page 205] so retired a life, as the world beleeves it to be, from a good one that it is, rais'd to the pitch of a Saint-like and holy one; the fame whereof was in such sort divulged abroad by her women, and so increased by pas­sing from one mouth to another, as it ministred subject to many a strange story.

I afterwards pretty well cured as thou seest me, was yet so troubled in minde, for not knowing what was become of the Princesse, that I was like both to undoe my selfe, and spoyle all: For, walking one evening in my chamber all alone, whilst Erinnio was with my Mother in her chamber, I became to be transported with an affect so strange, that I fell a-talking to my selfe, over-heard by two Gentlewomen, by ill fortune, and through Antea's fault for leaving the doore of that chamber open. Then burst I out a complaining, that fortune after so many felicities, had made mee the most unfortunate Gentleman breathing, seeing, shee not content with causing mee to be slaine, had for tormenting me with a double death de­priv'd mee of the knowledge of my Corianna's state and beeing. More I would have said, but that upon suddaine consideration of my indiscretion I held my peace, and the words beleev'd to be uttered by a dead man oc­casioned the spreading abroad a rumor, that my spirit was heard stirring all over the house, but especially in the roome where my Coarse had bin laid; and that Erinnio had seene it, but was afraid to confesse it, for doubt that some harme would betide him for it: And indeede upon the Gentle­women's questioning him about it, hee was forced (for concealing the truth) to induce them to beleeve the false rumour by ambiguities, and a kinde of affirming-silence, charging them to make no words of it' though it were true, lest the King should be taken with a humour of interring my body deeper, and for not joyning of greater feares to the Dutchesse's al­ready more than too-too grievous afflictions.

Whilst Lucano stood thus relating his owne disasterous adventures, they heard the noyse of a key unlocking a doore, & then beheld come in thereat the Dutchesse, to see her sonne ere her going to bed; who (good Lady) though that Olmiro's habit and beard had much disfigured him, yet fail'd not (for all that) to know him suddenly. And having beene formerly told that he was gone along with the Princesse, shee joy'd not a litle to see him, out of the hope shee conceiv'd of hearing some newes from her, and so to see (by some means or other) end with some more happy conclusion Luca­no's till then over-tragicall disadventures. Olmiro having kiss'd her hands, told her of the Princesse, all that he had formerly related to Lucano, be­seeching her to give him leave to goe finde her out as soone as his weake­nesse permitted him; with shewing her, how that (over and besides the obligation interceding for her) meere pitty should win her assent thereto.

Olmiro (said shee) Corianna is both my Princesse and Mistresse, which subjection I will never forget for all the priviledges that shee hath or may give Lucano. Howbeit I ingeniously confesse to thee, that I know not how the harme shee hath done me can any way oblige me unto her, whereof if shee hath endured much too, yet is not the fault mine, sithence the Gods know, that I was never so ambitious as to have a Kings daughter to my daughter-in-law at so deere a prise. But what's once done and past cannot bee undone againe. And I am (for what depends on me) most heartily willing [Page 206] that Lucano make knowne unto her, that as he hath spent one, so he is most ready to spend a thousand lives in her service. Nor can he (indeede) ever declare himselfe to her to bee such and so deserving, that the love shewed by her, and the vertue that should bee in him, require not that hee should strive to expresse himselfe in an-yet-more-ample measure. I meane not then to hinder him, but rather to command him to goe, and that too as soone as may be: Neverthelesse to stay yet a weeke (or such a matter) cannot but be his best course; for being by that time throughly well, hee will bee able to performe his voyage without falling into any relapses or new indispositions, which would prove to him dangerous, and to Corianna and me a subject of augmenting and prolonging our griefes. Concluded it was, that goe he should as soone as he were fully recovered. The Dut­chesse thinking every houre an yeare till shee saw him out of the Realme, conceiting it impossible, that his long sojourne discovered him not; being withall very desirous of Corianna's returne, for the ending of her so heavy sufferings. Litle ambitious (God wot) in the rest, (when shee had conside­rately examined all things that made for her disadvantage) for by reason of the Realme's having a Prince (though a babe) Lucano could not aspire to the Crowne: Also that the Princesse should bee there but slenderly esteemed; it being not likely that shee should ever get a good looke of her Father; and her not elected but forced affinity likely to prove odious and displeasing to both King and kingdome. To these were added womanish emulations, for respect whereof shee would rather have had a daughter­in-law of a midling condition that were obedient unto her, than a royall Princesse, whom it behooved her to bee observant of. Full litle slept the Duke that night, thinking himselfe to be already gone, nay arriv'd in Eri­cusa, in the cave, and betweene the armes of his more beloved than deere­bought Corianna: so as not yet throughly well and abandoned of sleepe, the humours stirr'd up with unexpected joy, brought on him a new feaver, which lasted him many dayes; insomuch as it was unpossible for him to part till a moneth after. But then cloathed in a course habit, and accom­panied with no other than Erinnio and Olmiro, taking the way of Taranto, he embarked himselfe for Feacia, and thence to Ericusa. But here content­crossing Fortune thinking shee had not yet afflicted him enough, would needs (to make it perhaps knowne that she made no reckoning of Princes) take her pastime on him by wayes unlawfull, with an intention happily (according to her custome) cruell, to kill him with griefe, since shee could not kill him with the sword.

Corianna was by this time up-risen from childe-bed, and Carildo being (according to his wonted manner) sent to see if he could see arrive any ship, and in her Olmiro, beheld (under the house of Feredo, inhabited then by Almadero as hath beene told you) the then owner of the house him­selfe, who upon a hunting-nag was then riding to visit the Princesse of Feacia. Now he was in all things so like Lucano, that Carildo beleeved it was he, yet could not imagine how that could possibly be, being hee had left him (to his thinking) dead: Besides, that being now (to his seeming) living, he had not in his retinew any one of his wonted servants, to him very well knowne. But that which chiefly induced him to beleeve it, was his language and accent, when he heard him speake to his servants in the pure [Page 207] language of Parthenope. Accoasting therefore one of them hee praid him to tell him, who that Knight was? and understanding that hee was the Knight of the teares; he was not halfe-satisfied with that new by-surname of his, though hee were thereby the more confirm'd in his opinion, by conceiving that hee had ta'en on him that name for the losse of Corianna; but praying the same man againe to informe him of his proper name and countrey, he was answered, that hee could therein be satisfied by no man save onely his Squire, (who was now gone before to see if the Princesse of Feacia were at home) sithence all of them had beene the Druid's ser­vants, and were now his, without knowing of him any more than that hee was setled there, upon some not-openly-knowne discontent or crosse-for­tune befallen him in his owne countrey, but that hee (for certaine) came from parthenope, where of his language accused him to bee a native: yet howsoever it were, hee could be no lesse than a great Prince by his man­ners, carriage, and expence.

Carildo having thanked this servant of his, remain'd astonish'd, when he observed how the Knight himselfe, upon his saluting him, had ey'd him as a man he had never seene before, thinking it impossible, that Lucano could bee so forgetfull, as not to have retain'd in his memory some ghesse of having seene or knowne him before: Hee therefore would willingly have followed him, but that he thought it his better course to goe see if he could espie in the house any thing that might ridde him of his doubt; but yet could not discover there any more: Led he was through every roome, and shewed all his Armes and Armour, but yet could not gather any thing from them neither; seene that hee had that noble Steed, which by his markes and making, he well knew to be of Lucano's breed, (the prime race in all that kingdome) he remain'd so confused in minde, as hee knew not what to thinke on't. Return'd to the cave with his wonted answers, he re­newed to the unfortunate Princesse's wonted afflictions, which made her accuse Olmiro of negligence, and the Fates of cruelty for hindering his re­turne. Carildo would not acquaint her any whit of his suspitions, but ta­king an excuse to returne about some businesse he had to doe abroad, hee went out the morning following, with an intent to speake himselfe unto the supposed Lucano, whom upon his entrance into the wood, he might see close by the Princesse of Feacia in amorous practizes.

Lucano was the night before arrived, and by Olmiro conducted towards the cave through the wood, when unseene they saw the same that Carildo did; there was not any one of them that tooke her not for Corianna, and by peering one in anothers face, they exprest their amazement at her ha­bit misbeseeming an afflicted person; at her countenance that argued con­tent, but most of all at her gadding so alone to finde out some one to ac­company her; for, passing-by without seeing them, shee jetted on with a pace so indecent, as pierced Lucano to the heart, a wound (for all that) sup­portable, till such time, as seeing Almadero meet, kisse, and close with her in amorous embraces: His doubt ceded to certaine realty to the eye and sense, which (as issuing out of some violent machine) struck through his heart with the sharpest griefe that ever cold jealousie tempered with its envenomed juyces in the infernall forge, assisted by the Furies and spiteful­lest spirits of the worst of hells. Kill him outright it did not, the force of [Page 208] his animall spirits supplying the place of his abated courage by conspiring against it, increasing for the increasing of his torment, and to make him mi­serable above all those that ever grieved either for perversity of starres or malignity of Destiny; and withall to the end nothing might bee wanting him towards the making full of his heart-racking tortures, there appear'd for next object to his sight Carildo, that (whilome) honest, faithfull, and obliging Carildo, become now trayterous, disloyall, a pander of dishone­sty, and instrument of his Mistresse's shame, whom he imagined to bee so retired aside of purpose to wayte for to reconduct her from the polluted grove to the wicked cave, th'abominable receptacle of infamy.

The with-love-re-inveigled Almadero had ever sithence Feredo's depar­ture, employed all his studie to gaine the love of the Princesse of Feacia, which succeeded him so well, that the litle love she bare to her old hus­band so accelerated her resolution, that shee from a love became to bee a lover, insomuch as upon his many times forbearing out of the respect due to the husband, shee (whom another sort of intelligence ruled over, not caring for any such observances) would oftentimes come to finde him out just as shee had done that day; because, that though he had beene the day before a-seeing of her, yet had shee not (for all that) the opportunity of being with him as shee desired. Taking now therefore an excuse to goe to her wonted devotions in the wood, shee left to wayte for her returne at the entrance there of her servants and horses, for having no spie over her actions; the same had shee done whilst Feredo was there; for having beene enamoured of him, without being (for all that) able with all her devices ever to winne him to pitch neerer the lure of her desires than in the farre distant grove of rigid lovers, & that but through the suggestion of an ima­ginary birth of her conceit neither. And now because shee had the day before made a match with Almadero to come thither at that houre, they therefore (in respect of his being there before to waite her comming) met jumpe together, retiring themselves (after their first reciprocally-halfe­cloying each other with burning kisses) into the thickest of the wood, in a place there made commodious for their loves.

Carildo upon the appearing of the true Lucano knew Olmiro and Erin­nio, but not him, so disfigured by his habit and long sicknesse, which in case they had not the force to alter him, yet had his new-come griefe power enough both to transforme and deforme him. Hee therefore now doub­ted no more of Almadero's being Lucano; seeing these three infallible witnesses, instruments (to his thinking) of the most detestable and basest treachery that ever was heard of; imagining that upon their landing in Ericusa, hee fell to be enamoured of that woman, and that forgetting his lawfull love, he was now given over to unlawfull adulterous lust, without caring any more for her, to whose affection he was so highly obliged: But that which the more argued the basenesse of his foule fault, was the im­pudencie wherewith he carried it, in taking on him that he knew him not, for thinking to keepe by such base shifts his villanously-disloyall fact un­discovered: Whereupon resolved to unmaske his knavery, (though hee died for it) he bent his pace towards the three, to see what they would say to him. But by then Lucano unable longer to resist the violent agony of his griefe, seized upon by an extreamely-shivering cold, caus'd himselfe [Page 209] to be conveyed out of the wood, so as the trees tooke him and his out of Carildo's sight, who finding them gone from the place he had seene them, wandered all over the wood to seeke them out, imagining then that upon their espying him, they were slipt away for feare of being discovered by him, which made him so mad with anger, as he would willingly have slain Olmiro, Erinnio that third man, and himselfe too: Till finding that hee could not wreck his spite that way, hee thought it his next best course to expect for the comming forth of the supposed Lucano, and to affront him in the presence of his new Mistresse: Yet considering his Lady and Mi­stresse her being and dwelling in her countrey a friendlesse and acquain­tantlesse stranger, subject to wrong, without any defender, he resolved to returne home, acquaint her with the fact, perswade her to hate him per­petually, and to get her thence to some other place lesse griefesome and lesse odious.

Accordingly then Carildo returnes home all-enraged, and appeares before the Princesse a quite-altered man from what he was wont to bee: Hee now observes neither measure nor reason in his actions; hee speakes never a word, nor makes any answer to any question asked him; hee lets fall out of his hand whatsoever hee handleth, stumbles and trips where­soever he puts his foot: His eyes are heavy and sunke in's head, his browes lowring, his countenance grim, sowre, and pale. The Princesse takes no­tice of him, and imagining this change could not spring but from some great and extraordinary occasion, thus bespake him.

What's the matter (Carildo) that thou art so changed? hast thou any ill newes for me, that thou canst not find in thy heart to impart me? if thou hast, I pray thee tell it me boldly, for I am now become a soyle fitte for such seede. Hast thou (tell mee) met with Olmiro; yea sure thou hast, since thou mak'st me no answer; and with that fetching a deepe sigh shee spake on: yea, yea, I well knew that it was not ordinary to raise up the dead againe otherwise than in a dreame: But yet (I pray thee) Olmiro, wherefore comes hee not neere me? Because he's a wicked villaine (an­swered her Carildo.) Shee stricken to the heart with so harsh an epithete, by her thought blasphemy, held her peace, whilest hee thus proceeded.

Madame, your Highnesse must both know how the case stands, and re­solve couragiously to accomplish and doe what I dare advise you. Corian­na, who was even dead to understand his meaning, answered him. Tell me it then a Gods name, if thou wilt not that thy faint-heartednesse in disco­vering it, should teach mee how unable I must bee to support it. Madame (said he then) I beseech you to pardon me if I proceede preposterously in this businesse. For, before I acquaint you with what is done, I must first tell you what is to be done. Well, doe as thou wilt (so thou but tell mee) answered shee. Madame (replied he) be not (I beseech you) then offen­ded, if I make bold to tell you, that what you ought to doe, is, never to love Lucano more. Thou shallow-pated foole (answered him shee then) thou sure either dotest or art madde; what? must I love him no more be­cause hee is dead? yet if thou beest not starke madde, then shew mee the reason for't, since thou well know'st how impossible a thing it is for mee to resolve of a thing so unjust; explaine me therefore (if thou canst) any possibility or reason for me to doe so: Mary so I soone will (said hee) so [Page 210] you but vouchsafe me the patience to heare it, which I briefly thus deli­ver. If Lucano were alive and lov'd not you, but (seeing the present state of life you leade, and either detesting or slighting it) were become ena­moured of another woman, and past his time with her, would you then thinke and grant that impossibility merited the becomming possibility, and unreasonablenesse reason to love him no more? This said, hee stopt his speech, which upon her not answering, he thus continued. I beseech your Highnesse to tell me, if rather than to have Lucano dead, you would bee contented to have him alive (mistake me not) not yours, but a woman's whom he keepes and enjoyes before your face here in this Iland, whilest you live like a serpent under ground for love and long of him; and where (because you could not dye with griefe) you strive to kill your selfe with the rotting humidity and maligne exhalations of the dankish earth. But be pleased (I beseech you) my Lady and Princesse, (whom I know to be discreet) to tell me, Is it not a strange thing, that the Duke of Lucania, who before was dead, should be now risen againe to life; who before a lo­ver, should be now a loather of his deservedly-beloved object, and who formerly was a noble and loyall Gentleman, should (as for certaine hee now is) become most perfidious and ungratefull. Corianna become clay cold thereat, had not the power to answer him; the Dutchesse also with the Gentlewoman astonished at these strange newes, stood mute like so many statues; till shee her selfe at length, having first dried her beteared cheekes, thus said.

Lucano then is not dead but lives, and yet is no more mine? And is it possible that Lucania could bring forth and foster such cruelty and ingrati­tude? No, no, the world will not beleeve it, no more doe not I. Thou dream'st, (alack) thou dream'st Carildo; the constantly-good-gentle-car­riage of Lucano is a cloth died in graine, incapable of either spot or staine. But hereupon Carildo's distinct relation of all he had seene, (taking for the right Lucano the true Almadero) shee flung her selfe on the ground tearing her haire, clothes, and face, and had doubtlesse kill'd her selfe in that pas­sionate fury, had not the discretion of her attendants hindered and crost that her so desperate intention.

Lucano on the otherside (being by his loyally-loving servants condu­cted to the place where he landed, and whither Carildo was wont to come to buy provision, and to espie for the landing of any shipping, was in a poore lodging, provided of a poorer bed with small hope of life, his griefe augmenting his feaver whilst his spirits hourely wasted. Resolved then to dye, he yet resolved first to be the death of the Knight that was the cause of his death. Olmiro and Erinnio did by turnes the best they could to bring him out of the imminent desperation hee was in, from which they could not thinke of a better or more powerfull diversion, than the loathing of Corianna; shewing him withall, that in respect of loves being engendred by love, the one should surcease to be, upon the ceasing of the others beeing. A correspondence (in their judgement) every way just, for that if the ha­zarding ones life for any ones love, was an effect not onely of affection, but also of duty; wherefore then (since we have all of us reason to respect ever chiefly our owne good, and to love our selves best) should any man so love any one that loves him not, as to hate himselfe to death? with fur­ther [Page 211] telling him, that amorous constancies were poeticall fables; and if not, that yet they could not be vertues, their effects being vitious and a­gainst reason. That that which was constantly to be liked and lov'd in a woman was constancie, honesty, modesty, shamefastnesse, and the like, and not their opposites and unlike. But Lucano arguing the case according to his passion, returned them this answer.

My well-meaning friends, the priviledge of men in health is to judge of sicknesses as they conceive of them, and not according to the sicke mans paine. Would not yee hold me for a madde man, if I (being well and you sick) went about to perswade you, that it is ill done to be sick, and contra­ry to the reasons of loving a mans owne good, and content; with adding, that your being sick makes your friends sorry, disquiets your family, and leades you the high-way to death; and that therefore your best course were to bee well againe, which if you please you may be? Yet yee now perswade your selves that I can doe what I cannot, thinkign that passions should bee ranked among things indifferent; whereas indeede true love hath ever beene a supreame Commander, and to this day exerciseth his Soveraignety, not onely over reasonable men, but also over reason itselfe; how much more powerfully then must I needs bee tyrannized over by mine, that hath beene already possessed of its sweetes, and since (in an ex­amplelesse manner) suspended from them by time and sufferings? Thinke you that a thing so precious, acquir'd with the hazard of my life, and losse of my state and fortunes, can be by me given over and resigned to another; onely because my will and resolution (you say) should be to doe so? You would perswade me to it, out of charity to my selfe for sooth; but (I pray you) tell me how can I expresse my selfe more charitable to my selfe, than (seeing a necessity of my death) to dye quickly and willingly? To love no more Corianna is unpossible for me; nay more, the meere instincts of love yet perswade mee shee is innocent, and the Law wee live under enfor­ces me to beleeve her such: Againe, that shee hates me I cannot beleeve, nor yet dared yee tell me so. Is shee (having heard of my death) obliged to languish perpetually? Or doe the Lawes deny marriage to faire, young, orphan-widowes, and in a plight so miserable as shee was in? Corianna was borne to love me out of her voluntary noblenesse, to cause mee to be slaine, yea and slay mee too, but innocently; Corianna hath for my sake forsaken both Father and Countrey, nay lived too like a worme under ground through my doings; till occasion was offered her, that a gentle Cavalier moved to compassion at her sufferings, freed her thence, and shee (poore Lady) was faine to accept of his courteous offer, now that shee liv'd (for loving me) excluded and deprived both of Realme and honour: Nor can I but acknowledge my selfe (in some respect) obliged to her Knight her new servant, and am sorry that I cannot requite him, since that Corianna being mine cannot be his too, nor have two husbands at the same time living; I therefore am necessitated to slay him with my owne hands; or if he chance to kill me, I shall then (Heaven be my witnesse) dye con­tentedly, and dying, wish him that felicity, which my owne heart desired I should enjoy with my deere Corianna.

The disconsolated Princesse slept not all that night, but spent it in be­moaning Lucano living, as shee had before lamented him dead, resolved [Page 212] the next morning to goe finde him out her selfe; which because Carildo disswaded her from, as both a thing unworthy of her, and a subject of fa­vour to Lucano, and of triumph to the Princesse of Feacia; shee bade him spare his speech, and get her a few new-laid egges, shee having not eaten any thing all the day before. In this he obeyed her with all readinesse, and by so much the more willingly, that the innocent babe (which shee nurst her selfe) suffered exceedingly through the want of milke, and abounding of ill humours which his Mothers passions engendred in him: and then accompanied with no other than the Dutchesse, shee leaving her woman to looke to the babe tooke her way to Almadero's house-wards, going rather a Bacchan's or bedlam's than a royall or sick-womans pace, and so speedily as the Dutchesse had much adoe to follow her. They well knew the next way without going any compasse, having beene used to walke it often, when sometimes they went out to enjoy the benefit of the fresh ayre. The sunne began to send out his hotter beames by that time they were come to the foote of the hill, which made them irresolute, whether it were their better course to goe up, or expect his comming downe into the wood. But such was their good fortune, that Almadero chancing to espie them, came running downe towards them, taking one of them to be his Lidomia, for such was the Princesse of Feacia's name. The Ladies, on the other side, discovering him a farre off, and not doubting that hee was Lucano, retired themselves to along bench, seated at the mouth of the wood, to attend there his comming

Almadero having first commanded his Attendants to stay behind, came running downe the descent of the hillock all alone, with as great speed as could be imagined. Being come neere them, and seeing Corianna (whom he beleeved to be Lidomia) so altered and pale, hee with a compassionate accent cryed out, Alack for woe! what face is that deere Mistresse of my life? how came it so to lose its colour and fresh beauty in one short day? With this, offering to take her gently by the hand, and shee disdainefully but faintly withdrawing it, her spirits failed her, her head hung drooping down, & her breathles body had also sunke to the earth, but that the Dut­chesse and he supported it; Almadero not knowing the Dutchesse, ask'd her, what disasterous fortune had so discourteously used the Princesse his Lady and Mistresse, as to alter her so exceedingly in so short a time? In so short a time (answered him then the Countesse) 'tis indeede but a short time since thy disloyalties were knowne, but not since shee began to suffer for thee, thou false unworthy Knight; whereas if shee had listened unto my words, we had not beene at the passe we now are reduced to. But Lu­cano? thou the most abominablest of men, hast thou so flinty a heart and brazen a face, as forgetting the miseries which are and have been endured for thee, to falsifie even before the face of so high-borne a Princesse (to whom thou art so much bound) that plighted troth, which was the occa­sion of her becomming unfaithfull, and a promise-breaker to the King her Father, the King of Sicily, and her selfe? Ah thou ungratefull, unworthy Traytor.

Strange seemed this language to Almadero, for being unacquainted with the actions hee was taxed withall, nor could he imagine the reason why this woman (whom he never knew nor saw before) so spake unto him, [Page 213] as if shee had beene before of his acquaintance, till the naming of Lucano made him somewhat conceive the errour, but the naming of the Kings much more; yet could neither of these stop the violent current of his first conceit; for the seeing of (to his thinking) Lidomia in such a plight, made him beleeve, that the Lady might be mistaken in the names but not in the fact, wherewith hee imagined some false report might have misinformed her conceit: But seeing her not yet come to her selfe, he thought it a more beseeming office to runne to fetch water to revive her, than to take any heed to the bitter words of a misinformed woman: But no sooner was he parted from her, than upon hearing her fetch a profound sigh, he returned, contemplating in her with an eye of sorrow-displaying pitty a mortall­bluish palenesse; heere offering to take her by the hand anew, and againe repulsed with open disdaine.

Madame (said he thereupon) I now well see, that this place is against all reason the Iland of Adventures, whereas its name should rather bee the Iland of Misadventures, seeing its adventures grow from good to evill; considering how you are from a healthy woman become so sick and alte­red, as I scarce know you, and I from an honest man growne to be disloy­all, unworthy, and a Traytor. This Lady (whom I know not what shee is) both contrary to the modesty of her sex, and beyond the limits of rea­son takes on her too much authority to injure me: I am verily perswaded shee knowes me not, but mistakes me for some other, since her being with you, and her noble aspect should not (me thinkes) permit her to give such unmannerly language to any man, much lesse to me. Vpon this the Dut­chesse leaving Corianna halfe unlaced, turning angrily towards him: Would to Heaven (answered shee) that I had indeed never knowne thee, for then had'st thou never beene the ruine of our House, and shame of our blood. Woe is me, I know thee but too well, though I indeed never till now knew thee to bee so shamelesse and impudently-audacious, as to dare to deny with the acts the persons; tellest thou me, thou knowest me not? wilt thou say thou know'st not the Lady Princesse neither? To this Almadero halfe-angry replied: I never have nor will deny what I knew, and for my Lady the Princesse, I shall much sooner forget the knowledge of my selfe than of her; sithence for retaining the knowledge of her everlastingly, my spirit hath so stampt her shape in my memory, that appeare shee well in health, courteous and favourable as shee did yesterday; or angry, dis­dainefull, and sicke, as shee seemes to be to day, yet shall I never forget either her noble person or obliging favours. All reasons making for the contrary touch not me, which if they did, then were I indeede that disloy­all, unworthy miscreant that you make me. For the rest, I understand you not, you call mee Lucano, a name that I never heard of before, and you talke (I know not what) of our house and blood; But truly I beleeve, that if such interesses were betweene us, I should then know you as well as you imagine you know me. For which if I had no other argument, the very falsenesse of the calumny which you brand me with, is so manifest, that I knowing that I have never shamed my blood; know by consequence, that none of my kinred can upbraid me of any such crime.

The Princesse that had the while with a sterne-lowring eye oft-times beheld him, perceived shee was mistaken, now that shee had observed in [Page 214] him the favour and making, but neither the gesture nor true accents of Lucano, imprinted in her memory with an indelible stampe; and therefore now growne desperate, upon the becomming dead againe of her a litle sithence resuscitated lover, shee began to grieve with a new kinde of sor­row, and had willingly spent her deerest blood, to bee (without being de­ceived) the beguiled and betrayed one, so he but lived: Whence we may gather, that there is not any affect either more inconstant in its operations, or more contrary in its selfe, than that of amorous jealousie: Hatred and love are ever constantly the same, the one neverthinkes of loving, the other never descends as low as hating; but when once jealousie enters, then they confound themselves. The lover knowes not which of them he were best pitch upon, if he enjoyes the one, he covets the other, which gotten hee abhorres, and returnes to the first againe; hence proceeds that vicissitude or perpetuall motion of warre and peace in amorous affections. The Dut­chesse observing the language of the (to her thinking) Lucano, though she imagined not that shee was mistaken, yet discreetly conceiving, shee had too much offended him, she with a milder countenance thus bespake him.

Nephew, if with my fortunes and the rest I had lost my wits and me­mory, I might then doubt of knowing you, though I have no reason to wonder that you know not me; but should indeede marveile more, that in all the time that wee lamented you dead, our hiewes and faces were not altered, and more yet that we are not over-growne with grasse insteed of skin and haire. But for all this alteration, is it possible that I am so disfigu­red as you know not the Dutchesse of Magna Grecia your own Aunt? That you could know the Princesse my Mistresse sooner than mee, is to mee a double wonder, her griefes and sufferings having beene greater than mine, and her beauty and youth more subject to change, than my wrinkles and withered agednesse: But since you say you know her, I pray you then how came you to know her, if you be not Lucano? The Knight at these words peering in her face, stood as immoveable as a stone, upon his comprehen­ding of this mistake: Glad then of being disburthened of the great paine, that the alteration of his beleeved Lady and beloved Mistresse had drawn on him, he with a smiling countenance thus answered her.

For certaine Lady I may well be your servant (and so I now offer you to be) the being such depending on my choyce: but bee your nephew for truth I cannot, that being an office reserved to Nature; I am sorry that the resemblance which I might have to that nephew of yours Lucano, hath deceived you, as the likenesse in favour of this noble Lady to the Prin­cesse of Feacia hath beguiled me; but now that mistake deludes mee no longer, seeing that it is impossible that shee whom I so lately saw so well and in such perfect health could in so few houres lose both flesh and co­lour; and now if there be any thing in me, that may better satisfie you for the further cleering of your mistake, behold me most ready and willing to obey you.

The Princesse who till then had her pale lips sealed up with silence (be­come now but too certaine of the truth) said unto him: Worthy Sir, there needs no other proofe; the acting of such a deceitfull part cannot be expe­cted from a person of your quality: and for this Ladie's using you discour­teously, shee was indeede perswaded shee might doe it, out of the conceit [Page 215] shee had, that shee spake to her Nephew, and upon the supposed ground of a fault, whereof he (unfortunate Gentleman) is so much the more inno­cent, by how much his being reduced to earth and dust deprives him of the power of sinning; with that word, shee sinking downe her head swoun­ded againe, and became as cold as yce. Almadero (the sweetest dispositio­ned Knight living) had much adoe to refraine weeping for meere pitty; and seeing some of his servants not very farre off him, hee call'd for wa­ter, which came (but too late) with the accourse of all that were above to helpe her. Faine would hee then have knowne who shee was, but held it no good manners to aske it yet of the Dutchesse, who was both confused in minde for him, and busied about the Princesse; but having already un­derstood the story of Corianna, he ranne with his imagination to the truth: Vse therefore he did all the meanes he could imagine by entreaty and per­swasion, to have her carried up, whereunto the Dutchesse assented, yet she could by no meanes be perswaded to it, but suddenly parted to avoide his importunity. Whereupon Almadero would at least have her carried to her Barge, (for they had made him beleeve, they had a Barge that at­tended them) but shee would by no meanes agree to that neither, being resolved rather to dye by the way, than to let any one know where shee abode.

Carildo gone out of the cave (as was told you) came where Lucano was lodged, where (as before he ghessed he should) he met with Olmiro. Both of them grew pale, and in vent of their spitefull ire each against other, Carildo first thus reviles the other. Is it thus that Princesses ought to bee served? Olmiro: Is this the faith thou owest such personages? Is this the gratitude to thy Soveraigne Mistresse for so many favours? To know that shee pines and dyes for newes from Lucano, and yet both Lucano being a­live, and thou living with him, leade a most dissolute course of life, whilst shee (unfortunate Lady) lyes a dying? Now fie for meere shame, if you have no charity, yet should yee (me thinkes) have so much modesty and respect (injuring her with so much ingratitude, and with so litle reason as yee have to doe so) as to doe it at least so privately as shee know it not.

Olmiro (who understood the matter otherwise) thought these the most dissembling and counterfeit words that e're were uttered, and Carildo the unworthiest man breathing; which made him thus retort. If thou had'st served the Princesse as loyally as I have done, thou had'st not then brought herto that dishonest passe shee now (through thy meanes) is brought unto: Wee have well seene that shee lyes not a-dying, but for her greater content, lives in thy presence accompanied, with whom I know not save with whom shee listeth or lusteth after. Wicked miscreant? is this the care thou should'st have of a Princesse? Is this the thankes thou givest Lucano's bounty? Is this the duty due to his favour and merits? Must he (unfortunate Knight) who was slaine and halfe-buried, live again; and being come hither for life, finde here his death? Me thinkes yee should at least have had the patience to expect my returne; sithence if hee were alive (as for his greater misfortune it is but too certaine that he is) he would then take from you the occasion of falling into the errour you are in; if dead, then would there rest to her (being so ridde of her husband) the field honorably free to other loves, whereas yee are now through your [Page 216] frantick impatience become inexcusable, by becomming your selves the murtherers of that unfortunate innocent Knight.

Carildo the noblest-minded Squire living, conceiting that Olmiro had for hiding his and Lucano's faults, invented this dishonest calumny; and that not content to injure him alone, hee had basely let runne his lying tongue on the honour of his innocent Lady and Mistresse; forgetting now all the rules of patience, clapt his hand on a skeane that hung at his neck, Olmiro doing as much with another such weapon, and then either of them redoubling his blowes on the other, did his utmost endeavour not to wound, but (like cruell enemies) to speed each other; so as one of them had soone beene slaine, but for the arrivall of five Knights: But I must now crave leave to get me else-where, undertaking to deliver them you in in a short time woundlesse and friends.

We left Polimero and his company parted from Greete with their prow to the Westward; who as they sayled with a gentle Loome-gale, disco­vered (the second night of their voyage) a farre off in the Iland of Cithera, a great number of fires, which seemed to goe and meet one another; an effect not to be judged of, in respect of the motion of the Vessell; where­upon to satisfie their curiosity, they steer'd directly towards it; where drawne neere, they perceived them to be Torches, wherewith some dead man was accompanied to his last home. The pompe was considerable both for quantity and variety; the men were all hooded with Capuchios, and the more principall wore long traines; the horses trapp'd with black velvet downe to the hoofe: the Funerall contrived into a curious forme of lights and banners; the military Musick orderly devided into corre­spondent spaces, whereof those of voyces next about the Biere enforced with their sweetely-mournefull consort, the stoniest affects to grieve and sorrow. Polimero could by the great pompe he there observed judge no lesse, than that the dead man was some great Prince; for which cause, and because also the shee-warriers were desirous to see him, he commanded to runne a shore there: yet could they not land so soone, but that the Biere was before entred into the Temple, whilst they stood wondering, that there could be in so small an Iland, so stately a shew, and such a number of Nobility. There stood placed in the mid'st, a Piramide-wise-built Scaf­fold, with staires to get up on it, and so high, as it seemed to contend with the hight of a Cube; there sustain'd it twelve great Pillars, and under it was laid the Biere with the corps, whose principall ornament were many Armes; the fairest of them (which for being enriched with precious stones glittered at the flaming-light of the Torches) were on the nether­most of the staires, whose corners were adorned with statues even to the uppermost of all; the first foure of the foure cardinall vertues, the others of the succeeding, wrought with such exquisite artifice, as they seemed to be of finest Marble; the Torches in great quantity orderly ranked from the top to the bottome in great silver Candlesticks, and the whole circum­ference lighted by an infinite number of wax-lights proportionably con­trived and moulded.

The Princes passing by all other curiosities, hastened to see the coarse, which being a youth of about nineteene yeares of age, exposed to the eye (though dead) a shew of such lively beauties, that the privation of life [Page 217] seemed counterfeit, onely that he might be gazed on; hee lay arm'd all save the head. A Mantle of fine purple, within lin'd quite through, and without down to the waste with white Ermins, & a Crown (which for be­ing set full of precious stones shone on his head) manifested him to be un­doubtedly some great Prince. There sate at his feet two damozels cloath'd in blacke, whose habits, together with their nethermost border without, were lined with faire white vailes. They lamented him, singing in a tone so mournfull, that there was not an unbeteared eye among all the spectators: Another such paire was placed one of each side of him, with two great rich winde-fannes in their hands; busied they were in fanning him ayre, till the two first, having by then given over their song, successively under­went their office. But the sweltry heate (which for being encreased by the lights and pestering throng of people, made them feele it still more and more stifeling) enforced them to retire to the ayre into a Cloyster hard by; where being by a Priest knowne for strangers, they were by him courteously offered the commodity and sight of the house; seeming desi­rous withall to relate unto them its beginning, and how there was there nursed the faire Goddesse of Cyprus: But they mov'd with the curiosity of that lugubrous spectacle, besought him (though they had understood the generality of it already) to tell them its particulars, how that Prince came to dye in that Iland of Cithera: the good man willing to obey them, (following a great Torch that hee caused to be carried before them, and walking right on to a long Gallery, that led to that part of the house that was called the strangers Lodging) thus satisfies their curiosity.

Some two yeares sithence may there bee (saith hee) expired, since the Queene of Macedon (a kingdome not hence farre distant) having sent of three sonnes that shee had the two eldest, to bee educated and taught else-where, holding native homes, especially those of Princes unfit and preju­diciall (in respect of the authority which they there possesse) to the insti­tution of their youth, was taken with a longing desire to goe see him dis­guised, but yet in the habit of a noble pilgrim; and of them unexpected came to the marveilous City of the Meridian Lake, where taken with the rare delightsomnesse of the site, and other excellencies there remarke­able, shee made for some while her abode; the scope of her desire was to goe see Egypt, and thence to returne to Macedon; but was not so soone launch'd forth into the sea of Creta, than that Corideo the eldest of the two sickned; whereupon being necessitated to come a-shore here; she thereof advertized her husband, who hastened (good Prince) with all possible speede to the beloved sight of his wife and sonne, though the joyes of see­ing her (part of himselfe) were corrupted by the likelihood hee faw of losing his son, part of them both: Wherefore when he had (in vaine) expe­rimented all the remedies of Art to be bootelesse, he then, as though his recovery lay in his sonnes owne hands, thus bespake him.

And wilt thou then leave me (my Corideo) now that I am runne hither unto thee, of purpose that thou might'st not aband on me? Cheere up thy spirits, (my sonne) for behold mee here ready to accomplish thy wishes; and if the wide world can raise up thy drooping courage, there is not (assure thy selfe) any one thing in it that I'le not procure to give thee content: We have here hard by, Macedon, where thou art wisht for, and where thou shalt [Page 218] be cured, so thou be but pleased to be merry: Wilt thou by dying deceive the expectation which the world hath of thee living, as if thou distru­sted'st to accomplish with effects, what thou promised'st by the hopes con­ceived of thee? No doe not, oh doe it not (my deere Corrideo) death though timely will seize on thee but too soone, which (alas) he should not in this the faire spring-time of thy youth, and in the budding forth of its flowres, before the taking of its fruite, and ere it be either gathered or ta­sted. Looke on thy deere Mother, her love towards thee is no new affect, and thinkest thou that thou canst satisfie her by dying, the debts thou owest her living? For my selfe, I say nothing; for if I desired that thou should'st live for my sake, I should not then love thee but my selfe; but I loving both thee and her, ought to procure thy life for her sake and thine. More he would have said, but here ceased, for having his royall spirits o'rewhel­med with a fatherly affection, seconding (as raine followes thunder) his la­mentation with teares.

My Soveraigne Lord (answered him the Prince) if one that already feeles the ravishing sweetes of a better life would follow the affections of this, he were unworthy to enjoy them. I never (the Gods know) meant to abandon you; which if it bee conceived by any, that I by dying leave you, such a conceit argues not wisedome in the hatchers thereof; your Majestie (I am sure) is not of that opinion. This life is a race unequall in all men; mine (whatsoever one it be) is ended; I finde my selfe at the marke in my best strength, and therefore since I have wonne the prize, you have no reason to repine or be sorry for my gaine. The young man and decrepit dotardare (when they are once parted hence) in an equall de­gree, nor would my dying an old man doe me any more good in conside­ration of my present yeares, since eternity admits of neither number nor time: Indeede if I abandoned you for the interest of my owne sole ad­vantage, you then had reason to grieve for it; but (alas) the arrest that is laid upon mee comes from a higher power; your royall commandement extends not so farre, no more than my possibility in the effect of serving you. Therefore (my dread Soveraigne) the accusing me with the argument of my duty towards you, and my Mothers love to me, corrupts to me the divine sweets, which I already relish with the bitternes of unsavory terrene affects, which like sharpe thornes prick me but too-too much already on this my death-bed? Now for those things which you proffer mee, with putting me in minde of my Countrey and kingdome, they (alas) are not to be parallel'd with those I aspire unto; besides, I were most unworthy if it lay in my power to live, to live for any other end, than to honour and serve you. That I (by dying) corrupt the hopes conceived of me, I (in my judge­ment) in so dying dye an happy man, having in these few yeares of mine learn'd, that actions contend with opinions of volubility and inconstancie; so as, although who so doth well, digresseth not; yet escapes he not (for all that) the censure of opinions, which like meere shadowes and Chimera's of spirits, runne along with our dayes and alter with our yeares. Therefore (my Royall Soveraigne) if your perswading mee to live, be to command me, be then pleased (I beseech you) that I tell you, that neither your autho­rity nor my obedience hath so large an extent, since the spirit, for being the better choyce, hath more prevailing arguments than the flesh. For the [Page 219] rest, behold here my Brother Almondo, on whom my memory may to­gether with the heritage be setled. If you but looke well into him, you shall have no occasion to grieve for want of me: Be not (I beseech you) blinded with my lovely livelihood, and prompt forwardnesse now done and past, that nature which you see sweetly-grave in him goes on (indeed a slower but) a surer pace. To you (Madame) it rests that I make knowne, that in this my passing over into the other world, there lies no greater rub in my way, than my affection to you-wards as yet not transmuted, but halfe-terrene and mingled with your motherly affects; yet I hope that the Gods will hold me excused, for its being an effect of pitty to one, whom next them I owe most unto. Madame, my Liege, Almondo I now goe hence, let the memory of me be deere unto you, which to the end I may part hence contented, I pray you promise it me without grieving. With that word, hee offered to reach them his hand, which as he began to raise up, sunke downe againe; he (with that) restoring his divinely-sweet spi­rit to him that had sent it him.

Such was the end of Prince Corideo, which may serve for an example, to who so aspires to gaine that which should be desired farre before any earthly thing. The lamentation and moane made for him was exceeding great, the King also being no more capable of consolation than the Queen, although to comfort her, he tooke on him to grieve lesse than indeede he did. They are now retired into that Chappell there (pointing with that towards the place with his finger) whither our Father Guardian (a Priest of much holinesse and profound learning) is gone a litle while since to com­fort them, and I was just now a going thither to see and heare them. If you therefore can dispence with my service, I shall crave leave of you to goe on, or if otherwise you be possest with the same curiosity as I am, I will then (so you be therewith pleased) see you seated in a darke window whence you may unseene see all. Vpon acceptation of this last courteous proffer, they mount up; where (upon the opening of a doore leading from a privy chamber) they discovered a litle Temple, wherein upon large vel­vet cushions sate the King and Queene, whose Royall aspect so discovered their dignities, that their mourning-habit voyde of both pompe and orna­ment, could not disguise their native greatnesse. Shee being endued with a beauty so majestically-grave as might strike reverence into the stubbornest spirits, and he bearing stamp't in his forehead the true caracters of a mag­nanimous and generous heart. In the same instant entred the Priest, who being made sit on a low stoole close by the Queene thus fram'd his speech.

Madame, the Gods send me hither to be both your Physician and Em­bassadour, with command to comfort you as an Embassadour, and to cure your griefe as a Physician; so you therefore bee but pleased to make a short pawse on your hitherto-just-teares; I will (the Gods willing) ac­complish both the one and the other. The Queene (lifting up her eyes, and seeing stand before her a reverend old man, who cloathed in a snow-white rayment, made a shew of something more than humane) dryed her beteared eyes, but return'd him no answer; for being at one and the same time to doe two (as it were) contrary offices, which was, to retaine her teares, and give free way to her speech. Whereupon hee, as one long si­thence acquainted with the nature of griefe, without expecting any answer, proceeded.

[Page 220] Madame, I am glad that saving health begins already to have place in your Majesty, since at the very name of God I see you shake off the shac­kles of that benumming droopingnesse wherewith you were fettered. Hu­mane afflictions have (Royall Madame) two most potent arguments, or rather meanes of shunning extreames; the one practised through the helpe of Philosophicall vertue, the other infused by celestiall grace; that com­mon to all, this onely to those whom God communicates it unto: From the first we may learne, that ordinary accidents should not in any extraor­dinary measure afflict us; that the gifts of Nature are bestow'd upon us for use, not possession; that riches, children, and honours are more sud­denly lost than gotten; that prudent and discreete persons receive from reason that consolation in an instant, which others are wrought unto by time and perswasion, and that such comfort too depends on our imagina­tion, and our imagination on us, so as the prefixing to our selves things either burthensome or light, is to shut or open the gates of comfort. The second teacheth us; that the death of the just is precious before God; that humane capacity conceives not the joyes of such as have an eternall seate amongst the blessed; that the life of such is not taken away, but conserved till that long expected day, which must bring us, being freed from the ty­rannie of time and fortune, to the enjoying of a truly-perfect life; that that death which terminates the course of an holy life, is not properly death, considering the sweete quietnesse that ensues it, the faire advantagious ex­change it makes, and the undoubted assurance it receives of it; that the good are called before their time, for ridding them out of the hands of the wicked, and from being by them either molested or corrupted; that God makes no difference betweene the rathnesse and latenesse of time, but that man arrived to the terme prescribed him, becomes old even in his very childehood; and that therefore we should with a cheerefull mind accept what he sends us, to offer him in gift what we owe him of duty.

The Queene listned unto the Priest with great attention; and seeing him now silent, with a countenance composed to constancie, whose milde serenity shewed shee had chased away the cloud of passion, shee return'd him this answer.

Father, I yeeld the Gods hearty thankes for having voutchsafed to re­member mee through your meanes. I could not (I confesse) answer your arguments, if I had the power to practize them, but wanting it, it behoves me to search for it in the secret of your precepts. And first, I beseech you to teach mee, how I shall conceive to bee ordinary that which never was heretofore? I lament not (as I am a woman) the generall death of man; but bemoane (as a mother) the particular death of my sonne; I know that it is an ordinary thing that every man dye, but to dye in youth, to breake the order of Nature, & to have befall us in our more pleasing yeares that which should not happen us before our decrepit loathsome old age, is (I am sure) no ordinary thing. For the gifts which wee receive, alas I grieve not for being debarrd the possessing them, which I pretend not, but for being deprived of the use of them, which was violently taken from me. If it were ordinary for mothers to bee deprived of their sonnes, the world would then be soone ended, for in one sole age there would not be either fathers or sonnes to be found; that worldly things are transitory, [Page 221] our very sense shewes us, but ere sense can renounce the griefe that fol­lowes the privation of them, Nature must first forbeare the forming it of passions. For the discreete I know not in what sense to conceive them; conceive them perhaps I might, if the proprieties of affects were punctu­ally knowne, but who can fit mee one pleasure or one paine to two that be just equall to them, and reduce withall their constitutions to such a parity, that tense make not a difference of them? which if it could be done too, yet could there be no great matter of prudence in it, since wee are tyed to worke with such equality: And againe, if it cannot be done, I must then call it rigidnesse of nature, declination of sense, stupidity or defect of ap­prehension at the least. The procuring in fine that meere imagination should bring us to comfort, is beyond the reach of my understanding. And I would faine know, if such an effect shall be conformable to its cause? which if it be, then must such a consolation needs be false, the imagination being formed of things not true. To your second Arguments I make no answer, their authority being but too great, and their truth most manifest. But the supreame truth not being comprehensible, otherwise than by the minde, it should not (me thinkes) seeme strange to you, if I (for being go­verned with the sharpe sense of my griefes) comprehend it not in its owne rayes; whereunto I (for all that) submit both my selfe and my griefes so I be but permitted to evaporate them a litle, lest the principall be exceeded by the interest.

Vpon the hearing of these words, the Assistants who till this time were all tongue-tyed by a drooping silence, made resound the Cube of a con­fused lamentation, the aged Priest weeping with the rest: Till observing a litle after that the Queene dryed up her teares, and that return'd to her former quiet temper, shee stood expecting some further speech of him; he thought to reply, when shee continued the file of her speech, saying.

Father, there are some passions which have more need of sword than shield, which a man must either quite defeate or still live withall; which if it so bee, where then shall I (alas) for shunning such deadly company, finde Armes to defeate mine, ere I be first by them quite ruin'd? Philo­sophicall reasons are (God wot) but feeble wards, they are shields fram'd by wit, which many times either speakes what it is not sensible of, or pra­ctiseth not what it speakes. 'Tis but too difficult a thing to put off the ha­bit of humanity, there is not any man that disburthens himselfe of it with­out sorrow at parting from it. In heaven (answered the Priest) where in the hight of blisse lives the glorious Prince Corideo, you (Madame) by that time I have assured you of your glory, shall finde this vitall sword. And being asked how hee could know it, and if the places appointed for the happy were not the Elizean Fields? These are mysteries (said hee) which I should indeede conceale, if the imparting them you were not the unguent wherewith I should heale you. The ordinary place then appoin­ted for the happy, is indeed the same you now mentioned, but yet there are of them others granted but to a few, for but few such are there as was the Prince Corideo. The soule (Madame) is a fire, a ray or sparkle taken from the divinity, infused by the Gods into bodies in different degrees, the cause of the differences that are seene betweene soule and soule. All the Gods infuse not this fire, nor other save such of them as have the vir­tuall [Page 222] power of influence, and by the quality of our working, is knowne by which of them we were inflamed. This fire so infused, worketh in us the same effect, as the reall fire doth in coales, anticipating in kindling accor­ding to the portion given it, if litle slowly, if much quickly: Hence comes it that the knowledge of old men surmounts that of younger, because the coale in these scarce kindled, is in those quite burnt out. This is the ordi­nary operation according to the course which the Gods proposed in Na­ture, and such as of this order dye just in this life, have their repose among the faire pleasing shades of the Elizean Field: But the extraordinary one (imployed only on such whom the Gods are, out of their benignity, plea­sed to favour extraordinarily) is not only to communicate the fire in a mul­tiplied portion, but also to take it from Ioves owne rayes, which hee him­selfe with the consent of the other Gods infuseth, to forme thereof a heroe, a demy-god: And this multiplied portion is in some so swift in its working, that some, though babes, are in knowledge and discretion old men, and yet but children at their dying houre; because the fire having done its ope­ration, both kindles and consumes away even in an instant: Of this number (Madame) was the Prince Corideo your sonne; for I observed in him whilest he was sicke, the spirit of Iove, the infusion imparted from the o­ther Gods, obliquely regarded with grimme and maligne aspects onely by Mars and Saturne: Yet such like spirits are not infused by men and Earth, but by the Gods and Heaven; and have when they are separated, three distinct places of blisse prepared for them, conformable to the distinct de­grees of the rayes they received upon their being united to bodies: The first which is the inferiour containes the spatious latitude of the ayre, en­joyed by such, who despising vulgar opinions, lift up their mindes to hea­ven, there to consider Nature, and (joying for enjoying now not the un­certaine and enigmaticall, but the reall and cleere sight of this fabrick) compassionate such, as with a sterne philosophicall brow teach lyes be­leeved for truth even to this day. Here it is, that they contemplate the true Spheares, the certaine motions of the heaven (I would say of the earth too, if it were credible) the reasons of ebbing and flowing of the Sea, the perennity of fountaines, the generations of windes, with a num­ber of other things, whose reasons are thought to be knowne, but indeed are not: And such spirits, because they ever loved mankinde, enter into tearmes of naturall charity with them, not ceasing at all occasions to helpe them, either by freeing them from evills, (if it lye in their power) or at least in foretelling them of such ere they arrive; appearing in sundry shapes, and formes of Rainebowes, Sunnes, armed Squadrons, fiery Me­teors, and pleasant domesticall spirits inamoured of such as have a spirit in a degree like them. The second place is the extent of heaven, which is the superficies of the firmament: Thither come such, who not content to have with the speculators of nature knowne God for the first cause, be­leeve further his providence, and teach vertue and piety, which (for being a strong weapon of the spirit) defeates, puts to flight and slayes vices, which are the true monsters of the earth; and being made starres, sparkle outwardly the light of their creation, in signe of their divine internall love, water'd by the water of their regeneration. The Asterismes under the shapes of beasts and life-lesse things, are formed of Heroes made blessed [Page 223] for the vertues peculiar to such a living creature; as subtilty to serpents, active strength to Lions. The Beare represents a solitary life; the Eagle the elevation of the minde to God; the Triangle the ineffable mysterie; the Altar Religion, the Ballance Iustice; the Po the river of celestiall grace, and so forth the rest. True it is, that our having (in our time within the space of these two and thirty yeares) seene two spirits (the one in Cas­siopeia, the other in Sagittarius) taken away two yeares after their appea­ring, hath made us beleeve, that the divine providence hath beene pleased to shew us by their being exalted, that the starry Circle is not the supream place of blisse, but that there is yet a further passage to a third, which nei­ther eye can see, nor understanding conceive where the light is inacces­sible, and where every rash and over-curious eye is not onely weakened, but also blinded. Here abide such as issued out of naturall predicaments transcended nature, and by the contemplation of the divinity, become partakers of the glory which the Gods only enjoy, where among the eter­nall melodies of the super-celestiall Spheares, they (become worthily fellow-guests to the table of the Gods) are feasted with divine Nectar and Ambrosia. Here (Madame) in all fulnesse of blisse resides the Prince Co­rideo, whence hee conjures you, not to corrupt his joyes and glory with your heavinesse and lamentations, contenting your selfe, that hee being borne for heaven, remaine there, without wishing him, to your own griefe, a sojourne here contrary to his felicity. Her replies the good old man knew how to satisfie with reasons so lively, that as well the Queene as the King remain'd well satsfied therewithall.

Eromena mov'd to commiseration, and somewhat grieving thereat, be­sought her husband to be gone; whereupon kindly thanking the Priest, they return'd to imbarke themselves, so favoured with the windes, that in a few dayes they arrived at Siracusa; where they had scarce set foote a-ground, when they saw two Squires, who having suddenly slipt out their weapons, furiously endeavoured to speede each other: The Count of Bona knowing one of them for Carildo, stept in betweene them, and by him also known; Good my Lord (said Carildo) I beseech you hinder us not, for I must needs either slay this Traytor or dye: The other (who was Ol­miro) telling him in spitefull manner that he lyed in his throate, begg'd of the Count the very same favour; with telling him, that his enemy being the most infamous villaine of the earth, should not be taken out of his hands, for not freeing him from the punishment that hee deserved: But having the lye retorted him by the other, they being hindered from clo­sing with their swords, buckled together with their reviling tongues, ac­cusing each other with the selfe-same, or a very-like fault; which so puz­led the five in striving to finde out the truth (each of them shewing proba­ble apparances of reason of his side) as they saw no likely way of accor­ding them.

Meane while Almadero being got away from Corianna, was no sooner come to his house, than the repercussion of the Sunne on the weapon­blades gave him occasion to descry from above, the scuffling between these two at the next Port. Whereupon, thinking they were Gentlemen come of purpose to fight in that Iland, he bidding some of his servants to bring a horse after him, descended the downe-hill, ever almost running till hee [Page 224] came to the place where the affray was; where seeing the Knights that had parted them, he courteously saluting them, was againe in the same manner re-saluted by them, when Carildo said to Olmiro: God be praised that thy Master is now come to thee to participate of thy triumphs, since that by his owne testimony these Gentlemen may judge whether of us is the Traytor: Olmiro having seen Almadero before (though he had not in the wood well observed him) had now also taken him for Lucano, if his healthfull plight and habit had not assured him of the contrary. But Ca­rildo noting him yet more now than before, turning towards him, thus boldly bespake him.

And is it possible (my Lord Duke) that crosses and adversity (which in others quell rebelling humours, and refine their mindes, by bringing them to a better temper) should worke such a contrary effect in you, as you be­come strangely ungratefull doe not onely take pleasure at the death of your noble Lady and Princesse, but that to trample the more on her cala­mity, you (upon your reviving) must also come hither so contemptuously to wrong her without so much as once voutchsafing her the favour of comming to see how shee languisheth for death? Nor yet herewithall con­tent, but that you uphold or (for ought I know) command your servants to accuse me with those treacheries which are meerely yours and theirs in particular? Olmiro (who growne to be confused in minde at the appearing of this new Lucano, and who for knowing what plight he had left the true one in, tooke not this for him, could not for all that upon more serious surveying him choose but beleeve him to be the very same, notwithstan­ding that reason convinced his fancie) stood thereat so amazed, as he had not the power to utter a word. Almadero, on the other side, perceiving these new injuries to spring from the old equivocation of her whom hee before had met with Corianna, could not refraine from smiling thereat, and had made good sport of it too, but that hee duely considered the impor­tance of the case as it stood; whereupon he used this milde language.

Honest friend, if your adversary hath no greater cause to be offended with you, than you have to be angry with him for my sake; you will then (I am sure) be both soone wrought to an accord; for (I tell you) I am not that Duke you say I am; neither is hee here my servant, as you take him for. I never saw him (I protest) to my knowledge till now; nor is it long sithence I was taken for one Lucano whom I know not. What is he, I pray you? Is hee dead or alive? Here Carildo felt himselfe struck to the heart upon the conceiving of his mistake; whereupon hee crying him mercy, would needs runne to embrace Olmiro; who more enraged now than be­fore, thrust him off him, with threatning to be his death if hee but came neere him; doubting indeede of some new stratagem, for that hee could not beleeve that either Carildo tooke Almadero for Lucano, or that Alma­dero knew not Carildo, since he knew him for the very same that was in the wood with the Princesse of Feacia whom hee tooke for Corianna. But being entreated to bee either friends with him, or to tell them his reason why he would not be so; he answered, that a friend to him he would ne­ver be; and that to tell his reason openly, he neither could nor needed; since the other knew it but too well. Every of these replies were so many deaths to Carildo, there was never a word of them, that pierced not the [Page 225] very center of his heart. Beleeve mee Olmiro (said hee at length) thou wrong'st me to accuse me as thou doest; I have not (I vow to thee) offen­ded other than God, and that too by sinnes that concerne no other than my selfe; and since thou wilt not talke with mee in the presence of these noble Gentlemen, be but pleased (by their good permission) to retire a-part with me: For, I assure thee, that as I would have sworne that this no­ble Knight was Lucano, and on that mistake, without imagining that I lyed, would not have stucke to accuse him of treachery as well as thee; so like­wise shalt thou finde thy selfe every way deceived in me; wherein if thou finde me any way faulty, or short of my word, I now here deliver my selfe into thy hands to bee punished at thy pleasure. The Knights perswaded him to content himselfe with this his so reasonable proffer, and so left them alone. Whereupon Olmiro said to the other, Well now; how canst thou excuse thy selfe of having beene the instrument, that the Princesse is given for a prey (under what title I know not) to that Knight there, whom thou takest on thee to have mistaken for Lucano? whereas Lucano and o­thers besides my selfe have seene her with him in the wood. Carildo's heart so leap'd for joy, to heare Lucano was alive indeed, whereof hee was till then uncertaine in respect of his mistake, that Olmiro, who expected to see him amazed, marveiled at a contrary effect, when Carildo lifting up his eyes to heaven-wards, thus bespake him.

Alas Olmiro! how strangely and dangerously are we reciprocally mi­staken! 'tis but a litle while sithence this Knight came hither, as thou shalt shortly know; neither saw I him ever, till the day that I tooke him for Lucano; and yesterday in the wood, where he courted the Princesse of this Countrey, who (for resembling Corianna as you shall see) deceived you; and he againe (favouring very much Lucano) beguiled me, who be­leeved that, forgetting and slighting the Princesse, he had given himselfe over to this new love. Therefore (deere brothere mine) if the Duke lives in such torment, (as indeed he hath reason to doe) let us goe and free him of it, and that quickly too, sithence I have left also the Princesse in a case so desperate for the same mistake, as it is an even lay whether shee be by this time alive or no: Vp̄on this Olmiro beleeving now the case to stand as indeed it did, with lovingly embracing him, heartily cried him mercy: But because the then-dangerous state of the businesse required something else than words; they returning speedily to the Knights told them, they were now accorded, with beseeching them to dispence with the relation thereof till another time; not without yeelding them infinite thankes for the courteous office done them, but for which they had undoubtedly kild one another.

By this time Almadero had invited the Princes to come lodge with him; wherefore he answered them, that he would expect them at his house, out of the curiosity he had to know the end of that businesse, and more especi­ally to understand how hee was taken for another; wherein the Squires promised not to faile him, and with that (taking their leave) return'd to Lucano's lodging, where they held it best that Olmiro should first enter, so to take from him the occasion of venting his passion on Carildo: But scarce was he entred when (for missing to finde his Lord within) he came out a­gaine; upon this, enquiring of the man of the house for Erinnio, they were [Page 226] shewed him with heavy downe-cast lookes comming droopingly towards them. Being asked for the Duke, he (with a deepe sigh) answered, that hee was slipt away no man knew whither: But espying (with that) Carildo, he stoop'd downe for a stone; when Olmiro seizing on his hand, briefly re­accounted unto him how the case stood: Whereupon, after friendly em­bracing each other, they went so long enquiring after Lucano by counter-signes, that in the end they learnt he had taken the path of the wood, whi­therward they were then a-going. Carildo by the way relates unto the others the life led by Corianna, with the manner of their mistake; but now come to the wood they could not finde him out, although they with ex­quisite diligence sought for him all over: what way therefore to take they knew not, when Olmiro thus bespeakes the other two:

Here doe wee (being, as we are, all three together) but trifle out the time; it were therefore better, that thou Carildo went'st to the Princesse to comfort her; and (that done) to returne hither, or to our lodging, if thou hast but time; then one of us may keepe hereabouts to hinder the Duke to come to fight with the Knight, whilst the other goes to his lod­ging, lest he chance to come thither; and the first of us that happens to finde him, may impart him the good newes, and send word to his fellowes. But how shall I (said Erinnio) finde the way to the cave, in case it should behoove me to come thither? Mary very well, as I shall now direct thee, (replied Carildo:) For, ere we walke an hundred paces farther, I will put thee on a path that leades directly thither, and will withall give thee such counter-signes as thou canst not misse of it though thou would'st. But scarce were they gone fifty steps on their way, when they might heare a faint voyce, whose pittifull lamentations were often parenthesed with sighes and teares; whom, upon their passing further on, Carildo perceived to be the Dutchesse.

Corianna was parted from Almadero in a bodily state exceeding feeble (as I told you) having refused to accept his courteous proffer of causing her to be carried to the Barke, which (for keeping conceal'd the place of her abode) shee made him beleeve shee had waiting for her returne, but went not farre, ere her heart was so choaked with the extreame agony of her passionate griefe, that shee sunke breathlesse to the ground, a benumming cold that seized on her corps depriving it of all likelihood of her ever re­viving any more, and the soule-afflicted Dutchesse having experimented on her all the remedies that place could afford her, and seeing them all bootlesse, was now set a bemoaning her, and stood a crying over her with rending her cloathes and tearing her haire, when the three Squires arrived, who seeing a litle way off the Princesse in such a plight, were ready to drop downe for griefe.

On the other side, Lucano who remain'd in his lodging, accompanied with none save Erinnio, whom because hee knew not how to bee hand­somely ridde of, that so he might effect his intent, he bethought himselfe of sending him to learne out who that Knight might be, and accordingly straightly charged him not to returne without a distinct relation thereof. But no sooner was Frinnio gone, than that the Duke got him out of his bed, and then making the best shift he could to cloathe himselfe, hee tooke the way of the wood, with an intention to stay there, till such time as the [Page 227] Knight (his reputed rivall) came forth, that then he might slay him or dye. Laying then himselfe along under a tree that grew a-part, he might espy (a good way off) the three met together, who having sought him in vaine, went to observe the way that led to the cave; he marveiled to see them so loving together, whereat conceiving an unthought-of hope, hee followed them a-farre off, to see what they meant to doe; till seeing them make a stand, he likewise rested him behinde a tree, from whence he might heare the Dutchesse utter these despairing speeches.

And is it possible (Madame) that you will burthen poore innocent mee with those vengeances which you inflict on your as innocent self; (where­as they should bee inflicted on no other than injuring Fortune) wounding thereby my very soule for not reserving them for a time more desperate? Open (deere Madame) alas! open (I beseech you) those faire eyes of yours; oh let that gentle soule of yours respire in you; or if you have such power over the Heavens as to dye when you list, then befriend mee therewith too, by procuring that I may follow you; for, I trust I have de­served that favour at your hands; you know I associated you voluntarily in your sufferings and travels, therefore I hope you will not shake mee off from accompanying you in your sweet repose: Besides, sithence I forsooke all to serve you, it befits not a magnanimous & noble Princesse (as you are) to recompence me with this, to you, suddaine, to mee unexpected death, and so leave mee a miserable-exild-stranger, depriv'd of you even in that place, where among the torments of your inexplicable sufferings it was my hight of glory to be neere you, both to lament and participate of them. Thou Lucano, thou (woe is me) art he, who not content to have (while thou lived'st) robb'd her of her free-will, wilt yet (now that thou art dead) deprive her of her life too. But (sweete Madame) alas will you leave your sweete litle Prince Lucandro motherlesse, as well as fatherlesse? his quaint prettinesse and taking graces must then dye too, since that when you (both his mother and nurse) are once dead, there is none then to give him (poore infant) any more suck. The disconsolated Dutchesse stood so attent to her griefes, that the three were come at her ere shee saw them; so as the first motive that drew her eyes on them, were these words of Carildo: Why! what meane these strange alterations, Madame? am I come to bring you good newes, and pretend you to receive them with so dolorous a spectacle? my Lord Lucano lives, nobly-honest and loyall as ever, nay more! he is here too; and will then his (more than life beloved) Princesse dye because shee will not see him? At that word the Princesse opened her eyes, and faintly sighing peer'd Olmiro in the face; when hee prostrating himselfe on the ground thus bespake her.

Right excellent Princesse, if any tardance of mine bee the occasion of your Highnesse sufferings; I then pray Heavens that yours be my death: But know (my liege Lady) that more than is, could not possibly be done; I beseech you strive with your selfe to pluck up a good heart; for to your comfort know that the Duke my Lord is here, and by reason of a mistake lyes in as bad a plight for you, as you doe for him: Bee pleas'd then (I beseech you) to give us leave to carry you to the cave, that I may then af­ter hye me speedily to him to give him life, and bring him to you.

Whilst Lucano stood as a by-spectator of this part of a Tragecomedy, he [Page 228] might see displayed from out the wood another scene. The Princesse of Feacia (whom he before had taken for Corianna) not knowing that her Al­madero was otherwise busied, was met by him whom shee had espied from the hill top: And Polimero with his company seeing the three Squires comming out of the wood, went another way to finde them out: Whilst Lidomia being told by Almadero that he had strangers at home, goes her way. Lucano at first sight was almost deceived againe; nay he had que­stionlesse so beene, if the lamentation of the foure had not pointed him out the true Corianna: And now seeing those Knights goe that-a-way, he made a stand, though his heart drew him out of the ambush he lay in, as free by then from jealousie as more than ever sick of love and pitty. Cori­anna (now that shee was somewhat able) was about to speake in answer to Olmiro, when shee saw stand over her the five Knights, and a litle after Almadero; Lindadori forgetting her designe of passing for a man, sate close by her like a young Girle, conforting her with the prettiest words that could be: When Almadero (by this time come) greeted her with these speeches.

Madame, it hath pleased (you see) the Gods to chastize you for the disfavour you (to your owne prejudice) did me, in refusing to accept of a short repose in my poore house: I hope you will now oblige me with that favour, sithence these noble Gentlemen joyne with me to entreate you to suffer your selfe to be carried up, there to continue till such time as you have recovered strength enough to goe on your intended voyage: But shee, not being yet able to speake much, with a low voyce thanking him, told him, that those her three servants would carry her very well to her Barke; and with that, calling to her Olmiro, shee whispered him in the eare to goe for the Duke, and bring him presently to the cave. Lucano who standing aside observed all, seeing him part, and imagining that hee went for him, stept out to Olmiro, (a joyfull man to see him, whom he was alrea­dy bethinking with himselfe whither to goe to finde out) who now told him in two words all the businesse by him before hand sufficiently com­prehended: That done, Lucano suddenly breaking through the circle of Knights, prostrated himselfe before her, and then taking her by the hand and bathing it with his teares, he affectionately kissed it: Shee presently knew him, and at the very sight of him instantly recovered her full strength, her soule then returning to its proper mansion, and her spirits executing their severall offices. Clasping then her armes about his neck, forgetting the nice decorum of her sex, and the (at other times blush-pro­curing) presence of so many Knights, shee (parenthesing her words with greedy kisses) thus bespake him.

And what God restores you to me now, my sweete Lucano? what spite­full death (alas!) tooke you from me, deerest life of my soule? Dye I, or live I now, I shall live or dye contented for seeing you alive, and too withall not anothers but mine. But tell me (I beseech you) are you indeed Lucano, or the sweete spirit that was in him? No, no! you are my true loyall Lucano. Spirits (I see) are not dissolv'd by the blowes of Fortune. This your languishing palenesse is a marke infallible of your love, and a most glorious trophey of mine: But (my deere soule) you are in some sort recompenced for it, since your tombe hath not any either more worthy [Page 229] Epitaph, nor your Hearse any Elegy that expresse your disasters more lively than doth this face of mine, whereon (so you but cast your eye) you may there reade in sad characters the deposition of my affection. To this Lu­cano after he had first (as a preludium to his speech) vented a few profound sighes thus answered.

The life (Madame) that at this present I receive, is the hight of so great a glory, that the death and now past calamities that I suffered, come ex­ceedingly short of meriting it: Happy therefore were I, if for better ex­pressing my loyaltie and to doe you further service, I might often reiterate the sufferings of my disasters. For, though that your favour to me-wards ever the same doth ever warrant my content from becomming subject to alteration; neverthelesse Fortune's so various accidents make me (now that I have prov'd and felt them adverse) relish better my happinesse than before, when I knew nothing of its spitefull effects. Onely I affectionate­ly begge of you, to adde this one favour more to the summe of my obli­gations, (which is) that you will presently cheere up your spirits, and live; otherwise I protest unto you, that I may well resolve to dye my selfe, but not to endure to see you leade me the way to either death or griefe: which said, he embracing her affectionately, nourished by the assistance of their close-joyned lips, her weakely-panting with his fresh-vigorous spirits; and then (shee having first bestowed such time as was necessary for recovering her intercepted breath) bethought of getting her selfe up, and to be gone to her retiring-place, her cave: For furthering of which her desire, the Dutchesse, to strengthen her fainting spirits, presented her with a morsell of restorative conserve, which shee had brought with her purposely to re­vive her, but could not perswade her to take of it before, because of her then resolution to starve her selfe, or otherwise set a finall period to her dayes. Now also afterwards shee was by importunity wonne to taste of a litle conforting wine, which together with other dainties Almadero cau­sed to be brought downe for her, and now presented her withall, not with­out letting her know how sorry hee was, that her diffidence extended so farre as to Cavaliers, who were obliged to serve her.

Eromena lighting now on an occasion conforming with a determination of hers, concluded on by her husband and the Count of Bona of taking her along with them, thus greetes her: Madame, I know you by your high birth, noble spirit, and disasters, ere e're I had the honour to be acquain­ted with your person; and now that I have the happinesse to know you that occular way too, I thanke the Heavens for favouring me so much as to finde you out in such a time or plight as I may any way steede you. And to the end you may be excuselesse, for not commanding me, I am Eromena—. More she would have said, but that name scarce exprest, bred such joy in Corianna, that she interrupted her with saying; And how happy a day is this for me (Madame) wherein Fortune hath beene so liberall as to restore me my Lucano, that so both he and I might personally tender our service to you, whom we so much honour and desire to serve? But Eromena obser­ving her speake with a great deale of paines, made her this sudden reply; Sweete Madame, let us (I pray you) lay aside all complements, and thinke of some meanes of conveying you hence, to take some conforting-cor­diall-simples, for I conceive you have need of them: Besides, you may [Page 230] honour me by voutchsafing to be acquainted with Polimero my Lord, and Lindadori my daughter, who are also come here to serve you together with these two Knights, the one of them which is this (shewing her the Count of Bona) having chanced to espie you out before, hathconducted us hither expressely to bring you along with us to Sardinia, where we shall with your greater advantage treate of your reconcilements. And then, af­ter complementall courtesies replied on all sides Almadero would by all meanes have Corianna carried up, which favour shee accepted not of, but in excuse thereof said:

Courteous Sir, I may not accept of your much-obliging proffer, not be­cause I dislike of it, but for that I cannot conforme the necessity of my oc­casions to the desire I have to obey you; in explanation whereof I must tell you, that I am (though I presume you hitherto know not as much) your neere neighbour, and have at home a young sucking babe that ex­pects me; and therefore I shall make bold to begge of you one undenia­ble request (which is) that you would bee courteously pleased to leave to my Lucano and me with our company the use of my cave; whereunto (see­ing her resolution so fixt) they all assented; so as shee was seated and car­ried thitherward in a chaire accompanied (though against her will) with all of them; who when they came to see that subterranean habitation (though adorn'd with royall furniture) they could not refraine from weep­ing: But more than all the rest Lucano, though he afterwards passed from a sea of teares to an Ocean of joy upon sight of the babe, whom Lindadori would needs feede, whilst Eromena (having first excluded all the men­kinde) helped Corianna to bed; and then soone after re-admitting them, shee with some soveraigne restoratives by then prepared her by the noble mayden, both conforted and restored her enfeebled forces.

Full fifteene dayes entertayned they themselves all of them in Ericusa: For the Prince of Feacia being informed of their qualities, went in person to conduct and lodge them in a delicious house of his pleasingly-scituated on the sea side, where upon Corianna's recovering her former beauties, they were observed, although in apparance the same with Lidomia, to bee animated (though) with different spirits; onely so farre alike, as tooke a­way all marveile of their being taken the one for the other. Lucano rather was a greater subject of amazement, since betweene him and Almadero could not be discerned any sensible difference of favour or making, other than in certaine gestures, and those too rather habituall than naturall.

Many complementall ceremonies passed betweene Eromena and Cori­anna, touching their going together, till at length upon the later her accep­ting of the invitation the old Prince furnished them with a Galley:

Leaving then Almadero protested-unto of a perpetuall a­mity, they fetching about Sicily, prosperously arrived in SARDINIA.