The first part of Parismus, the renovvmed Prince of Bohemia His most famous, delectable, and pleasant historie. Containing his noble battails fought against the Persians. His loue to Laurana, the Kings daughter of Thessalie: and of his strange aduentures in the desolate iland.

CHAP. XII.

How Donisius discouered himselfe to the Queene, and of the ioy was made in the City: how Parismus determining to see Laurana in his palmers disguise, lighted vpon a pret∣tie aduenture, at the first dangerous, but in the ende pleasant: and what battels hee afterwards fought with the Persians.

DIonisius very earely the next day after the battell fought against the Persians, came marching with his troupes (of whom ve∣ry few were missing, towards the Citie, from whence hee found the Persians re∣moued further by halfe a mile: for they ha∣uing viewed their forces, found them so much weakened, by the last daies infinite slaughter, that they thought themselues scarce able to resist an other assault, and therefore began to intrench themselues: by which meanes those of the Thessalian party had free accesse to the City, and by the appointment of Dionisius, al the souldiers were conueied into the same, euery band lodged seuerally by themselues, al things being ordered for a sudden assault (if need should require.) The Bohemian king requested the king of Hungaria, and Prince of Sparta, to go with him to the palace, to visit the Quéene, amongst whom was Dionisius, not

yet knowne to any but the Bohemian King, they marched in •…•…heir armour with Drummes and Trumpets. The Quéene •…•…auing knowledge of their comming, came to meete them in mourning attire, and with her Laurana, and the Thessalian Ladies, the faire young Queene of Hungaria, and the Ladie Isabella, (who had all this while remained with Oliuia,) and all the Thessalian Lords, shewing by their outward habite, their inward sorrow, for want of him that was amongst them: by this time they were met, and most kindly saluted each other the Quéene giuing them most harty thankes for their friend∣ship, and they protesting neuer to forsake her in time of neede. Oliuia maruelled who that might be that concealed himselfe, which both Laurana and all the rest diligently marked, and be∣ing drawne by that meanes into heauy cogitation of her lost Lord, she vttered these speeches: Most worthy King of Bohe∣mia, I am sorry that the King of Thessalie is wanting, to giue honour to your simple encertainement, whose absence is most greeuous vnto vs, being our onely defence & comfort, by which meanes wee cannot giue you such a ioyfull welcome, as wee should, if our Sun were not darkned, but are compelled by our plaints, to make you pertakers of our woe: as also the death of that noble Prince your valiant sonne, (being vnfortunately acted in our Court,) hath so ouerwhelmed vs with care, that you cannot expect ought from vs but sighs and mourning, that all the entertainement we can giue, is to bid you welcome to a feast of sorrow: wherwith she and the vertuous Laurana, shew∣ing a countenance full of milde pittie, stood wéeping & lamen∣ting, that all the whole company were gréeued to sée their sor∣row, which strooke such a déepe impression of pitty into Dioni∣sius heart, that with the teares standing in his eies, he vnbra∣ced his helmet, and comming suddainly to Oliuia, said. Deare Queene, behold one salue to cure your sorrow: the Quéen and Laurana were so amazed, that they could not tell whether they might giue credit to their eies or no, but at last with such vn∣speakable ioy, Oliuia imbraced him, that it delighted all to be∣hold

their kind reioycings.

Laurana knéeling downe did her humble dutie, and Dioni∣sius séeing her kneeling, & with blubbred chéeks as he thought bewailing his absence, most willingly tooke her vp and kissed her, which hee had neuer before done, since shee was a childe: which so rauished Lauranaes passionate heart, that her ioy for hie returne, and griefe for Parismus want, might be compared to two mighty forces striuing to ouer master each other. The Lords of Thessaly, were so renewed with the presence of their king, that twenty thousand hosts of Persians could not daunt their vndaunted hearts, such mirth & reioycing was through∣out the whole Citie, that for euer after they continually kept that as a holy and festiuall day: so excéeding was the Citizens ioy, that the belles rung, the Drumes and Trumpets soun∣ded, and they made bone•…•…res and tryumphes throughout the whole Citie: the noise whereof made the Persians wonder, and astonished, to see them in such mirth, & so little to regard their forces, which doubts were soone ended by the newes of Dionisius reurne, whom we leaue now in his owne Court in great ioy, welcomming the strangers, and himselfe welco∣med by his subiects.

Parismus the same day was come out of his Caue in Pal∣mers wéedes, because he knew he should not haue occasion to vse his Armes, and comming to the City, he found the Persi∣ans di•…•…odged, and all the rest within the walles, and hearing the ioy that was made, he maruelled what should be the cause, and easily got into the City, (because vnder that habite he was not mistrusted,) and soone had knowledge of Dionisius his re∣turne, which he had heard of before. He began then to thinke with himselfe in this sort, how vnkind am I, that will not ma∣nifest my selfe vnto my deare and Uertuous Laurana, whom I know endureth much sorrow for my sake, shee will keepe mee being aliue, secret from men, and why then may I not com∣fort her and my selfe, by hauing some priuate conference with her? And with this resolution, he went vnto the Pallace, and

there walked vp and downe, not hauing a sight of Laurana, nor Leda her maide all the day, nor possibly knowing how to come to giue her knowledge of his being there without suspi∣tion. Thus he stayed vntill it began to be darke, and hauing no other meanes, he lept ouer a mighty high stone wall into the Garden, wher•…•… diuers times hee had enioyed the sweet pre∣sence of his beloued: and there hid himselfe in a little groue that was by Art made for pleasure, whereunto seld•…•…me any came, in which groue he was constrained to stay most part of the night, by reason that the King of Bohemia, and the rest, lodged in the Pallace, it was very late before all were at rest. Yet neuerthelesse when there was none to hinder him, he was without any hope to see his Mistresse, and all things being si∣lent, he spied a light burning in her window, vnder which hee got himselfe so neere as hee could, and to his comfort heard Laurana sing this song to her Lu•…•…e.

Lauranaes Song,

What carefull breast ere bid such bitter throbbes, As vexe my minde with sorrowes pinching smart: Which waste my life with watrie eye-swolne sobbes, And breed sadde cares that sticke full neere my heart.

Sorrow's my food, and griefe my whole delight, Care fils my heart, sad thoughts possesse my minde: Each obiect sweet that counterviewes my sight, Soone turnes to sower, all pleasure prooues vnkinde.

The cheerfull day renewes my endlesse cries, And Phoebus beames are shadowed with my teares: The silent night that lendeth rest to eyes, Yeeldes me no ease, but hearts consuming care.

Thus am I rackt, no rest to smart can finde, The smallest time, to paine yeelds no relife: No fortune sweet, will my ill rate vnbinde, But worse to worse, and care I adde to griefe.

My loue is lost, by dismall lucklesse fate, My chiefest ioy hath felt the sting of death: The bad suruiue, to worke me more debate, And vertue sweet can draw no longer breath.

Fraude conquereth Fame, and vertu's thrall to vice, Faith stands exilde, and reason rules in place: The good prooues bad, and trust as brittle y•…•…e, In constant deedes, doe constant loue deface.

My Sunne shines dim, and darkened be despite, Spite suckes my blood, yet sueth for my loue: Valour lies thrall, dispoiled of his might, Vaine flattery doth constancy remoue.

Base minded Lust hath Loialty betraide, False Trecherie doth sue and seeke for grace: Fraude by his force hath honesty dismaid, And forced wrong, doth right with might displace.

All this and more, by proofe I finde to true, By hard mischance and absence of my Knight: Whose luckelesse death, my sorrowing sobs renue, Whose presence pure, did breed my sweet delight.

He valour was, whom fraude hath brought to death, He honour was, where vertue shin'd most cleare: In his kind brest, true loialty drew breath, Fame in his lookes, and glory did appeare.

Hope speakes me faire, and telles me Fame doth liue, Which addes more doubts vnto my troubled head: The Iewell sweete the Palmer did mee giue, Breeds firme beliefe that valour is not dead.

My friendly foe, that sueth for my grace, Hath hem'd mee in, with strickt besiege of warre: And seekes by force my vertue to deface, And from my soule all comfort doth debarre.

Had I my Loue here folded in mine armes, Or might I once enioye his pleasing •…•…ight: I would him guard from force of Persian harmes, And loue should quell fraile fortunes canckred spight.

But dismall woes expell such blisfull ioyes, My lucklesse Starres such pleasure doth detaine Carking distresse and sorrowes mee annoyes, No ease to care, nor end I finde in paine.

Thus am I •…•…ost with endle•…•…e miserie, Care is my bed, exceeding paine my rest: Sorrow's my sleepe, my ease aduersitie, And thousand griefes, still tumble in my head.

Affliction giues me foode, dispaire reliefe, Danger hems me in, Death standeth still in •…•…ight: Each Day and Night, each thing renues my griefe, And grisly Warre, my senses doth affright.

What resteth then for me to put in vre, But welcome Cares, in absence of my friende: Who for my sake such torments doth end•…•…re, As hath, or will, soone bring his life to 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Parismus hearing the contents of this heauenly Harmony, and knowing the voice to be the vertuous Laueranes, was so contentedly pleased with the same, that his spirits were drawn into a diuine contemplation of her perfections, wherein hee continued a great space, at length, when hee heard that swéet delighting Harmony to cease, he cast vp his eye to the win∣dowe, to see if hee could haue a sight of his beloued through the Glasse, weereof he was disappointed, by reason the candle was suddainly extinct, which draue him into sundry cogitations how hee might giue any instance vnto her of his being there, but sawe no possible meanes, being a thousand times in minde to knocke at the staires doore that came into that garden, from which hee was discouraged by as many contrary doubtes, least hee should putte herin some suddaine feare, by such vn∣woonted noyce: Againe, hee knewe not who might bee in her companie, which might be a meanes to bring her name in question, if hee should be seene there. Whilest hee continued in these doubtfull thoughts, the night was farre spent, & the cleere day beganne to appeare, which draue him into another studie which way to get out of that place again, for he was loth to lin∣ger there all the next day, and so by misfortune be discouered.

At last being driuen to take any shifte for currant, he got to the top of the backe wall, which incompassed the Pallace, and thought that was the best way to escape without suspition, for if hée hadde attempted to haue gone backe by the same way hée came in, hée could by no meanes haue escaped vnespyed, so ad∣uenturously leaping from the hight of the wall, by great mis∣fortune (the same being farr heigher then he thought,) he had a most grieuous fall, and by the noice thereof awaked two migh∣tie fierce Mastyffes, which were vsually kept for to defend that place, wherein a Rich Cittizen continually layed great store of Warre and March•…•…dize, which no sooner espyed him fallen downe, but they ran vpon him with open mouth, (the Dogges in Thessalie being so strong and fierce by Nature, that they feare not to encounter with the mightiest Lyons,) which draue

Parismus to his vttermost shifts, hauing no weapon to defend himselfe withall, but a little pocket dagger, drewe backe vnto the corner of the wall, by which meanes the Dogge could not come behinde him, that with ease hée slewe them both, and hauing espied this daunger, being bitten in diuers places be∣fore he could kill them, he knocked at the marchants doore, thin∣king to make some excuse to passe by that way, through which hée must néedes goe, for there was no other way for him to get out: the Marchants Daughter hearing one knocke, looked out at the windowe, and taking Parismus for another, came run∣ning downe to the doore, and kindely taking him in, locked the doore againe, and being in the darke entrie, clasping her ten∣der armes about his necke: Swéete Friende (quoth shée) how could you escape the danger of the Dogges, that you aduentu∣red to come in on this side of the House? but as I wonder, so I am gladde you haue escaped them, and most louingly kissed him an hundreth times.

Parismus maruelled much at this great kindenesse, and willingly dissembled, as if hée had bene the man shee tooke him to be: for her tender and kinde empracings were sufficient en∣ticements to procure his consent. That night shée had appoin∣ted a young Gentleman (vnto whome she bore affection, with∣out the consent of her Parents) to come vnto her, and with the ioy of his comming, she made no doubt how hee could come in on that side, which caused him to vse the like kinde Salutation to her, reioycing in his minde, to sée how suddainely hee was fallen into such a sweete labyrinth of Loue, hauing so lately escaped a mischiefe.

The Marchaunts Daughter thinking verilie it had bene her accustomed Louing Friende, vsed all courteous and most kinde welcomes that might be, with wonderfull protestations other Loue, being such indeed, as proceeded from deepe groun∣ded affection, which made Parismus vse the like courteous im∣bracings, and thankfull gratulations, finding by her speeches, and by many other likelyhoods, that shee was none of the •…•…sest,

but might be of better parentage then, he tooke her to be, which somewhat inticed his minde to a wandring delight in her kind∣nesse, that he determined with her to taste what loue was. By that time they had continued their kindnesse a good space, shée desired him to come vp into her Chamber, whether shée ledde him in the darke, the poore soule hauing no other intent but chast and vertuous, and nothing suspecting him to be a stran∣ger, which Parismus well perceiued by her behauiour. Assoone as they were come thither, shée kindely desired him to sit down on the beddes side, whilest shée went to light a candle, as well to be delighted with beholding his person, as otherwise. Shée was no sooner gone, but Parismus secretly stepped to the doore, with purpuse to behold if her beautie and person were agrée∣able to her other conditions, and sawe her to be a most gallant and beautifull Damosell, which sight so inticed his mind, that assoone as shée was comming to him with the candle, hée blewe the same out, and tolde her that a light fitted not at that time, for it might be a meanes to bewray their secret méeting, which shee allowed for a sufficient excuse: wherewith Parismus bée∣ganne to entertaine her, with such kinde dalliance as earst hée neuer tasted, she kindly reprouing his behauiour, yet had no po∣wer to resist: at which time (to both their delights) he depriued her of the Iewell she was vnwilling to losse, but with his pithy perswasions yeelded vnto: he vsing such a sweete attractiue ver∣tue, as was able to conquere the chastest. Parismus reaped such sweete content from this Uirgins pure delightfull bodie, that he was altogether vnwilling to leaue her pleasant imbracings, but at last remembring his estate, told her that he would work such meanes for sauegard of her honour, as she should wel like of: she poore soule with weeping eyes and heartie sighes, badde him adiue. Kindly kissing at the parting, he gaue her a rich Ie∣well, which he desired her to were for his sake, and tooke from her finger a King, which he promised he would euerlastingly weare as her fauour. Assoone as he was forth of doores, comes the appointed louer, who hauing staied somewhat long, feared

some displeasure, but yet knockt, which made Violetta (for so was she called) open the doore againe, maruelling that he should be so soone returned: but hee at his comming saluted her with a fresh salutation, and kissed her, excusing himselfe for his long tariance, which draue her into such a perplexitie, that shee could not tel what to say, nor what to think: at last she said, what need you vse such excuses, when you were so lately with me? Deare Loue (quoth he,) account you it so lately, when (I protest) I thought these thrée dayes sithence I saw you, to be longer then thrée yeares: by which spéeches she perceiued that another had ouerheard their appointment, and by that meanes deceiued her, which made her growe so much in loathing of her present suter, that euer after shee shunned his companie, and •…•…ent her mind wholly to meditate how to knowe him that had trapt her loue, vowing neuer to loue any but him, and resoluing ne∣uer to enioy any quiet, vntill she had knowledge what hee was. Parismus was no sooner come forth of the Marchants doores, reioycing at his last pleasant banquet, but presently hee hasted to his Caue, where he found the Out-lawes, sadly respecting his returne, of whom being kindly welcomed, he betooke himselfe to his rest, and the contented meditations of the Marchants daughter, had not y^e remembrance of Lauranas Uertues, some∣what restrained his affection, hée had fallen to a loose and disso∣lute conceit. But calling to minde her perfections, and his vn∣constant Acte, he tormented himselfe with griefe, that hee had doone her that wrong: but yet it troubled his minde the lesse, because hee knewe it was not reuealed to any but to himselfe onely, and likewise somewhat it vrged his minde of ingrati∣tude, if he should altogether forsake Violetta, frō whom he had taken the best Iewell she had: in which diuersitie of thoughts he spent that mornings repose. The king of Persia, calling his contributaries altogether, by the aduise of all, concluded to send into Persia for more Forces, as also to request diuers of his alli∣ance to aide him, in reuenge of such iniurious wrongs, as he al∣ledged he & his sonne Sicanus had sustained at Adonius hands.

This message being so secetly dispatches, that the The ssali∣ans had no knowledge thereof, by which meanes they cōtinued in great security and ioy for the great victorie, they with the aide of the blacke knight had made against the Persians: yea so secure would they haue beene (had not the remembrance of Parismus death somewhat calmed their exceeding ioy) that the Persians might many times haue surprised them, but the blacke Knight was still such a lette vnto them, that their ene∣mies could attempt nothing but he would discouer it, by which meanes, the Thessalians had knowledge thereof. Many daies continued the Persians before the walles of Thebes, neuer giuing any assault, nor once comming foorth of their Trenches, which caused the Thessalians to count them halfe vanquished. During which time, Parismus (knowne by the name of the blacke knight) did fight many braue combats with the Persians, by which meanes the Court of Dionisius was filled with the resounding ecchoes of excéeding praises made in commendation of his prowes and vnconquered chiualry, but most of all they wondred at his strangenesse to bee knowne, and the rather, for that none could learne where hee made his abode, knowing that it could not bee farre from the Citie. The Persian messenger made such expedition in performing his message, that in short space there were gathered together of sundrie nations, another mighty Army: first came the king of Natolia, being nearely allied to the Persian, with a great army of Natolians, the King of Libia, with thirty thousand Libians, and the King of Licia, with forty thousand men at armes, and of Phrigia twenty thousand: and to repaire the decayed campe of the King of Persia, came fifty thousand. This last Armie soone landed in Thessaly, and pitched their Tents on the plaine of Pharsalia, of whose approach both the Persians and Thessalians had knowledge, to the com∣fort of the one, and to the discomfort and terror of the other: by meanes whereof the Thessalians being before in mirth, beganne to waxe carefull of their estate: and therefore sent

twenty thousand horsemen well armed out of the Citie, to this ende, that at al times they might succour them with a fresh sup∣plie, for that they knewe they should néede all the helpe they could possible make: who béeing abroade, soone tooke order, that the Persians in their Roades could scarcely finde any cat∣tell or other vi•…•…tualls.

These newe Forces béeing all ioyned together with the Persians, besette the Citie anewe with double Trenches and Fortifications round about, so that there could none passe in or out, which caused Dionisius and the Bohemian King (hauing made suruey of their store) to consider that there was not pro∣uision enough within the Citie for such a number of Souldiers for one moneth, making account that it was the onely course, either vallantly to driue backe the enemie, or ignominiously to abide their mercy, and therfore determined the next day to issue out vppon them, which they in pollicie did, not with hope to vanquish such an Armie, but to lette the Persians knowe, that they were not discouraged with their huge multitudes: which purpose of theyrs was thus furthered by the blacke Knight, who early on the next morning hadde buckled on his Armour, and was come before the Tentes of the Persians, and espying such a huge and mightie multitude of newe come Souldiours, that alreadie hadde vnited their Forces with the Persians, and by enquyrie, hée soone learned who they were, and therefore re∣solued to vse his woonted manner of challenge: which when the Persian King beheld, hée made relation thereof vnto the King of Natolia, and also what valiant actes the Blacke knight had doone, entering so farre in commendation of him, that the King of Lycia standing by, being of a haughtie and proude disposi∣tion, beganne to disdaine to heare him so highly commended, thinking himselfe able to conquere and ouercome any, for hée was estéemed to be one of the be•…•… Knightes in the Worlde: which made him replie vnto y^e king of Persia in this sort, that hée would soone prooue that there was no Knight in Thessaly able to combatte the King of Licia: therefore a•…•…ming himselfe,

hée went forth to meete the blacke knight, who no sooner 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him, but hee set spurres to his horse, and ran at him with such force, that he ouerthrew both horse, and man to the ground: the King of Licia séeing himselfe thus foyled, soone got vp and drewe his sworde, but the blacke knight disdaining to cope a∣ny further with him, whom hee had already conquered, turned his horse, and rode from him, which so vexed the King of Licia, being enraged to see his owne shame, and with anguish of the bruis•…•… hee receiued in the fall, that he would haue murthered himselfe, but that his knights hindered him.